This Wasn’t an Erotic Game?

Chapter 38 - I'm the Crazy One in This Temple

『 Translator – Divinity 』

{The doubters asked the prophet again, saying,

O Prophet, should we also bestow grace upon the wicked? If so, for how long should we do so? They asked to test him.

The prophet answered them, saying,

The Goddess of Grace has given humans the ability to distinguish between good and evil; therefore, be patient and compassionate towards those who strive for good.

But do not spare the rod for those whom the Goddess has abandoned to their lost hearts.

For they are the slanderers, the greedy, the malicious, the envious, the murderers, the instigators of conflict,

Those who do not pity the widows and orphans,

Those who fill only their own bellies with the grace meant for the hungry,

Those who swallow tears without shame.

The Goddess despises such people and has cursed them, saying that not only their bodies but also their souls shall perish.}

– Scripture of Grace, Chapter 13, Verse 11 –

── 𓆩♱𓆪 ──

The factory manager, sprawled on the ground, looked at me with a horrified expression.

"Th-This is violence!!"

It seemed like he was about to say that.

Yes.

You're right.

It is violence.

"There are things you should say and things you shouldn't!!"

I flew towards the factory manager.

My belt tore through the air mercilessly, making a ripping sound.

The factory manager's well-tailored suit was torn apart.

And below that, his fat, naked body was completely exposed.

The pose he had collapsed in was perfect for the cover of a DVD case titled, "Exposed in Front of Everyone: Naked Body Under Torn Clothes.avi.”

Now, scream at the people?

"Pwease!! Hawp! Hawp me!! Hawp!!"

The factory manager, his swollen mouth making his pronunciation unclear, waved his hands and pleaded with the police and guards, but no one dared to approach.

"C-Can we shoot him? Boss?"

"He's a saint. A saint recognized by the Pantheon, the first in 300 years. If even a single bullet hits him by mistake, we're all done for."

The police officers didn't dare approach, and the factory manager's guards also hesitated, just watching.

Meanwhile…

I was gleefully beating up the factory manager.

"Pwease!! It hurwts!! Aaaaagh!!"

"Does it hurt? Does it hurt? Are you in pain? Imagine how much more painful it was for those who burned to death in the factory!"

I kept hitting him until the factory manager foamed at the mouth and fainted.

Only then did I stop the beating, and the police officers cautiously approached me.

Their faces held a subtle hint of satisfaction.

"Saint, that's enough. With this..."

No.

It's not enough yet, you bastards.

I placed my hand on the factory manager's body.

I'm the Healing Saint, aren't I?

I have to live up to the name.

The factory manager's swollen cheeks and the corn that had been scattered in the air were restored.

His bruised body and swollen face were also completely healed.

I have no intention of killing you.

I'm going to make sure you never die.

That way, you can be beaten for a long, long time.

"W-Wait. Wait. Saint, please calm down!... Agh!"

Calm down, my ass?!

I healed you just so I could hit you harder!!

The chilling sound of tearing flesh echoed once again as a brutal beating commenced.

At the factory manager's screams and the sound of his skin splitting, the people watching the scene began to rise from their spots one by one.

"Good job! Hit him harder!"

"Good job! Good job!”

"That son of a bitch! He paid us 1 Leon (about 1,000 won) a day and made us work for over 20 hours!! Even a dog would be treated better than that!"

Everyone started cheering me on.

If he fainted from the beating, I would heal him.

If he fainted from the beating, I'd heal him again.

An endless cycle of beatings ensued.

"Help me! What are the police doing!! Someone save me! Are you just going to watch this assault?!"

By the third time he was healed, the factory manager was clinging to the police officers' pants.

But the police officers nonchalantly stepped back.

A subtle, mocking smirk was the bonus.

"I'm sorry, Factory Manager. By law, we should arrest the Saint for assaulting a civilian, but... what if we touch him and get struck by divine punishment? We don't want to be punished by the heavens either.”

"What the hell are you talking about!... Agh!"

After being healed about five times, he clung to the thugs guarding him.

"Money! I'm paying you! You bastards! Protect me! Stop him, will you!!"

"If even a scratch appears on the Saint's body, what would the followers of Lilia and the Grace Church do? We don't want to be put on trial for heresy for insulting a saint, Factory Manager. Unless you pay us ten times what you're paying now..."

"I will! I can even pay you twenty times, so please!... Agh!"

The sound of his skin splitting with each strike was incredibly satisfying.

It felt good.

It felt like all the time I had spent trembling in fear of hell was being undone.

You son of a bitch.

You absolute bastard.

I went through hell, literally walking on air, to save one person, and you're spouting that nonsense after turning people into charcoal because you didn't even install proper fire safety equipment?

You son of a bitch.

You're going to die by my hand today.

Seven times.

Eight times.

After the tenth healing...

The factory manager finally clung to my pants.

"Please spare me! Please! I'll do anything you ask! Please! Please stop hitting me!!"

I stopped swinging the belt, now stained red with blood and bits of flesh.

"This factory, you said it's run by Leota Company?"

"Th-that's right! It's run by Leota Company."

"Call your boss."

"...Excuse me?"

"Boss!! Take me to where your boss is!! Do you want to get hit again?"

"I'll guide you! Please get in the car! Right now! I'll take you there with the speed of a bullet!!"

"Hurry up!!"

I got in the car with the factory manager.

"He's going to punish the boss of Leota Company!"

"Let's follow him! We can see it if we go to Baron Hanson's mansion!!"

Everyone who had been watching the Saint's beating show started shouting and following my car.

I glanced at them, then ordered the driver in front of me.

"Step on it, you bastard. What are you waiting for?"

Perhaps because he had witnessed the brutal beating for over thirty minutes...

The driver, without saying a word, floored the gas pedal.

In less than three minutes…

I arrived in front of a mansion in District 10, where the wealthy resided.

"H-here it is. Baron Hanson is inside... Ugh!"

After kicking the factory manager to clear the way, I got out of the car.

The iron gates of the mansion stood firmly in my way.

"Open it."

I ordered the factory manager, and he whimpered.

"They won't open it for anyone who isn't authorized... Huh? Huh???"

"Then you can open it."

20x strength.

Fat pig toss!

The obese factory manager flew through the air.

His body crashed against the iron gate.

It was a sturdy gate, but it couldn't withstand the kinetic energy generated by the tremendous speed and the factory manager's weight.

With a loud crash, the gate was flung open.

"Ugh!"

I approached the factory manager, who was groaning and rolling on the ground like a character in a children's cartoon, and he burst into tears and prostrated himself.

"P-Please!! Please stop hitting me!!"

"Stay right here and don't move an inch."

I had no intention of killing these guys.

If I killed them, it would just be my own personal murder.

I wanted the people who were injured and hurt in the factory fire to feel vindicated.

I wanted to show them these guys being punished by the law and the system.

Wouldn't that give them a reason to believe that the world is still worth living in, that they should keep living despite the hardships and struggles?

"Yes! Yes! I won't move an inch!... Agh!!"

The factory manager was thrown to the ground again, spitting out corn from the impact of my belt.

His eyes rolled back, foam appeared at the corner of his mouth, and he even wet himself as he went limp. It seemed like he had fainted.

I'll make sure you're punished somehow, whether it's by the Lilia Church, the Pantheon, or His Majesty the Emperor.

I'll pin some heresy charge on you, no matter what!

But before that...

I had to beat up that Baron Hanson or whatever his name was.

I held the belt, now enchanted with blood and flesh, and strode into the mansion.

As I stepped inside, the maids and butlers flinched at the sight of me.

It was no surprise.

My pure white priest's robes were long since stained.

My hair was disheveled, and my belt was soaked in blood and flesh.

"Where is Baron Hanson?"

I asked in a low voice, and a reply came immediately.

"H-He's working in his study..."

"Lead the way.”

The maid gestured towards the location of the study.

I strode towards it.

The armed guards noticed me, but most of them moved out of the way when they saw me.

And those who didn't?

"Even if you're a saint, this is private property!... Agh!!"

They were left writhing on the floor, their screams turning into pig-like squeals, with red corn and swollen cheeks as souvenirs.

No one could stop me, and soon, I was standing in front of the study of that Baron Hanson or whatever his name was.

The door was firmly locked, but that wasn't a problem.

I kicked it open and entered.

A skinny man in his fifties, who had been working at his desk, jumped up with a look of sheer terror.

"Wh-Who is it?? Who are you? How did you get in here... Saint?"

"Are you the owner of Leota Company?"

"Y-Yes, I am, but...?"

"Did you know there was a fire at your factory?"

Baron Hanson's eyes darted around nervously.

He got up from his seat with a servile smile.

"Haha! I sent one of my employees. I'm sure he handled it appropriately, but do you have any complaints?"

"Let me ask you one thing."

I smiled sweetly and cast Absolute Hypnosis on Baron Hanson.

"How did you usually handle it when someone was injured or died at the factory? Tell me the truth, and don't lie."

"I paid compensation of about 1 Saled. But that was just for show. There are ways to get it all back through the back door. Or sending thugs to threaten them and take it back. Or telling them to work for free for the next four months since they already received four months' worth of wages upfront. They're beggars, so they're more afraid of losing their jobs than anything, so they would readily spit the money back out with just a simple threat.”

Baron Hanson replied with a "hehe" laugh.

What was even more shocking was that normally, after blurting out such an unfavorable truth, one would cover their mouth or tremble in shock, but this bastard in front of me showed no such signs.

It meant that he had no sense of guilt or remorse, not even the slightest awareness that what he was doing was shameful.

"Still, I'm quite generous. Many other factories would just kick them out without paying any compensation. But may I ask why you're here? Did those burnt beggars perhaps cause you any inconvenience... Aagghh!!”

"You fucking, goddamn, motherfucking, son of a bitch!! Are you even human!!"

The belt made a satisfying crack!

Baron Hanson, like a graceful swan, flew through the air.

I, too, became a graceful swan and flew through the air.

And proceeded to beat the crap out of him.

"Agh!! Agh!! N-No!! Why are you doing this!! Th-this is clearly illegal!!... Agh!!"

Whack whack.

I answered him with my hands instead of my mouth.

Baron Hanson continued to blabber even as he was being beaten.

"This is illegal!! Y-You! You think you can do whatever you want because you're a saint? Even a saint can be arrested by the Supreme Court for assaulting a civilian!! Do you, do you want to go to jail!! You bastard!!"

I laughed at his words.

Jail?

Good, right?

I'm the one who even considered going to jail to quit being a saint.

Do you think I'd be scared of such threats?

It's actually better!!

If I get life in prison, I won't have to pretend to be a saint anymore, so that's good.

Very good!!

"Send me! To jail!! Send me!! Fuck!!"

"Y-You crazy bastard!!... Agh!!"

"Yes! I'm crazy! I'm crazy, you son of a bitch!!"

It turns out people cry when they're extremely angry.

I continued to beat the bastard while crying my eyes out.

People died, turned into charcoal.

But this bastard, and that factory manager I beat to a pulp outside...

How could they be so devoid of remorse?

"I'm the crazy one in this temple!! You son of a bitch!!"

I'm going to make sure you're punished, even if it means I have to go to jail.

I'll pin some heresy charge or something on you and that factory manager and send you both to hell, for sure!

As I was thinking that and hitting the Baron even harder...

"Y-You fucker!! Aaaaagh!!"

Perhaps because the pain was so intense that he felt like he was dying, Baron Hanson, in a last-ditch effort, generated a black aura in his hand and threw it at me.

...Huh?

Wait a minute.

He generated a black aura in his hand and threw it at me?...

Isn't that a curse?

"...Huh? Why isn't the curse working?"

I was surprised that Baron Hanson had shot a curse from his hand, and Baron Hanson was surprised that I was fine even after being hit by the curse.

"Why? Why isn't the... curse...?"

We both stared at each other blankly for a moment.

"Were you a devil worshiper?"

I asked, bursting into laughter in absurdity, and Baron Hanson answered truthfully.

"Yes."

I'll say it again, just in case.

"I am a devil worshiper. I was helping the Collector gather resentment."

The power of Absolute Hypnosis was absolute.