This Wasn’t an Erotic Game?

Chapter 40 - Medal of Honor

『 Translator – Divinity 』

It hadn't been even ten minutes since I had beaten the Collector to death with my belt when the battle priests and paladins of the White Church and the investigators from the Black Fortress, the Emperor's direct intelligence agency, arrived at the scene.

"It was all for my personal gain! She approached me, a mere bastard son of a Baron with no prospects, and asked if I would believe in the Evil God! She said if I believed in the Evil God, power and money would all be mine! I thought, what's there to lose, and agreed! Then, one morning, my father and brother were found dead without a trace! And so I inherited the Barony!"

"You sing like a canary! Yes! Tell me more! We'll add more firewood to the pile beneath your feet!!"

"Uwaaagh!! Please spare me! Please spare me!! I knew this would happen if I was caught, but I couldn't stop!! Who in their right mind would refuse when they get what they want!! I don't care about those factory workers who burned to death!! Whether those beggars die or not...! Agh!!"

"The Silent Church of the Pantheon and the investigators of the Black Fortress will take good care of you. I'll make you wish you were never born!!"

"Aaaaagh!! P-Please!!"

Baron Hanson was dragged away, screaming his last.

The fat factory manager followed him.

"N-No! I don't know anything!! Baron Hanson was a devil worshiper? I-I didn't know! I didn't know! Please have mercy!!"

"If you had ever argued with Baron Hanson, or even complained about him over drinks, we wouldn't be doing this. But after just ten minutes of investigation, testimonies poured in about how passionately you followed him. You passionately followed his lead even though you're not a devil worshiper? Your mental state is highly questionable."

"Aaaaagh! Please!! Please!! Saint!!"

The factory manager reached out to me.

I gave him a refreshing smile.

"He might not be a devil worshiper, but his mental state is no different. Make sure to burn him at the stake alongside the Baron."

"N-No!! Aaaaagh, please! Have mercy!! Have mercy!!"

There's no mercy for you, you bastard.

After the Baron and the factory manager were dragged away, squawking, I could finally relax.

I was exhausted from using up so much mental energy.

What a commotion in the middle of the night.

I should quickly go back and get some rest...

"Saint Amael."

"Healing Saint."

"Master Amael, Master Amael."

A large crowd had gathered at the main gate of Baron Hanson's mansion.

Their eyes were filled with awe.

Amazed gazes.

Tearful eyes.

Some were even kneeling.

"Thank you."

A bereaved mother...

The woman who had been clutching the charred corpse and sobbing in front of the factory just moments ago stepped forward, carefully took my hand, and bowed her head.

I could feel teardrops falling onto the ground.

And it wasn't just her.

Dozens of poor and sick people approached me, trying to touch me.

They grabbed my legs, my hands, my arms and shoulders, my waist and sides, their faces filled with the desire to receive some kind of miraculous energy.

I didn't feel uncomfortable.

"What do you think you're doing! Get away from the Saint..."

The police officers rushed over and tried to stop the people, but I raised my hand and stopped them.

These were people...

Whom I wouldn't be able to see soon anyway.

I had to help them as much as possible while I was still here.

Just as I was about to raise my hand to heal the sick...

"Why is life so hard?!"

The bereaved mother, still holding my hand, cried out in a heartbreaking voice.

"Why did my daughter have to die at the hands of such cruel people! Is this also the will of the Goddess? Then it's too cruel. Why doesn't suffering ever disappear from life, Saint..."

The mother, collapsed on the ground, sobbed uncontrollably, asking those questions.

Everyone became solemn.

And they looked at me.

They seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

I looked around at the people.

Their thin bodies, malnourished.

Their tired faces.

Their rough skin, injured and worn.

People with hollow eyes were looking at me with hope.

I couldn't reject their gazes.

What did it matter if I was impersonating a saint?

What did it matter if I was a fake?

Couldn't I at least comfort these people who seemed to be struggling so much?

This difficult world…

If I can offer some comfort in this shitty world...

I can play the fake saint for a bit, even though I'm hated by the Goddess Lilia.

Jesus.

I'm sorry.

I'll plagiarize again this time.

I climbed onto the roof of the car that the factory manager had used to bring me here.

Naturally, everyone's attention was focused on me.

I raised my hand.

And I spoke.

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."

─ 𓆩♱𓆪 ─

An era where children labor.

An era where a 3-year-old child, instead of playing joyfully, is used as a tool for capitalists and entrepreneurs to make money.

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”

In an age where workers are discarded and replaced when their fingers are severed, their limbs twisted, their bodies injured and broken.

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled."

In an era where young girls with faces disfigured by burns and chemical poisoning sleep clinging to rotting ropes.

"Blessed are those whose hearts are not twisted, for they will witness the grace of the Goddess."

In an era where entrepreneurs toured the slums, naturally thinking, "How can those people be so vulgar and foolish? Aren't they a different species altogether, despite their similar appearance?"

I was proclaiming that the most tormented and suffering were the blessed ones.

"Blessed are those who are weary of a purposeless life, for they shall find reason to live. Humans cannot create that. Only the Goddess can. The greatest grace she will bestow upon you is peace of mind."

I even used the Goddess a bit.

Since I'm going to Korea anyway.

I shamelessly used her name.

"Today, a tragic event occurred. You have lost someone, and you are miserable, despairing, and frustrated. But even so, you are alive. Those who have departed are no longer with you. They will now be guided by the hands of the Goddess, not humans."

I looked at the mother who had lost her child.

"What was your daughter's name?"

"Ellie. It was Ellie, Saint."

"Remember Ellie. Remember everything about her, what she wore, what she said, how she laughed."

The mother started to sob again.

"I remember, Saint. I remember. So vividly... so vividly..."

"Now, imagine her resting peacefully in the arms of the Goddess. Imagine her smiling, finding peace in a world without pain or sorrow."

Sounds of wailing erupted from all around.

"Is Ellie in heaven? Did the Goddess of Grace take pity on her?"

The mother asked, tears streaming down her face.

I don't know.

How would I know?

I've never spoken a word to the Goddess.

So I lied.

"Surely she is. Because the Goddess would never abandon those who are suffering, weary, and in pain."

I was trying to tell these people to keep living.

But explaining the reasons to live to those deep in sorrow would take a long time, and it would be difficult to comfort their wounded hearts.

So I used religion.

Something only religion could do...

I comforted them with the power of religion.

"Ellie must be resting in the arms of the Goddess. Everyone who died today must be too. They must all be resting peacefully with Ellie in a place without suffering or sorrow. So please stop grieving."

The mother collapsed.

I slowly climbed down from the car roof and approached her.

I embraced her.

"Ellie is at peace now. So now, focus on finding your own peace. Cry when you're sad, and laugh when you're happy. You have to eat well, sleep well, and try to be happy. You have to live your life. That's what remains for you now."

"Saint!!"

I held the woman in my arms and let her cry until she had released all her emotions.

Countless people watched her tears and cried along.

"Damn it, the dust is... fuck..."

Some of the police officers who had come to control the scene even took off their hats and wiped away their tears.

I let them all cry.

And I did what I could.

I healed those who were injured among the people gathered before me.

"Master Yodel."

"Yes, Saint."

I made a request to Yodel, who had been standing silently beside me since before I started preaching from the car roof.

"Please pay compensation to all those who lost their families in the factory fire today. Enough to offer some comfort. Material wealth may not completely erase emotional pain, but it can at least alleviate it. Please do so in the name of Grace."

"As you command. I will inform Jonathan Karma."

Yodel, his eyes filled with tears, bowed respectfully.

I smiled bitterly.

I'm sorry, Grandpa Yodel.

I'm a fraud.

I'll be cursed and go back to Korea soon.

But please don't forget what I said.

They're pitiful.

If we have the ability to help, we should.

Seeing me trudging back to the Magic Tower Temple, exhausted, the countless factory workers who had listened to my sermon followed behind me.

Like a pilgrimage, they slowly walked behind me.

Glancing back, I saw them all silently following, tears streaming down their faces.

It looked like a struggle to process their grief and let go of those who had departed.

This was a funeral.

How could I tell them to leave after seeing them like this?

I continued walking, with them trailing behind me.

Until we reached the Magic Tower Temple...

They followed me, step by step.

─ 𓆩♱𓆪 ─

The influence of the title "Saint" was truly great.

Jonathan Karma didn't just stop at paying compensation.

"You have two choices. Improve the treatment of your workers to the level of the three slum districts and receive the elixir needed for factory operation at a low price from Karma Company. Or face a lengthy trial at the Pantheon on charges of abusing workers to gather resentment for the Evil God. Which will you choose?"

Jonathan Karma was smiling when he met with the owners of the factories on the outskirts of the capital.

But I heard that the priests and paladins standing beside him had faces like twisted Mozgus from hell.

As a result, all the factories on the outskirts of the capital accepted Jonathan Karma's terms.

"A devil worshiper emerged from the Baron family? What a disgrace!!"

His Majesty the Emperor was also enraged.

As a result, Baron Hanson was stripped of his title at lightning speed and burned at the stake in front of everyone.

All the workers in the capital felt a sense of relief hearing his screams, or so I heard.

─ 𓆩♱𓆪 ─

"The Collector is dead."

"Dead?"

"She was one of the most powerful in the Church, besides the chosen one. How could such a being die so easily?"

"They say the Healing Saint himself uncovered her hideout. She was killed by his hand."

Everyone in the room fell silent.

Fear.

The Collector's dwelling must have been thoroughly protected by the Miracle of Concealment.

How did he find it??

He must have the ability to see through the Miracle of Concealment.

There was no other explanation.

And naturally...

One conclusion came to everyone's minds.

"The chosen one is in danger."

"There's a high possibility that the One with a Thousand Faces will also be discovered soon."

"Since the Saint is frequenting the detached palace where Princess Iomene is, he will eventually find out. He will realize the chosen one's true identity."

"We need to come up with a countermeasure."

Various opinions were exchanged, but there was no clear solution.

The Healing Saint.

A massive obstacle that suddenly appeared and was ruining all their plans.

He wasn't like any enemy they had faced before.

It was clear that he was trying to destroy the Evil God's Church with all sorts of unbelievable abilities and his uncanny detection skills.

How could they deal with him?

They had no information about him, while he seemed to know them all too well, so they couldn't come up with a plan.

"We cannot risk further exposure of the chosen one. We will move up the schedule. Awaken the fragment of the Evil God implanted in Princess Iomene."

"If we do that, the fragment's power will be significantly weaker than originally planned."

"Moreover, the fragment will become extremely unstable. There's a high chance it will shatter from even the slightest shock."

"Even so, this is the best option we have for now. We must prevent the chosen one from clashing with the Saint."

An opposing opinion emerged.

"The chosen one has been chosen by the Evil God and possesses multiple lives. Even if he dies, he will not be completely destroyed."

"Your point being?"

"I believe we should continue to support the growth of the fragment by keeping the chosen one near it, even if it means risking his death at the hands of the Saint. Remember the sacrifices we made to obtain the fragment of the Evil God. If we awaken it prematurely and fail, it will be a tremendous loss."

"The Saint of the Grace Church is still an unknown entity."

The Saint of the White Church…

The Saintess of the Sun Church.

The Saint of the Silent Church.

And so on.

The Church of the Evil God knew very well what powers the saints and saintesses of most churches possessed.

But the Saint of the Grace Church was a first.

The first ever to appear.

There couldn't be any information about him.

"What if the Healing Saint can destroy all the multiple lives of the chosen one simultaneously? Furthermore, according to the chosen one's report, he seems to be trying to transfer the fragment of the Evil God into his own body. Doesn't that mean he has a way to deal with the fragment of the Evil God?"

If they weren't careful, they could easily lose both the chosen one and the fragment of the Evil God.

When everyone reached this conclusion, no one argued against it.

The decision was made.

"The fragment will be severely unstable because we're pushing the schedule forward. Its power will also be much weaker than we planned. But even so, we have no choice but to do this."

Everyone fell silent.

It was an agreement.

"For... the Blood Drinker."

A feeble cheer was raised, and then...

The candle was extinguished.

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TL/N: This chapter got me quite emotional. Sigh, despite all the comedy and light moments it has, this series is sure dark. 😔