Chapter 59: Holy Blood (13)

“Is that your concept? That’s totally hip…!”

Rico’s eyes sparkled, and she was just about to launch into another whirlwind of chatter.

Suddenly, the waiting room door opened.

When the staff member who had guided us here reappeared, everyone’s attention turned to him, and thanks to that, her budding conversation was naturally cut short.

“Phew….”

While I secretly let out a sigh of relief.

The staff member announced to everyone in a businesslike voice.

“Thank you for waiting. From now on, those present will meet with the Chairman one by one in order. Please prepare yourselves.”

At those words, the atmosphere instantly grew heavy.

In the silence, where tension naturally settled, the staff member announced again with an emotionless face.

“The first in line is Professor Avery. Please follow me.”

At his words, someone slowly rose.

It was an old man who had been sitting in a corner of the waiting room.

He meticulously adjusted his suit and, with a grim expression, followed the staff member out.

Even after the two of them disappeared, silence still lingered in the waiting room.

The air was thick with the realization of what truly awaited them.

Even Rico was subdued enough by this atmosphere to glance around and refrain from chattering carelessly.

In the quieted space, I thought for a moment.

‘If he’s meeting this many people one by one, will I have to wait here for quite a long time?’

However, contrary to my expectations, the staff member returned less than three minutes after the old man had been called.

The staff member immediately called the next person.

“Ms. Olivia.”

A middle-aged woman with sharp features and rimless glasses left the waiting room, her heels clicking.

And a short while later, the staff member called for someone else.

“Director Max.”

Then the next person.

“Mr. Beneden.”

The turns were coming around much faster than expected.

I wondered what was going on, perhaps he was meeting several people at once.

However, among those who had been called out, some occasionally returned to the waiting room.

And each one, with a hardened expression, would collect their belongings and leave without a word.

As the number of waiting people dwindled, the tension among those remaining grew even thicker.

And finally, it was her turn.

“Ms. Rico.”

“Yes!”

Rising from her seat with a thoroughly tensed face, she hastily followed the staff member.

As I watched her boisterous figure depart, I found a small note had somehow been pressed into my hand.

It contained her contact information along with an effusive message like, ‘I think we really click, so be sure to contact me outside!’

I roughly crumpled it into my pocket and let out a soft sigh.

She wasn’t a bad person by nature, but honestly, she was too overwhelming for me.

Just a few minutes of conversation had been enough to completely drain me.

Still, thanks to her whirlwind chatter, it was true that I had been able to let go of my tension, at least for a little while.

‘Well, it was helpful in a way. Should I be thankful for this….’

However, now that even that commotion had disappeared, anxiety began to creep in again.

In the indefinite wait, the stress was starting to make my stomach ache a little.

‘It would have been better if I were first in line.’

If so, regardless of the outcome, I could have finished and left by now.

I sighed inwardly and tried hard to clear my mind.

Even so, the people in the waiting room dwindled one by one.

Soon, the space became so quiet it felt dead.

It turned out I was the last one.

In the vast space where only I remained, my name was finally called.

“Ms. Evinia.”

==========

The man asked someone again today.

“What do you live for?”

This time, the interviewee was an elite trader who had recently built a reputation at a securities firm for his sharp investment acumen.

A man who was the epitome of success as defined by this city.

He answered without a hint of hesitation, his voice full of confidence.

“My purpose in life is clear, Chairman. It is to read the flow of the world, take risks, and preempt value faster than anyone else. To generate greater profits and accumulate wealth through that, that is the sole driving force that makes me strive.”

Rian nodded faintly.

“Excellent.”

His voice was flat, but his empty eyes showed no emotion whatsoever.

He merely stared at the other person with eyes as deep and vacant as the abyss and asked softly in return.

“Then, in your eyes, I must seem happy.”

The young elite was momentarily speechless.

The man before him, Rian Lumen, was the very pinnacle of the goal he himself was dedicating his entire life to achieve.

Yet, on the face of this man who possessed immense wealth and power, not a shadow of happiness could be found.

“…..”

The exchange with the flustered man soon ended.

The next person to arrive was an elderly professor.

“Chairman.”

The professor began to speak in a quiet voice.

“Philosophy often begins in the face of the greatest void. When everything in life feels meaningless, it is precisely then that humans begin to ask about ‘meaning’.”

The old man paused for a moment to catch his breath, then continued.

“Chairman, when a great sculptor passes away, does the masterpiece he left behind also disappear?”

“……..”

“Your wife devoted her entire life’s love to create the masterpiece that is you. Her love, wisdom, and warmth are already deeply engraved in every part of your life. So please, do not seek reasons to live from the outside. Your remaining life is to be lived as the sole masterpiece left by the great artist who was your wife. Prove with your life how dazzling her love was. Your story together has not ended with this. A journey of being together in a new way has begun.”

He could understand what the man was saying, intellectually.

But… Rian’s heart remained utterly unmoved.

Any philosophy or ideology now just felt like wordplay.

After him, the writers he had invited advised him to sublimate his pessimistic emotions into creation.

A psychological counselor advised him to take sufficient time for mourning and respect his own emotions.

A famous painter told him to try to experience the joy of finding a new muse again.

But it was all useless.

Eating delicacies felt like chewing dry sand, and whoever he met, their face seemed like a blurry shadow.

No matter what breathtaking scenery of the world he took in, every landscape was a faded gray.

New businesses, new loves, new goals… all felt utterly meaningless.

Yet, even at this very moment, he was calling in various people and engaging in conversations.

There was only one reason.

To keep the last promise he had made to his wife.

[“Even if I die…. please, you must continue to live….”]

The man, facing a predetermined farewell, was trying to find a new purpose in life, one he was about to lose.

Hoping to glean even a clue from the lives of others, he had met with countless people from all walks of society.

However, as these meetings repeated, he only felt it more keenly.

His only wish was to see his wife’s healthy, smiling face again.

And the more he sank into this skepticism, the more distant the way to keep his promise to her seemed.

“…..”

He looked at his reflection in the glass window again.

A dark, gloomy shadow lay heavy on the haggard man’s face.

The chairman of a large corporation, revered by others, was not there.

He once believed he could achieve anything with money and power, but now he only saw a failure who couldn’t even save his beloved wife.

If he could sell his soul to a demon to make his wish come true, he would gladly accept it right now.

But in this era, built on the pinnacle of reason, even such fantastical temptations did not come.

In this age where the authority of existing matter transcended all else.

When faced with an impossibility that capital could not solve, what on earth should a human rely on now?

He was lost in such thoughts.

“Chairman, this is today’s last guest.”

A low voice came from outside.

A moment later, the door opened quietly, and someone cautiously stepped inside.

“…….”

The one who entered the reception room was a girl with a somewhat mystical aura, a little different from those he had met so far.

Even her attire was of a style he had never seen before, yet it exuded a certain reverent grace.

Looking at her, he recalled the contents of the documents he had briefly skimmed earlier.

Was she invited from some religious group in the suburbs?

There seemed to be some other information written, but he didn’t bother to pay attention.

‘A saintess of a church….’

She was a girl beautiful enough that the title didn’t feel out of place.

Uncommon beauty, uncommon background.

But it didn’t stir any further emotion in him.

He had already met all sorts of oddballs in the city by now.

The man, utterly exhausted, now mechanically, without any expectation, asked the question he had repeated dozens of times that day.

“Alright, let me ask you one thing. What do you live for?”

============

The chairman of the major corporation I faced for the first time, Rian Lumen, was a man with a rather gloomy impression.

His shadowed eyes, gaunt face, and even the pale complexion born from indelible fatigue.

A man with such a face asked me, who had just stepped into the reception room.

“What do you live for?”

I was momentarily flustered by the sudden question.

Honestly, I had been worrying about something else entirely up until then.

That this invitation might be a trap to uncover the secret of the ‘miracle’ and lure me in.

Throughout my journey here, I hadn’t been able to shake off that anxiety.

However, the moment I met his empty eyes looking at me, I realized.

He looked like a person who had no room to think about anything other than his own affairs.

Therefore, this meeting was not an interrogation, but simply a meeting for questions.

In the process of meeting people from various fields, I, as the head of a virtually unique religious organization, had also been invited.

After guessing the situation, I inwardly let out a soft sigh of relief.

Once my mind was at ease, I could finally think about the essence of the question I had just been asked.

‘What am I living for?’

Honestly… I’ve never really pondered such a thing.

Even in my original world, I used to set aside all my life’s worries and anxieties for a single piece of delicious chicken.

I wasn’t very accustomed to such profound introspection.

And I intuited that even an answer I came up with after much deliberation would likely not be the correct one.

Because the many intellectuals who had faced the chairman before me probably hadn’t given him the answer he was looking for.

That’s why they would have been dismissed so quickly.

‘Then how should I answer?’

After a moment’s thought, I made a decision.

If whatever I said was likely to be wrong anyway, there was no need to rack my brains over it.

I was invited here as the ‘Saintess of the Church,’ so I just needed to give an answer appropriate for that role.

Therefore, feigning a calm and reverent demeanor, I said.

“My goal is to lead the church according to God’s will and spread the faith.”

The man was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Faith, you say. Good.”

Then, with empty eyes that seemed to pierce right through me, he asked.

“Then, what would you do if you lost all that faith?”

This unexpected counter-question made me pause and think again.

To be honest, since I didn’t truly believe in a being called God yet, the disappearance of faith itself wasn’t a big problem.

Losing the power of the ‘miracle’ I could use might be a little disappointing, but that too was a power that wasn’t originally mine.

However, if I couldn’t use the miracle… and the way back home disappeared forever, that was a different story.

What if my only goal, having fallen into this strange world, evaporated?

What should I do then?

I began to have a slight inkling of the feelings with which the man before me was asking these questions.

I answered.

“…..I don’t know. Whether I would just accept it and live on, or find it impossible to adapt. I wouldn’t know until I was in such a situation, would I?”

The man was silent for a moment, then nodded again.

“I understand. Thank you for your time.”

The Q&A ended there.

There were no more questions or answers exchanged.

The man’s gaze, naturally withdrawing, was an easy-to-understand dismissal.

All my tension up to this point felt pointless; I had received permission to just leave like this.

‘….Is this really the end?’

A sense of anticlimax mixed with a wave of relief.

Yet, why was I still hesitating, my hand on the doorknob of the reception room?

“……”

Actually, this situation wasn’t bad for me at all.

There was no reason to complain that he had called me just to ask this.

This was a corporation in Omega Detroit.

I hadn’t been kidnapped, and being invited so politely was, in fact, quite a privilege.

Moreover, I had met the chairman in person at the headquarters and come out unscathed.

That fact alone could be considered a great success.

So, no matter how I thought about it, this was the best outcome.

Being treated as some strange cultist and quietly slipping away was the safest option; I knew that well.

It was right to maintain a certain distance in my relationship with the corporation, just like supplying wine now.

I must never be arrogant.

He was the head of a corporation.

Just because we exchanged a few words of idle chat, he was absolutely not someone I should take lightly.

What kind of story did that haggard man have?

What did his talk of asking others for the meaning of life, as if he might give up everything at any moment, imply?

It had nothing to do with me.

I could just turn away and pretend I didn’t know.

‘Yes….. that’s the right thing to do.’

Why am I hesitating like this?

Is it because if I strip away his fame and status, I only see the face of a man sunk in deep resignation and despair?

Is it because he looks so tormented for someone who supposedly has everything in the world?

That expression was no different from the residents of the back alleys I had helped so far.

Weak human beings, suffering from the unavoidable misfortunes of life.

To feel the same kind of pity for a corporate chairman and a slum dweller… it’s absurd even to my own mind.

But if I didn’t discriminate against the poor when offering a helping hand to someone desperate, then there was no reason to turn away from the rich either, was there?

Someone once said that when people see a child falling into a well, they are startled and readily try to save the child, not because there’s any profit in it, but simply because it’s a natural human emotion to pity a child in danger.

Whether the child falling into the well is from a poor family or a rich family probably doesn’t matter.

There’s just someone in front of me who needs help right now.

‘….Yeah, well. No matter how I think about it, I feel like I overcharged him for the wine.’

Let’s just consider this the change.

I turned back and asked the man, who still wore a gloomy expression.

“If it’s not too much trouble, could you tell me a little about your story, Chairman?”