He claimed to be a messenger of God, deceiving innocent followers and demanding sacrifices for merely breathing—sucking the life out of them.
Mate Daylight was that kind of person.
“Thirty gold coins in profit a day, huh? Hahaha! Splendid, Dalah!”
Tanned skin, a stylish pair of sunglasses, and not a single whisker on his shaved head—this was a man in his mid-twenties who had graduated from Lumere Academy.
Dishelt Bus.
While Mate used his silver tongue to deceive the followers, Dishelt played the role of driving home the message to the wavering ones.
Contrary to appearances, he was highly competent in various tasks such as accounting and report writing.
Eventually, his abilities were recognized, and he began working as an arms merchant under Muz Peafaird. Though his appearance seemed like that of an extra, he was a character who garnered significant attention and deserved a certain level of importance.
For instance, there were fan works featuring Mate Daylight and Dishelt Bus in a BL theme, though often received negatively.
I regained my senses while sitting on the sofa.
In my left hand was a report detailing the earnings of the past month, and in my right, a snack with chocolate cream smeared in the cracks.
A splendid white priest robe adorned my entire body, adorned with a golden-framed hood.
It seemed I had finally returned to that era.
This was one of the facilities of the Daylight Church, the office of the cult leader.
It also served as a resting space for the leader, perfectly embodying simplicity and balance in both its interior and size.
The timing was the same. Not a second different from when I first reincarnated into this body.
I flicked my blonde hair and handed the report to Dishelt, who was grinning widely.
“Check this out. You can handle it, right?”
“I just finished the settlement.”
“I’ll give you an extra ten percent. I’ve something urgent to do.”
“Hahaha, any time, that’s welcome.”
Dressed in a white tank top and jeans, Dishelt’s casual attire suited him well, making him appear friendly.
Dishelt pulled a pen from the pocket of his jeans and began to underline the report at rapid speed.
He was conducting a thorough review of any discrepancies between the report and our records.
I repeatedly took deep breaths in front of the office door.
Just repeating everything I’ve done before—starting from the beginning—will be fine.
Of course, if this situation doesn’t require my interference, I won’t hesitate, not even for a second. But…
If the original storyline unfolds without my interference, only one person chosen by Yuren will overcome their trauma and find salvation.
As for me, my role won’t change much from before, but I must avoid entwining deeply with the heroines.
I’ll stay as far as possible from all the heroines, resolve their traumas, and then pass all the credit to Yuren.
It’s not difficult at all! Given that I’ve led the previous plotlines, this should be manageable.
Things would be perfect as long as unnecessary variables don’t occur.
Still, what worries me the most is Shirai.
Not only did I reverse the future where she was chosen by Yuren, but I also caused her to become blind again.
While Yudit’s family matters and Muz’s revolution are also concerning, Shirai’s blindness should be addressed first.
Or, should I stop the corruption of Sia first?
Since Sia’s trauma can be resolved later, there’s time, but if any unexpected variable occurs, it would be a disaster.
Anyhow, there’s about a month left until Lumere Academy admissions.
It’s time to prepare the groundwork for the stage at the academy.
Creak—
The old door, emitting an eerie howl, opened, revealing the entirety of the expansive church.
The office was located behind the church stage, so it was inevitable that the congregation, in the midst of their prayers, would see me.
“The Church Master! The Master has come out to greet us in the name of God!”
“The Messenger of God watches over us!”
“First, believe. Believe, and you will be blessed.”
Three members of the congregation leaped to their feet and raised a clamor.
They were the ones Mate had hired for money as stooges.
If three people are enough to fool one, I believe the scale can reach beyond a single person.
“Grant me the fortune to live without worrying about money!”
“Please heal my daughter’s illness!”
“Grant me eternal life, immune to aging!”
Just like this moment.
Only three people, and they can stir up dozens, even hundreds. Just by exploiting the vulnerable parts of human nature.
There are those pressed by debt, parents who joined the church to cure their children’s terminal illnesses, and mortals who seek eternal life without aging among them.
“Hmph…”
The dizzying and unsettling spectacle makes my vision blur.
On schedule, in three days, the holy maiden Shirai from the Spera Sect will visit the church for an inspection.
If Shirai uncovers the truth that the Daylight Church is a false religion, it’ll be all over.
If I fail to get admitted to the academy, every scenario unravels.
‘A thorough preparation is necessary. Starting from now.’
I took deep breaths, headed toward the podium, and grabbed the microphone.
I never imagined I’d stand here again.
The dazzling stares of the believers, aimed at me, are hard to get used to no matter how many times I see them. They’re so burdensome.
And knowing that I’m deceiving these people makes me feel anything but cheerful.
But I must do it, for survival.
The groundwork for the church cleansing, in preparation for Shirai’s inspection.
“I will now conduct one-on-one consultations.”
Considering the grievances of our pitiful believers.
*
A one-on-one consultation with the church leader who believes himself to be the Messenger of God.
Even I would want to scream and cry out of injustice.
“Whaa… Whaaa…”
Should I call this man an uncle… or a young man?
It might sound odd, but the sight of this guy, wearing a short-sleeve shirt to display his bulky muscles, crying like a baby, was unpleasant.
“Please calm down. The Lord of Heaven doesn’t want to hear your weeping.”
The Daylight Church is far from being a small religious group, so naturally, it features a confessional room.
It’s of a peculiar size, somewhere between medium and large.
The esteemed Shirai wouldn’t waste her time for nothing.
“I’m so sorry! I couldn’t help it!”
His short hair barely covered his forehead, and his mustache and beard formed an amusing connection, giving off a middle-aged vibe. Yet, he’s approximately my age.
“Mr. Marcus, you are a homosexual, are you not?”
“What?! No, that’s not it! The popular Church Master might not know this, but there’s another gender—a male who resembles a female…”
“Enough.”
I didn’t want to hear anymore.
This is a place to resolve the anger of the believers, but sometimes their stories leave me baffled.
Just pretend to understand and excuse them. Like always.
“Would the generous Creator God understand my sexual preferences, that is all I inquire.”
The hand wiping his tears caught my attention.
Every digit on his fingers looked honed and strong. A punch from those meaty fists would likely send you straight to the other world.
“Mr. Marcus, who do you believe created you?”
“Huh? Of course, it was my parents…”
“Wrong. You were created by the Lord of Heaven.”
“That… that…”
Marcus, as if having a sudden epiphany, gasped with wide eyes, even covering his mouth with tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Relax. The compassionate Creator would never hate His creations.”
I patted Marcus on the shoulder. Those bulky muscles weren’t impressive; they were rather repelling.
He would have been very popular if he were just an ordinary man capable of average love. But alas, it’s quite regrettable.
“Mr. Marcus, I am the Messenger of God. I exist to convey the words of the great Lord of Heaven to those, like you, who earnestly seek them.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You are currently consumed by the feeling that you’re not understood, but you’re missing the bigger picture.”
I approached the sitting Marcus.
“Like a blind person.”
“…”
“Let me reiterate: the Lord of Heaven created Mr. Marcus.”
My role is done. Marcus isn’t a dumb guy; he just has an unusual sexual orientation.
“Why? Why me? There are so many people in this world.”
“The Lord of Heaven doesn’t offer His special grace to just anyone. In that sense, you, Mr. Marcus, are a chosen individual.”
“Like Shrine Maiden Shirai?”
“…”
I hesitated, prodded by my conscience.
“How could the Lord of Heaven, who ordained your sexual orientation by His own will, not understand it? I can even hear Him now.”
“What, what do you mean?”
“Blasphemy! How dare you doubt the great Lord of Heaven? Apparently, He’s telling me to make you leave the confessional within five seconds!”
“Y-Yike!”
Marcus fumbled in the pocket of his leather pants.
Eventually, a fistful of silver coins was handed over. His enormous hand made the coins look minuscule.
“May the Lord see my sincerity and absolve His anger…”
“Apparently, He’s forgiven you. You may go.”
“Thank you! I will never forget this day!”
Creak—
‘I wish you would.’
Marcus left the confessional, and the next follower entered.
Ah, this isn’t a follower.
If I remember correctly, Marcus was the second to last.
“You’re extorting money from followers again, you vile pseudo-leader.”
The blonde girl with crimson eyes standing before me.
“Jule.”
“Don’t say my name with that disgusting mouth of yours.”
She will be found dead at her home tomorrow morning.
The cause of death will be fire-induced asphyxiation.
Anyway, if she knows I’m a false prophet, there’s no need for me to maintain this facade anymore.
“It’s still cold outside. Close the door and come in.”
“Don’t give orders. I didn’t want to come here—my mom made me.”
I have only a few hours to persuade someone who detests and distrusts me.
Including the events from the previous cycle, this would be the most challenging consultation yet.
