CH.14 Cult Leader Jack

"Elder Li?" The leader asked, puzzled, as he saw Jack stand up.

The leader of the Spirit Vein Holy Assembly, originally named Choi Yong-cheol, had been part of the peak era for various East Asian cults over a decade ago. Before coming to America, he'd tried founding his own in Korea to scam money.

At the time, he claimed to be Jesus's brother—a common ploy among cult leaders who fancied themselves as divine offspring.

After a few years, he'd gathered a few dozen followers, barely scraping by as a success.

Then, he got beaten up by thugs sent by a female leader who claimed to be Jesus's sister. No choice—competition among cults was fierce back then, and that neighborhood was already another group's turf. The mortal "siblings" of Jesus were oversaturated.

Realizing he couldn't compete, he fled to the United States.

Choi Yong-cheol studied videos of other cults' activities and the success stories of major ones to found the Spirit Vein Holy Assembly. He proclaimed himself the incarnation of the Holy Spirit, with the Power to commune with another world. He'd even fleshed out a detailed system for the "Holy Spirit realm"—after all, the key to a cult was crafting a compelling worldview and narrative to draw believers in deep.

But the first few years were lukewarm at best, until he met Jack. Jack brought in loads of people from the Chinese community. Many were immigrants—those anxious newcomers in unfamiliar surroundings, some even dealing with mental health issues—who were all too eager to donate to the church for some psychological solace.

Jack also poured in funds, and once the church grew, he didn't demand a cut; he just asked them to refer believers to his renovation services and push them to buy. So Choi Yong-cheol made him a grand elder, though he kept the real Power out of Jack's hands. All Jack had to do was show up early for gatherings.

But what was he doing now?

"Elder Li, what's wrong with you?" the leader asked.

"I..." Jack was a bit flustered. He'd stood up on impulse from the voice's urging, a heat surging through him, but now that he was on his feet, a sliver of calm returned.

"If nothing's wrong, sit down and don't disrupt the Holy Spirit," the leader snapped irritably.

"No... your Holy Spirit is fake," Li Ming—Jack glared at the leader and continued, "You're a false prophet, while I am the true apostle blessed by the divine."

What? The leader was utterly baffled. Was Elder Li trying to seize control of the cult? No way—he had no claim to it. Jack had always been pitched as the most devout follower of the Holy Spirit, nothing more, and he'd shown no ambition before. Wasn't he just in it for the money?

Yet Jack showed no signs of backing down. He pressed on: "The god commanded me to be here—to challenge... no, to rip away your false mask and reveal the divine authority."

I get it now, the leader thought, a lightbulb moment. Some rival cult must have bought him off to sabotage the gathering, expose the "Holy Spirit powers" as a scam, and poach his members. He couldn't let that happen.

"It's an evil spirit!" the leader shouted, pointing at Jack. "An evil spirit has corrupted Elder Li's mind! Come, take him away—I'll exorcise him myself!"

The white-robed, burly men stepped forward to grab Li Ming and drag him out first.

"What are you doing?" Jack swallowed hard and yelled, "Stop! I am—"

Before Jack could finish, the men suddenly clutched their stomachs. "It hurts... so much... aaaaah!"

"You... Li Ming! When did you bribe my bodyguards?!"

Jack acted as if he hadn't heard, staring at his trembling fingers. A tingling thrill spread from his scalp to his toes.

At the same time, a voice echoed—audible only to him: "Go. The blessing is at your fingertips. Display the divine gift."

"Hahaha, I'm real—you're fake!" Jack laughed maniacally, then strode onto the stage.

"What are you—" The leader didn't finish before Jack punched him. "Call me Jack."

"And this isn't your spot anymore. Get lost."

"You!" The leader clutched his bruised cheek, glaring venomously at the middle-aged man. This greedy, vulgar bastard had stolen his position—but glancing at the guards writhing on the floor, he backed down immediately.

"You'll regret this," the leader spat, storming off the stage without a backward glance, exiting the venue.

The room erupted in chaos.

No one knew what to make of it.

"Everyone, I think you haven't realized yet," Jack spread his arms wide, his tone theatrical. "The leader is a fraud! A con artist! This church is just a money-making scheme—the Holy Spirit is bogus, nonexistent!"

The clamor intensified: shock, confusion, and anger all mingling.

"But!" Jack bellowed over the din, "I, Jack, am the true servant of the divine—the apostle—who will spread the god's grace and reveal the real divinity to you all!"

He eyed the three burly men still curled up in agony on the floor.

Power, in the fingertips. So what should I do? Jack recalled the mysterious voice. He pointed a finger at them experimentally, and their pained groans ceased. Incredibly, they stood up.

"What... what the hell is going on?" one of them stammered in shock.

The rest of the room fell silent, all eyes on Jack—some amazed, some skeptical, a few burning with fervor.

Only Jack could see it: as he extended his finger, a beam of green light emanated from it, burrowing into their bodies.

"This is the miracle bestowed upon me by the god!" Jack's zeal ignited fully. Facing the crowd, his voice soared. "Who among you wants to feel this miraculous power?"

A woman raised her hand tentatively. "Um, Elder Li? No, Mr. Jack—can I try?"

"Come up," Jack said.

"I... I have lung cancer, so" The woman hesitated, her eyes flickering with hope.

Jack pointed without a second thought, the green light shooting forth.

The woman clutched her chest in disbelief, gasping: "It's... incredible! I feel so much better! It used to ache constantly—now it's eased up!"

"Is that so? Good, this is the Power of the god. Offer enough devotion and faith, and you'll be free from suffering in time," Jack replied. In truth, when the green light entered her, he'd sensed it only alleviated her pain temporarily—the healing was limited. But he wasn't worried; what mattered was the spectacle.

"Me too!" "And me!" "Lord, please bless me as well!"

Seeing the woman's color improve visibly, more people in the venue raised their hands to join her on stage. By the fifth green beam from Jack's fingertip, the room was in a frenzy. Many believers couldn't stay seated; they stood shouting, the atmosphere igniting like wildfire.

Even those without illnesses raised their hands, eager for the divine blessing.

"Alright, alright—the blessings aren't for one day only. We'll have another gathering soon," Jack said, feeling a wave of fatigue as he waved them off.

He turned to the white-robed guards, who had been cowering since earlier. "The power of the divine—you see it now?"

The three nodded mutely, afraid to speak.

"Good. Your pay stays the same. Follow me—I'm your boss now. Got it?"

"Understood!" They snapped to attention.

"Good, good, excellent!" Jack surveyed the fervent crowd around him. Before, he'd seen them as fools, and being worshipped by idiots, pointless.

But now, he reveled in it.

"Next week—no, in two days, we'll gather again. I am the servant of the divine—your new leader," Jack declared, then pondered further.

"As for the name..." Jack had no clue about this new faith, or even the god's name. He knew nothing, just passively receiving it all.

"Blood... for the advent of the holy blood!" A voice reverberated in his skull, and he announced to all:

Jack faced the assembly solemnly: "We are the Holy Blood Church!"