Chapter 16: Punk City, The Boy and The Girl (2)

Blue Moon Resort.

A four-star hotel located a whopping seven hours away from the orphanage where Amon and Sonia lived.

As the name Blue Moon suggests, the resort primarily targeted couples.

An added bonus was its popularity amongst couples looking to propose, honeymooners, and those engaging in extramarital affairs.

Amon and Sonia were headed to this very sanctuary for lovers.

One might wonder how two mere orphans could afford such a place, but,

“Thank you, Priest.”

It was all possible thanks to the Squinting Priest's boundless generosity.

The original plan was to crack open their piggy bank and visit a moderately priced resort, but the Priest's support changed their destination.

He even went above and beyond, driving them there personally and promising an escort of Holy Knights from the Vatican to protect them within the resort.

Sonia was wary of the Priest's almost burdensome generosity, but Amon gratefully accepted it.

From Amon's perspective, there was sufficient reason behind the Priest's kindness.

‘Was it that obvious?’

When Amon expressed his anxiety about the Hickzen Group during Confession, the Priest immediately requested the Vatican dispatch Holy Knights.

Even before Amon brought up his intention to join the Vatican, the mere mention of fear made them realize that Amon and Sonia were planning to come to them.

While an outsider might not understand, the Priest’s immediate support after learning about their intent to join the Vatican seemed, in a way, quite calculating.

‘Can't let my guard down around him.’

He may act kind, but the occasional sharpness he displayed suggested he wasn't just any ordinary Priest.

However, that personality was something Amon could rely on for now.

Being calculating meant he was consistent.

Securing two Divine Power wielders at once made a four-star hotel reservation and a Holy Knight escort a worthwhile investment.

Thanks to this, Amon could trust the Priest.

Or rather, he could trust the Vatican's calculations and the current situation.

Unlike Amon, however, Sonia seemed quite dissatisfied.

Worried the Priest might overhear, she texted him.

[Do we really have to go with him? I thought it was just us? And what's with the Holy Knights escorting us there?]

Amon couldn't help but smile wryly at her complaints.

He understood her disappointment.

To her, a cheap resort trip just the two of them would be far more enjoyable than a four-star hotel funded by the Priest.

Amon understood completely.

But if they went to a resort alone, it wouldn't be surprising if mercenaries from the Hickzen Group kidnapped them.

Thus, Amon silently endured her disappointment and tried to appease her.

[When else are we going to a place like this before graduation? It's a 4-star hotel. The Nuns even recommended it.]

Smoothly handling Sonia's complaints that arrived every ten minutes, Amon recalled his objective.

‘Primary objective: Keep Sonia away from the corporation.’

Employment, work experience, internships…

She had to stay away from the Hickzen Group, no matter the method.

And this trip was meant to keep her away from the corporation until graduation.

‘Secondary objective: Increase her favorability towards the Vatican.’

Amon didn’t like the Vatican either, but they were the lesser of two evils.

At least they didn’t sacrifice people and they definitely protected their own.

However, Sonia couldn't receive their protection if she continued rejecting them.

This was why they were going on this trip.

Amon calculated that after enjoying a pleasant experience at the hotel, Sonia's favorability towards the Vatican, who sponsored the trip, might increase, even if just a little.

Swipe.

Lost in thought, Amon felt Sonia's fingers tickle the back of his hand from an angle the Priest couldn't see in the rearview mirror.

Amon responded to her playfulness by intertwining their fingers.

Their hand-holding continued for a while, and then, when they got bored, Sonia's complaints resumed via text messages.

When Sonia eventually fell asleep from exhaustion, Amon closed his eyes as well.

Watching the two sleeping children in the quiet car, the Priest’s gaze softened.

And when they opened their eyes, they had arrived at the resort.

***

Blue Moon Resort had two main courses.

The Summer Season Course and the Winter Season Course.

It was a feasible offering, considering that Colorado, where Blue Moon Resort was located, experienced scorching summers and winters with enough snowfall to make one curse.

The Summer Course allowed guests to enjoy swimming in the pool in front of the resort or fishing in the artificial lake.

The Winter Course allowed guests to ski on the mountain behind the resort.

The prices of these two courses varied depending on the season.

You could choose the Winter Course in summer, but you'd have to bear the cost of generating artificial snow in the middle of summer.

You could choose the Summer Course in winter, but you'd have to pay for heating the pool and keeping the snow away.

Surprisingly, the off-season packages had sustained the resort for decades.

Thanks to nouveau riche and influencers who lacked the courage to visit true high-end hotels.

However, Amon never dreamed they'd be experiencing this package.

“Wow… a pool in winter…”

The power of money was truly great.

Great enough to ‘specifically’ create a greenhouse to replicate summer temperatures and use the refractive index of a barrier to simulate summer sunlight.

On the other side of the barrier separating the Summer and Winter Courses, people bundled up in winter gear, holding skis, were visible.

If he let his guard down even slightly, he felt a sense of superiority swelling within him.

‘Get a grip, Amon. You’re not here because you're special.’

Amon admonished himself, suppressing the elitist thoughts trying to surface.

Still, experiencing this feeling made him understand.

Why the nouveau riche and influencers visited this place.

This pleasure derived from superiority was a feeling rarely experienced in a city where everyone was dying equally.

It was too addictive and rewarding to simply dismiss as vanity.

But Amon couldn't afford to feel that way.

To him, everyone in the world was a child of the same mother, and thus, his siblings.

Feeling superior to anyone was an insult to his mother's will.

Waiting for Sonia, who was still in the changing room, he bowed his head and repeatedly made the sign of the cross over the cardigan draped over his bare skin.

Other guests passing by gave him strange looks.

Among them, some gossipy female guests whispered behind him.

“Is that some new fashion? A shirt and a hat at the pool?”

“Isn't it a religious thing? He's been doing weird movements since earlier.”

“Then that hat… is it like that… head covering they wear in the Middle East?”

“A hijab? But he’s a man?”

“He might not be.”

In the Cyberpunk era, gender transitions and being intersex weren't that rare.

In fact, there was a good chance that the women having the conversation weren't actually 'women.'

Therefore, their conversation wasn't gossip or backbiting, just a typical American casual chat.

However, Amon's software was that of a 21st-century Korean Confucian scholar.

He wore a cardigan and a hat because his Korean habits still lingered.

Habits, unlike appearances, were hard to break.

This was why he stubbornly adhered to this fashion even in front of the Priest in the changing room, who found his fashion odd.

‘Ugh. What am I supposed to do if I’m embarrassed?’

They were whispering about him without knowing his circumstances, and it didn't feel good to hear.

Intellectually, he knew this was American culture, but emotionally, it was irritating.

…To be honest, he didn't really care about the fashion critique; the biggest reason he was irked was their speculation that he might not be male.

Amon turned around with a hardened expression, intending to correct their misunderstanding.

And the moment he made eye contact to tell them off,

“Gasp…!”

He couldn't help but close his mouth at the sight of their sharp intakes of breath.

‘What?’

Amon wondered if he had unconsciously made a scary expression and quickly tried to compose himself.

The women, with exaggerated reactions, squealed and approached him with their phones.

“Oh my, are you a Face Talk star? We didn’t even recognize you.”

“No? I don’t use SNS.”

Amon didn’t even use SNS, let alone be a star.

He responded somewhat curtly, feeling awkward.

But for some reason, they found his answer amusing, giggling and continuing their attempts to engage him.

“Then are you here for a modeling shoot?”

“No.”

It was quite a leap in logic, considering his fashion.

But looking at Amon's face, the deduction seemed reasonable.

However, Amon was neither accustomed to nor comfortable with such flattery.

‘A model? I'm an orphan.’

He momentarily considered responding with a sarcastic remark but decided against crossing the line.

The women's persistent barrage of questions continued.

Every answer from Amon, as if it were their personal laugh track, was met with positive reactions.

Eventually, the topic shifted to whether he had a girlfriend.

‘What do I do…’

Amon didn't have a girlfriend.

But he knew he couldn't honestly answer that in front of these women.

Saying he didn't have a girlfriend would inevitably lead to them asking him out, putting Amon in the uncomfortable position of having to reject them.

It was quite a challenging situation for the shy Korean, Amon.

One might think rejecting someone wasn’t a big deal, but surprisingly, this was Amon’s first time being hit on.

He was always with Sonia, or people knew he was with Sonia.

‘Come to think of it, there’s Sonia.’

Amon finally remembered Sonia's existence.

The option of pretending she was his girlfriend popped into his mind.

However, there was a problem.

‘Would she even go along with this?’

This situation was a first.

Asking a close friend to pretend to be his girlfriend, even if they were close, could be considered rude, so Amon hesitated.

His dilemma was soon resolved by the person in question.

“Honey, what's going on?”

At the familiar voice, Amon's face brightened as he turned towards the direction of the voice.

He began to formulate the words to ask her to play along.

However, the words forming in his mind were instantly wiped clean the moment he saw Sonia.

A white one-piece swimsuit, a similar color to her silver hair.

As Sonia usually disliked showing her belly button, the swimsuit covered it.

However, whichever well-meaning… or rather, perverted designer created the swimsuit, it still outlined her navel.

Healthy thighs peeked out from beneath the swimsuit that beautifully accentuated her pelvic line.

But all of this was rendered insignificant by one thing:

‘Boo…Booba…’ [1]

The overwhelming symbol of motherhood and the source of divinity.

What else could be the source of Divine Power if not this?

The impact of the swimsuit was incredibly powerful for Amon, who had underestimated their size due to her usual baggy clothes.

‘That designer… whoever they are, I respect them.’

Amon finally understood the concept of “the beauty of concealment” that he had heard somewhere.

Looking at Sonia, Amon didn't bother suppressing his pounding heart.

He was 18, about to pack his bags and leave the orphanage this year. This level of reaction was by no means problematic.

‘My childhood friend was this amazing…’

Amon couldn’t help but feel grateful for the connection the Goddess had bestowed(?) upon him.

Amon was a devout believer, but he was also a man.

And no doctrine forbade men from having feelings for women; this was something the Lady Goddess herself had acknowledged.

- Why do you think I created men and women separately?

Therefore, Amon's racing heart was theologically unproblematic.

‘Right. What was I going to say?’

Amon suddenly remembered his situation.

Seeing her one-piece had made his mind as blank as its color, and he’d forgotten what he was about to say.

Even if he tried to recall it, his mind was filled with the word “Booba.”

Only his transcendental rationality prevented the word from being uttered; if he let his guard down even slightly, it felt like it would burst out.

Sonia basked in Amon’s gaze.

The stares she felt from the moment she left the changing room until she reached Amon were incredibly unpleasant, but his gaze brought her boundless happiness and satisfaction.

She felt that if he wanted, she could show him more in private in their room.

Amon’s gaze shifted to her ponytail.

She wore the hairpin he had gifted her.

Amon, his voice still tinged with awkwardness, acknowledged the pin.

“Oh, darling. You brought that pin?”

Darling.

What a beautiful word!

Pride swelled within Sonia’s chest!

She felt a surge of willpower!

This newfound willpower emboldened her to do something she wouldn’t normally do.

Swaying her hips, she approached Amon.

She looped her arm around his, pressing the very mounds he couldn’t take his eyes off of against his arm.

Her ample breasts were squished against Amon's arm.

Amon’s arm stiffened.

She’d heard on YouTube that men flex their biceps when a girl they like touches their arm. Amon seemed no different.

‘Should I tell him to flex?’

According to YouTube, telling a man to flex in this situation was taboo.

They'd apparently try to flex no matter what, even if their muscles were about to burst.

However, her playfulness ended there.

She wanted to get rid of the unwelcome guests and enjoy her time with Amon.

Sonia pretended to notice the women who had been talking to Amon.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did we interrupt your conversation?”

Amon is mine.

She glared at them, conveying that message.

However, the women’s reaction was completely different from what Sonia expected.

Instead of jealousy or hostility, she was met with looks of admiration.

“Oh, no! You have a girlfriend. We didn’t realize.”

“We’ll leave you two alone!”

“Have a lovely time!”

And with that, they quickly disappeared.

Jealousy only arose when people were on a similar level.

When someone was this overwhelmingly superior, it was only natural to feel admiration and envy instead of jealousy.

Not particularly bothered by the well-wishing from the women, a faint smile graced Sonia's lips.

Then, she put on a seductive smile she'd read about somewhere, looking up at Amon.

“Shall we go?”

She didn't specify where.

But Amon, despite his size, was helplessly led by Sonia's hand as he replied.

“Yes.”

As he answered, Amon’s mind was filled with the national anthem, a desperate attempt to control his increasingly enthusiastic junior.

***

Opportunity knocks but once.

Sonia knew this better than anyone.

Right now, when Amon showed romantic interest in her for the first time, was her chance to win him over.

Therefore, she could do things she wouldn't normally do without hesitation.

She intentionally brushed her chest against him on the way to the pool,

bumped her hips against his,

and spoke close enough for her breath to tickle his ear.

Her strategy was extremely effective.

She could feel his body stiffening through her arm.

She had a further plan.

‘If we go into the pool like this…’

She planned to pretend her hairpin had come loose while splashing around in the pool and retie her hair.

In the process, she would flash her armpits at Amon, striking a direct blow to his heart.

But her plan crumbled the moment Amon entered the pool.

Splash!

Amon, pushed into the water by Sonia’s playful shove.

Unable to refuse her, he resurfaced with a chuckle, his hat gone.

His appearance, fully revealed with the hat removed.

The sight of him slicking back his wet hair hit Sonia’s preferences right on the mark.

‘Was this my type?’

The glistening wet hair.

The sculpted muscles visible beneath his translucent, waterlogged cardigan.

His jawline and eyes, usually downplayed by his lowered hair, were now fully exposed as he brushed his hair back.

‘That’s… a lethal weapon…’

A weapon that pierced women’s hearts and made even men clap involuntarily.

Its destructive power was so immense that the pool fell silent the moment Amon emerged from the water.

Sonia, whose eyes were locked on him, was hit hardest by the impact.

Her brain had short-circuited.

It dedicated all its processing power to etching Amon's jawline and abs into her memory, abandoning any strategic thoughts.

The remaining capacity was allocated to maintaining her usual demeanor, the one Amon liked.

Therefore, she had no room to execute her planned operation.

While Sonia was incapacitated, Amon wasn’t much different.

He, too, was experiencing unfamiliar flutters at the sight of Sonia in a way he hadn't in their everyday life.

Along with the intuition that they could no longer go back to how things were.

[1] This was in english btw.