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Se-Hoon was uneasy.
Many people had said that sitting in a silent prayer room with not a single person in sight brought them peace, so why didn’t it for him? Instead, he felt like he was sitting in a place where he didn't belong.
On top of that, the room made him feel guilty even though he had done nothing wrong. It was thoroughly unpleasant in many ways.
“…”
He couldn't concentrate, his body kept flinching for no reason, and his eyes kept squinting over time.
In the end, he was unable to take it anymore. Feeling irritated by the annoyance slowly boiling inside him, he began to get up. And that was when a soft voice came from behind him.
“Please sit down.”
He then heard the sound of fabric brushing, and soon an elderly man in a pure white priestly robe sat across from him.
He had light brown skin and golden-hued eyes. He was a person who somehow, with his gentle face and unassuming build, exuded a heavy atmosphere.
Reflexively frowning, Se-Hoon looked at the elderly man—the bishop of the Pilgrimage Church, Kamal Sharma.
“Do you know how long I've been sitting here, sir? Hm?” The irritation in Se-Hoon’s voice was apparent.
“For four hours.”
“Then isn’t it time for us to leave? How long are you going to make me sit here doing nothing?”
Subjected to Se-Hoon’s annoyance, Kamal Sharma remained calm. Never once losing his gentle look, he gave his answer with no hesitan...
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