The summers in San Diego are pleasant.
When I visited Korea once, it was so unpleasant that people used the expression “steamer heat” to describe the summer.
However, unlike Korea, San Diego has low humidity, and even in the middle of summer, the temperature doesn’t soar too high.
Thanks to that, even though it was summer, I slept with the blanket pulled over my head and almost ended up being late.
Fortunately, when I didn’t wake up after the alarm went off twice, the smartwatch connected to my phone vibrated and woke me up.
I turned off the vibration alarm on my smartwatch and sat up groggily.
“Ah…”
I sat still for a few seconds, blinking blankly, before lifting the blanket to check inside. …Looks like I’m doing hand laundry today.
“At my age, a wet dream…”
Is it because I bought a smartwatch?
To think I’d have a dream about doing that kind of thing with Caesar Ohon.
‘It was sexy and nice, but thinking about the laundry makes it a net zero.’
I let out a long yawn and spoke to myself out of habit.
“Anyway, since a billionaire appeared in my dream, maybe I should buy a lottery ticket.”
To say I should buy a lottery ticket just because a celebrity appeared in a dream—if anyone else heard that, they’d ask what kind of logic that was.
But for me, there was a surprisingly valid reason.
‘My dreams tend to be quite accurate.’
It had been that way since I was around ten years old.
Whenever I had a dream, the contents would come true with near-perfect accuracy.
‘I heard my mother once had a conception dream… They say having strange dreams is quite common in Korea, and even I, who only inherited the blood, am particularly good at having prophetic dreams.’
I thought to myself as I rubbed my eyes, which were swollen and hard to open.
‘I should automatically buy a few tickets on my way home from work.’
I added “Buy Lottery Ticket” to my smartphone’s notification list and then started getting ready for work.
Was it because of the dream about Caesar Ohon?
Today, there were particularly many encounters related to him.
‘For instance, the printed T-shirt of that customer passing by over there…’
McQueen also seemed to find the T-shirt with Caesar’s face printed huge on it funny, as he kept glancing at the back of the passing customer.
Then, he suddenly spoke up.
“Must be nice for you.”
“Huh?”
McQueen tapped the area around his own left eye.
“You have the same eye color as Caesar Ohon.”
“What?”
“Your left eye. The side with heterochromia. It’s very beautiful, sparkling like silver.”
After saying that, McQueen added, “Of course, I’m not flirting. I’m straight.”
“I’m really jealous. It must be easy to charm people, right?”
“Haha, you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking. Light-colored eyes are the definition of romantic. But on top of that, yours is the same silver as the people of the Ohon family.”
I burst into laughter at his strange compliment.
“Did you join the Church of Ohon or something?”
Declaring that you won’t go to church anymore because you joined the “Church of Ohon” is a recent trend on social media.
It was a type of content that became explosively popular after Caesar Ohon, who has almost religious popularity, was chosen as the next head of the family.
‘Of course, it’s mostly just a small rebellion by young Protestants who are too lazy to go to church. Not many people actually convert for real.’
McQueen answered sheepishly.
“I’m not a kid who hates going to church on Sundays. More importantly, I’m Catholic.”
“Sure you are.”
When I gave a vague answer, McQueen asked back as if he found it strange.
“If it were me, I would have posted hundreds of photos of my face on social media, but you don’t seem very impressed. Isn’t it a good thing to share a common trait with a celebrity?”
“If you look at it in a positive way, sure. Being special isn’t a bad thing.”
But on the flip side, being special isn’t always a good thing, right?
“There were plenty of people who hated this trait.”
“Who on earth?”
“The real fanatics of the Church of Ohon.”
Yes. There is a reason why Caesar’s popularity is described as “religious.”
“Nowadays, calling yourself a member of the Church of Ohon is a joke, but when I was a kid, it wasn’t a joke at all.”
As far as I can remember, those with the surname Ohon have been obsessed with donations for at least thirty years.
The current head, Caesar, is one thing, but his parents, who were the heads before him, also established many foundations and poured money everywhere.
“If you add it up from his grandfather’s generation, it’s a family that has easily donated six trillion dollars. It makes sense that people would appear who worship them like actual gods.”
“Yeah, I understand that. But I’m asking why the Church of Ohon people hate you.”
“Heterochromia developed in my eye the same year Caesar Ohon went for firearms training and lost his eye. My accident actually happened a week earlier.”
It was an accident that happened at a very coincidental time.
Thanks to that, I clearly remember the strange looks poured upon me the day I took off the eye patch I had worn for a year after the accident.
No one said it out loud, but everyone naturally thought of one person.
“During my school days, I was even called the ‘Eyeball Thief’.”
“That’s nonsense. Eyeball transplants have had successful cases, but it’s not a commercialized technology yet.”
“Right. So logically, it makes no sense. But a religion is about believing in things that cannot be explained by logic.”
I said with a casual smile.
“There are just people like that.”
McQueen looked at me with a face that said he didn’t understand.
I didn’t bother trying to explain further to him.
I figured that as long as he was working with me, he would encounter an Ohon fanatic at least once.
And luckily, on that very day, McQueen learned that my words were true.
Because at nOhon, a fanatic of the Ohon cult visited the department store.
A man with long, shaggy hair shouted menacingly.
“You’re the guy who begged God for his eyeball!”
I looked at his unfocused eyes and thought to myself.
Forget buying a lottery ticket because a billionaire appeared in my dream.
It was a warning that I’d run into a fanatic related to him.
‘Should I really wear contact lenses to work like someone suggested… But if I wear lenses, my corneal condition worsens rapidly, so that’s a bit difficult…’
While I was just smiling brightly in my predicament, McQueen, who was in charge of the opposite side, spoke to me through the radio.
A sound came through the in-ear monitor connected to my ear.
‘I heard Caesar Ohon was filming near here this morning.’
Ah.
‘You know the park behind the department store? They said he filmed a commercial there.’
So he came to the department store after stopping by to see that.
As I made a face showing I understood, McQueen brought his lips to the radio again.
‘Should I call security?’
I answered by giving a slight nod.
In the meantime, the fanatic, whose patience had run out, swung his arms and screamed.
“Give it back right now!”
He strode toward me and reached out his hand. He looked like he was about to gouge out my eye with his bare hands if left alone.
‘Oops.’
I’m glad I asked McQueen for security…
I said while maintaining my composure as much as possible.
“Sir, you shouldn’t do this.”
“That is Caesar Ohon’s eye!”
“It’s my eye, sir… This is unfair…”
The color is just a bit weird, but this was made from my own cells…
However, the fanatic barely listened to me and screamed at the top of his lungs as if he were the victim.
“Don’t you even feel sorry for that man?!”
I think you’re the one who needs to feel a bit sorry for me…
‘He’s furious. It’s usually hard to persuade someone who is angry. How am I supposed to coax him and send him back…’
Could I calm him down by saying I’d give it back later? That would be nice.
It was the moment I thought that and raised both hands as if surrendering with a smile.
The fanatic quickly pulled something out and aimed it straight at my forehead.
“…”
As the self-defense revolver sparkled in the light, screams erupted from all directions.
“…”
The security guards who rushed over pulled out their tasers and aimed at the fanatic, but the fanatic didn’t seem scared at all and even started smirking.
“The eye and the head must be returned to that man. So, I won’t shoot the head.”
He had nothing to lose. He thought it was okay to die here.
Thinking that made cold sweat run down my back.
“But I’m so angry because you aren’t reflecting on your actions…”
“Sir, please calm down first.”
“What on earth did that man do wrong to have to lose an eye at the young age of twelve?”
The fanatic scowled deeply as if it were unfair and aimed the muzzle toward my leg.
There’s a femoral artery in the leg too, you idiot!
“Give it back…”
The moment I turned pale, overwhelmed by that madness.
A low voice was heard from a distance.
“The thing that took my eye was a Glock.”
A voice so low it felt intimidating, with clear pronunciation.
And a tone so soft it sounded almost gentle compared to the pressure it exerted.
“Foreign matter got in while I was cleaning the firearm, and because I practiced shooting without noticing it, the Glock exploded backward.”
The owner of the voice closed the distance between us in just a few steps.
soon, he approached the side of the fanatic and whispered in a voice tinged with a smile.
“Good boy. You shouldn’t take out your anger on the wrong person.”
“Oh, God…”
“I’d like it if you gave that to me.”
Then, the fanatic handed the gun over to the other person with trembling hands.
Only then did the tension break.
“Phew…”
I forced my stiff, rigid neck up to look at the man.
Charcoal-colored hair grown long only at the back with many layers.
A tall stature and a sturdy frame. …An eyepatch.
Since he was talking to the fanatic, I couldn’t see his face properly, but every characteristic matched.
‘No way, for real?’
As I stared blankly at the back of the man’s head, he turned his head to check on me.
An appearance as flawless and perfect as a doll sculpted from wax… and an eye sparkling like melted silver entered my view.
Now that I’ve seen that face, I can no longer deny it.
‘Caesar Ohon.’
The man who appeared in my dream last night had truly appeared here.
