Chapter 3

When the morning meal at the orphanage ends, the older children go outside, leaving only the younger ones behind.

The children who go out work to earn money until dinner time.

The support funds from the government or organizations are far from enough to run the orphanage.

Even if the children earn money, it’s not much, but at least it saves on lunch expenses.

That alone barely keeps the orphanage afloat.

“May the children return safely today as well.”

The orphanage director bowed her head in prayer toward the cross.

After her prayer, she took care of the young children who remained in the orphanage.

Even though she cared for them, teaching them letters and common sense, the rest of the time was spent letting them play inside the orphanage.

Watching the children play in the playground, she thought of the children who had gone outside.

She sent them out to earn money by running errands, but less than half actually did so.

Most ended up going down the wrong path.

Gangs, scavengers, boy mercenaries…

Teenagers full of vigor often found holding guns cool and ended up going down that path.

Aside from looking cool, it also earned them more money than running errands.

Even in this batch, some children joined gangs.

– “What’s this tattoo all of a sudden?”

– “Oh, Sister. It’s… just for fun.”

Still, most had a conscience and hid or downplayed their tattoos to avoid worrying the nuns.

But their attempts were mostly meaningless.

Having run this orphanage for years, she knew which gangs had which tattoos and where they were placed.

Yet, she pretended not to notice.

She loved the children and knew how dangerous gangs were.

She also knew the sorrow of meeting a graduate of the orphanage at a funeral.

But there was nothing she could do.

The orphanage remained a neutral safe zone in the slums because children from here joined various gangs.

Some even became gang executives, so gunplay was banned near the orphanage.

In other words, gangs were a necessary evil for the orphanage.

‘Thinking about it, even in such a place, those children grew up so well…’

But even in the mud, flowers can bloom.

Some children grew up well without going down the wrong path, just like ordinary peers.

Amon and Sonia.

Those children never lost their goodness despite the environment.

One muddy fish can dirty the water.

But conversely, one lotus blooming in muddy water can purify it.

The murkier the water, the more the lotus shines.

They were such lotuses.

Thanks to them, this batch had fewer children going down the wrong path compared to previous ones.

A few years ago, children who joined gangs would recruit others, creating a vicious cycle.

But this batch didn’t openly promote gangs.

The director was truly grateful for the two lotus-like children.

It felt as if God had sent them, allowing her to dream of a better future.

At the same time, she felt regretful.

Their talents were like gems.

So brilliant that even mud couldn’t cover them.

If only they had met good parents, they could have showcased their talents in a wider world.

‘Am I holding them back by keeping them here…’

Listing their talents would be endless.

Looks rivaling child actors, excellent athletic abilities, sharp minds.

But among all these talents, what made them special was their divine power.

Divine power was a rare ability, appearing in one in tens of thousands.

While most people were born with magic power, divine power was different.

Magic could be replicated or replaced, but the miracles created by divine power were irreplaceable.

Thus, those with divine power were highly sought after by corporations, governments, and religions.

The director realized their divine power when they were nine, during an incident.

A fight broke out among the children over something trivial.

Amon, trying to stop the fight, revealed his divine power.

– “You shouldn’t fight with friends. Violence is only for heretics, beasts, and monsters.”

Amon subdued his friends with unsettling words.

Even among those with natural strength like orcs or beastmen, Amon easily overpowered them.

The director, though not well-versed in divine power, was certain of its overwhelming presence.

That day, the orphanage was turned upside down.

Later, Sonia’s divine power was discovered in a similar manner, and the orphanage was shaken again.

Two divine power holders in one orphanage.

Thus, this batch was called the blessed generation, and the director raised a toast.

But the joy didn’t last long.

Divine power was coveted by all, but only a few could possess it.

Many corporations would destroy what they couldn’t have.

This realization set off alarm bells in the director’s mind.

Fortunately, only she recognized their divine power at the time.

As long as she kept quiet, they were safe.

‘Though corporations and governments aren’t to be underestimated…’

But there are no perfect secrets in this world.

Sonia’s divine power was manageable within the orphanage, but Amon’s overwhelming power was too intense to hide.

As a result, corporate employees and government officials began visiting the orphanage, bringing donations and support funds.

Their intentions were clear.

But the director played dumb.

Even if someone probed,

– “By the way… do you happen to know how to detect divine power?”

– “No, not at all.”

She feigned ignorance.

Despite numerous leading questions, she gave no reaction.

As a result, organizations couldn’t get more information than the fact that the orphanage had divine power holders.

In this precarious standoff, organizations couldn’t cut off support, and the orphanage gradually prospered.

So far, it was good for everyone.

But as the orphanage prospered, the director’s heart tightened.

‘Am I holding back their wings?’

To deceive the enemy, first deceive your allies.

For secrecy, she only vaguely mentioned to the children that they had special powers, thoroughly hiding their divine power.

She had no intention of monopolizing them.

It was solely for their protection.

A choice made out of love for them.

But even if it was for their sake, she always lived with guilt, feeling as if she was suppressing their talents.

Today, too, she leaned on her prosthetic arm, bowed her head, and closed her eyes to ease her guilt.

“Lord, please let my child return safely today.”

No finger is without pain.

But as humans, some fingers hurt more.

Thus, the director offered a more special prayer for that aching finger.

Even knowing other children might feel slighted.

***

On the way back after finishing an errand for Johnson, the goat beastman.

Another uneventful day.

Avoiding gunfire from somewhere, moving goods, and the delivery was done.

Ding dong!

Amon and Sonia’s phones buzzed.

$75 had been deposited into each of their accounts.

$75 for 8 hours of work.

It was below the minimum wage for delivery workers.

But they didn’t complain.

Sonia and Amon were pure humans, without genetic enhancements, nanomachines, or magic engravings.

Comparing their labor to professional delivery workers was heartless.

Moreover, they weren’t in urgent need of money.

In fact, $75 was a lot for the orphanage.

Combined with their monthly allowance, they could save enough for small luxuries.

Thus, satisfied with today’s earnings, they headed home.

Amid the usual sounds of gunfire and police cars rushing by, Amon and Sonia crossed the street, swinging bags of potato fries for their siblings.

While Amon checked for reckless bikers, Sonia spoke up.

“Amon. Are you going to tithe that too?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Blessed with looks and talent, Amon didn’t want to be ungrateful.

Sonia nodded at his answer.

“Can I tithe too?”

“Of course. Why not?”

“But those kids tease us, calling us fools for tithing.”

“Ah, those kids?”

Amon recalled the “those kids” Sonia mentioned.

They were the typical bad crowd.

You know the type.

Those who prefer fists over words, mischief over good deeds, and curses over kind words.

They blamed the world for their twisted ways and bullied the good kids.

Amon wasn’t on good terms with them.

They had picked a fight with him and got beaten up.

Since then, they avoided direct confrontation but tried to isolate Amon.

Though his shining personality made that strategy ineffective.

Teasing Sonia was part of that.

Calling tithing foolish to label Amon as a fool.

But Amon didn’t care.

Instead, he convinced Sonia of the value of tithing.

“Tithing is like a ritual to remember gratitude.”

“Gratitude?”

“Yeah. Gratitude for being blessed, for safely passing the day, for meeting good people like you. It’s to keep that feeling.”

He didn’t forget to add that tithing wasn’t forced but should come from the heart.

Sonia was quickly convinced by Amon’s gentle explanation.

“Then I should tithe too, to remember my gratitude for meeting you?”

“If you truly want to.”

By now, the existence of “those kids” had long faded from Sonia’s mind.

Their conversation naturally shifted to daily gratitude.

Gratitude for growing up in an orphanage despite being orphans.

Gratitude for the director who devoted herself to them.

Gratitude for adults like Johnson who gave them errands and pocket money.

Looking back, there was much to be grateful for even in this messed-up world.

“And I’m grateful to you for letting me eat a lot of meat!”

Amon awkwardly turned his head at Sonia’s words.

If that were true, he might have a 30% stake in her chest—

Putting aside such crazy thoughts.

Amon agreed with her.

As they talked, they almost reached the orphanage.

Excited about dinner, Sonia ran ahead, and Amon followed.

But at the last corner before the orphanage, they were blocked.

‘Speak of the devil.’

Those kids.

A group of delinquent teenagers with sloppy clothes and mean looks.

In short, bullies.

Seeing them, Amon often wondered how this feud started.

It wasn’t complicated.

They hit puberty early, mistook it for talent, became bullies, picked on Amon, got beaten, and held a grudge.

That was it.

Since then, they tried to mess with Amon whenever they could.

Most attempts ended meaninglessly, so Amon didn’t care.

Amon stood indifferently, waiting to see what they had planned this time.

Jimmy, the leader, finally got to the point after Amon’s indifference.

“Hey, punk. Do you know what this is?”

He took off his shirt.

A white snake tattoo.

The mark of the “Children of the Snake” gang.

A fairly large gang in the city.

Jimmy waited for Amon’s reaction.

Would he panic and blurt something out?

Or act tough despite being scared?

But Amon’s reaction was unexpected.

“Ah. Must’ve been tough filling the numbers. Work hard starting tomorrow.”

He didn’t care.

Jimmy wanted to retort but couldn’t because of Amon’s mention of “filling the numbers.”

The white snake tattoo was temporary, given to recruits filling the gang’s numbers.

Amon mentioning it meant he knew the gang’s structure well.

In fact, Amon did know.

‘How is a 50-year-old tradition still going?’

There was a side quest where you had to distinguish between executives, regular members, and number fillers.

Dealing with regular members was fine, but carelessly handling number fillers could trigger linked quests, requiring careful control.

…Amon preferred knocking them all out with a bat.

Anyway, Amon wasn’t intimidated by Jimmy’s tattoo.

There was no reason to be.

The tattoo could be wiped off with saliva, so no need to fear.

“Sonia, let’s go.”

Amon walked past the bullies, holding bags of potato fries.

The bullies tried to block him, but—

“Uh-oh? This is your siblings’ snack. You sure you want to mess with it?”

Food was a universal language.

The bullies, who hadn’t worked much lately due to joining the gang, had no money and barely ate lunch.

The temptation of potato fries was too strong.

Plus, you pick your battles.

If the fries fell and became inedible, they’d be cursed in every language by the orphanage kids and nuns.

Just imagining it made them full.

They had no choice but to let Amon and Sonia pass.

It wasn’t hunger that made them yield.

Pfft.

Finding them cute, Amon gave them a bag to snack on before dinner.

Amon’s interference broke the group.

Their loyalty to Jimmy wasn’t worth a bag of fries.

“Eat up for dinner. Clean up and come in quietly.”

With that, Amon and Sonia headed to the orphanage.

Jimmy’s friends urged him to join them.

Jimmy wanted to throw the bag and yell about pride, but he’d lose his few friends.

Instead, he squeezed his remaining pride and said he wasn’t hungry.

Jimmy turned his gaze to where Amon had gone.

‘That orphan brat gave me food?’

Resenting Amon, Jimmy gritted his teeth.

Today, too, was Amon’s victory.

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