In the Name of God - Chapter 80.1
What kind of face did my Apostle have?
Even though my memories have vanished, the fact that I remember him as purely lovely and beautiful suggests that his appearance as a teenager during this time must also be indescribably cute. Perhaps he possessed such outstanding beauty that one would worry someone might steal him away, or maybe he had a charming face that naturally drew people’s gaze.
No.
Actually… It didn’t matter what he looked like.
I just wanted to somehow remember that child, whom I cherished more than my own last breath.
However, contrary to my expectations, the face of the replica after I pulled back the veil was not that of my Apostle.
“Ha…”
It looked as if it had been brushed over with black paint.
I had roughly guessed that no other colors would be visible since he was shrouded in black energy, but I didn’t expect a featureless face like an egg, where I couldn’t even distinguish the volume of the eyes, nose, or mouth.
‘They’re making it so I can’t recognize him even to this extent?’
As if the noise-filled voice wasn’t enough, I couldn’t even discern the outline of his features.
I couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t because this guy’s mimicry was halfway done, but rather the work of the system that had snatched away my memories.
As I stood there scowling while holding the veil, the boy laughed with a crackling voice.
“You must be curious about my face.”
The black boy took a step toward me. His small breath reached my chin.
“I am more curious about God, though.”
God.
The boy called me that as if he were truly my Apostle.
‘I don’t like it.’
My mood gradually soured.
Who do you think you’re daring to imitate?
Even though the face, voice, and the memories of the days that could be called “remembrances” of my Apostle had mostly flown away, to me, that child was the one and only existence that no one could replace.
Just the fact that he stood before me by mimicking that child made anger well up inside me. The phantom I met in the Disaster Zone dungeon was an unavoidable existence derived from memory, but isn’t this guy someone who is intentionally mimicking my Apostle?
‘…Let’s endure it. There are many hostages below, and there are things I need to find out from this guy too.’
According to the briefing, it was said that for this boss monster to transform into an Awakener, it must be exposed to that Awakener’s abilities.
Perhaps this guy had directly met my Apostle.
‘I need to find out if that child came here.’
If he had visited, I needed to find out when that was, if it was indeed that child who completed that wooden statue, and how my appearance from the Outer Sea could be manifested in this world.
I had to start by looking into that.
To do so, rather than consistently playing the role of someone who knows nothing, I had to act as if I really were the “God” he thought I was. Though, in reality, I was currently just the human Seong Do-yoon.
When I removed my hand from the veil with calm eyes, the languidly draped cloth covered the boy’s bizarre face. The sight of him covered like this looked more human than when the veil was lifted.
The boy, laughing softly from behind the veil, raised both hands and gently cupped my face.
The body temperature touching my face was cold as ice, making me want to take a step back, but before I knew it, something like black stalks was winding around my entire body.
I thought they were animal tentacles or tree stalks, but judging by the lack of texture or weight, they seemed to be something similar to the black energy. If I had to define it, was it closer to a shadow that possessed physical force?
While I calmly analyzed the shadows restraining me, the boy was incessantly fiddling with my face.
“Hmm…. This face isn’t bad either, but I want to see the original face.”
After meticulously touching my face from the eye area to the tip of my chin, he finally pulled his hands away. A sense of regret remained at his fingertips.
“What do I have to do to see God’s real face?”
“Real face?”
“The wooden statue on the first floor is God’s true form. The face must be real as well.”
I instinctively flinched at the words the boy spat out so casually.
As expected, was the wooden statue on the first floor made by this replica?
I heard that because the transformation ability is so excellent, when it turns into a human, it even inherits those memories and abilities.
However, even if he really mimicked my Apostle and inherited his memories, there was no way he could know my face.
Because I had never shown my real appearance to the Apostle, not even once.
“In my eyes, I cannot see the face of the wooden statue. It’s as if someone erased the face with an eraser; I simply cannot see it.”
As expected, the boy didn’t seem to know my real face. To be precise, “cannot see it” was the correct way to put it.
The boy, having stepped away from me, spread his arms and pointed to the surroundings.
“Look. Even though I’ve made this many wooden statues, I can’t carve them in the face.”
Belatedly seeing the surroundings by following his hand, I couldn’t help but swallow the outburst of ‘What a nutcase.’
The second floor was filled with wooden statues of various sizes—not only on top of and inside the shelves, chests, and display cases, but even in the hallway. They were aligned in such perfect rows and columns that it was neat to the point of obsession, making it even eerie.
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