Humiliation (3)

After getting teabagged by Porori on top of everything else, I finally made up my mind. First things first—regain my language as quickly as possible. Even if I hated the idea, I needed to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠start conversing with the gods.

But to have a direct chat with them, I'd have to max out my Faith stat. Otherwise, my only option was trekking to a temple myself. The problem? Those temples were in other countries. For now, my best bet was heading to a church and praying. Or offering tributes every day like Porori had.

But is Faith really what's messing with my speech? Porori became a spirit beast after 100 days of offerings. Meanwhile, I'd lost my language entirely—and I'd spent every day cursing at the heavens. It was a plausible theory, at least.

Why does Soul World reflect reality in the weirdest ways? Faith worked a lot like magic. Speak the words, and you'd get a buff. You could even macro it for some fun tricks. Normally, buffing someone required a long incantation. But the higher your Faith, the shorter it got—and toss in a macro, and you'd get insane results.

"Water." Wasn't that the one-word prayer for hydration? I'd seen memes fusing it with that legendary clip. The gods clearly placed huge importance on language. Made perfect sense now.

Fine. Let's get the talking part sorted first.

Porori couldn't even read, by the way. He could only speak. The bastard was illiterate. Not that I blamed him—this world's script was a nightmare, especially the common tongue. If that was brutal, the other languages had to be hell.

I'd visit the church this weekend and pray then. Plenty of questions, but those would have to wait for a temple.

Or should I convert to Gulaak worship? Church prayers went to the goddess of life, Gaia. Daily tributes like Porori's were for the god of destruction, Gulaak. The god of chaos, Chaos, lived up to the name with finicky conditions.

"Fun" on its terms, and it'd shower you with blessings.

But that "fun" was all subjective. Anyone but Chaos. Getting tangled with that one just cranked up life's difficulty—and it loved pulling troll stunts. Like I'd said before: need a heal? Buff instead. Need a buff? Heal. It played serious when it wanted, but you'd usually rage-quit from the stress first.

"......"

A barrage of random thoughts kept sleep at bay tonight. I sat up slowly in bed and gazed out the window. The night sky glittered with countless stars, the moonlight so bright it felt almost daytime. My eyes were sharp, too.

Knock knock knock.

I was lost in the view when a tapping came—not from the bedroom door, but the window glass. Focusing, I spotted a familiar silhouette.

Porori. The jerk who'd tormented me until I left. Rage bubbled up at the sight, but curiosity hit first. Why show up in the dead of night? Not just to mess with me—he had a purpose.

I slid out of bed and opened the window. He scampered inside like it was nothing. It was 2 a.m.; everyone else was deep asleep, including Lord Sherman. Porori and I, with our wild instincts, rarely slept soundly anyway. Didn't feel tired, though.

"Fuck?" I grunted at him, asking why he was here.

He hopped onto my bed, crossed his legs like a monk, and got serious. "Heard from the girl. You saved my life, huh?"

"......"

He'd gotten the full story, apparently. I stayed silent. No need to brag—it wasn't a fair fight. Without Ellie, we'd both be dead. That's why I'd begged her to spare him. I hated draws like that.

"Won't say thanks. If it'd ended that way, I'd have haunted your ass forever."

Classic Porori. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smirked, quirking one corner of my mouth. Still a dick. Expectations were zero.

"Anyway, that's all I had to say..." He scratched his head sheepishly with a front paw. "From now on, leave the translating to me."

"Fuck?"

One eyebrow shot up. What the hell?

He'd anticipated it and launched into a smooth explanation. "Translating only works when I'm with you, right? The girl said I can't let on that I'm a spirit beast."

"......"

"So when I'm around, this noble body will graciously translate for you. Got it?"

"......Fuck."

Hurt my pride. As I grumbled, he pointed it out. "You caused a misunderstanding today 'cause you couldn't talk. Gonna keep that up? Who knows when you'll speak properly."

"Fuck."

"As if it'll be soon. I heard you cursing the sky in the forest. What's your beef with the heavens anyway?"

Put yourself in my shoes. Wouldn't you curse? Starting in a city instead of the woods would've been different. I'd have adapted, focused on surviving day-to-day. Figured out why later. But no—the forest, humiliation by Porori, wolf bites... How could I not swear? Explaining wouldn't help; it'd just piss me off more.

"You're a killer hunter, so pray 100 days like me. Might get Thunder."

"......"

"What're you staring at, punk? Planning to sacrifice me?"

Busted. Honestly, he was perfect—spirit beast with killer power.

"Sigh. Tried to help, and this is the thanks I get? Animals, man."

"Fuck."

Says the animal. As I shot back, he tsked and wagged a paw judgmentally. Then he crossed his tiny arms smugly and dropped something intriguing.

"Hey, you know? Even if you learn to talk, they'll still treat you like a beast."

"Fuck?"

"Think about it—those blood-red eyes of yours."

I touched near my eyes. Crimson meant Berserk monsters. I had the trait too. It made you lose reason and rampage. Tenacity maxed out reduced it, but it'd triggered against Porori.

"Talk all you want; you're still a beast. Especially if you go berserk. Fix that shitty temper after speech."

"Fuck?"

"Why ask me? I'm a squirrel—no Berserk."

Huh. How did he get so strong? In the game, he was kill-or-nothing; no pet option. His habitat had acorns, but no backstory.

"Fuck."

"How'd I power up? Guess killing that giant bird chick? Realized I could get strong. Survived after that, and here I am."

Similar to me—nearly died to wolves, scraped by on wits. True predator strength, maybe. Mine was half-forced, though.

"Anyway, here."

Mid-thought, he offered something: a glowing blue herb. How'd he hide it in that tiny body?

"Pray to the sky now. This is rare stuff. Sniff it—you'll know."

"......"

Skeptical at first, I took it. Didn't seem like a prank. The scent hit: sharp and sweetly pungent. My eyes widened. This was hard to find.

"Not 'cause you saved me. I'll kill you later and shit on your face—remember that."

"......Fuck."

Sure you will. I chuckled, inspecting it closely. Fresh-picked; dirt on the roots, chilled by night air. Blue Cornflower. Unlike common Silver Cornflower, it bloomed only at night. Detox and mana boost. Ellie could brew top-tier potions with it later.

"I gave acorns. Think this'll work for you? Wrong god?"

"......"

I knew. Offerings for Faith were Gulaak's domain—hunts or herbs. Stronger prey or rarer herbs gave bigger gains. Blue Cornflower was B+ grade; solid boost potential.

Ask Kara for an altar? Needed one for tributes. Only she knew how. Couldn't build in-game; required help.

Did this punk make his own?

I stared. He shrugged. "Prayed by my acorn tree-storage. Stuffed 'em in, prayed—poof, gone."

Altar optional if sincere? Made sense. Gods already watched me anyway. "Interest" my ass—marked for life.

Whatever. Language first to dodge the savage label. Porori helping? No reason to refuse.

I nodded thanks. He scratched his cheek, mumbling. "Weird getting thanks from you. Used to be fight on sight."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, no more fights probably. I'm out."

He scampered out the open window—nimble, flexible. Squirrel through and through.

I closed it, lay back, and eyed the Blue Cornflower.

Give a wound, give a salve. Probably felt bad for the savage roasting today. In the forest, he'd have cackled. Civilization sparked a conscience, it seemed. Me? Still speechless. Couldn't accept being worse than a squirrel.

Right. Sincerity's key.

I bolted up, prepping the offering. Tidied the bed—sheets smooth, pillows gone. Placed the herb neatly in the center. Setup done.

Watching me close enough for status screens. This'll do.

Stepped back two paces, knelt, clasped hands, and prayed desperately.

What was it... Right. Destroyer of all, Lord of Thunder, Gulaak. I offer this tribute—grant me power.

Recalled the Soul World ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠prayer from Tatar memory. They worshipped Gulaak.

More prayer? Apologized for sky-cursing. Begged for language. One offering wouldn't fix it—planned regular hunts like Porori. Kara's help too.

Please hear my prayer.

I opened my eyes slowly. The herb sat unchanged, dashing my hopes.

"Fuck."

Damn it. Of course. Marked too deep—no response. Expected it, but still disappointing.

Why no message, though? Insult ones pop fine.

Church this weekend? Had business there, but awkward. "That act" would get me banned for sure. Game rules.

Give to Lord then.

Grabbed the intact Blue Cornflower—great detox for him. Looking for storage, I scanned around.

"......"

"......"

Caught Lord Sherman peeking through the cracked door. How'd he wake? Age catching up mid-sleep? His wide eyes said he'd seen everything—my herb fiasco.

Embarrassing enough to die. Should've waited till morning. Too hasty.

I stared endlessly in the suffocating vibe. He hesitated in the awkward air.

And why do you pop up now?

I muttered hollowly at the message.

"......Fuck."

That one word.

"......A swear?" Lord Sherman mumbled uncertainly.

Oh right—my words came out in this world's tongue, not Korean. But why Faith now? No clue.

"Did you... just swear?"

Handle the situation first. Explain everything.

"Words. Long."

Meaning: too long to explain. From Porori's visit to the offering. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lord looked more confused, rubbing sleepy eyes.

I pondered Gulaak deliberately delaying my Faith.

This bastard doing it on purpose?

Destruction god? Felt like Chaos...

Wait.

"......Fuck."

I muttered softly. Knew who the troll was now.

Lord pinched his nose bridge wearily. "Say it again. What?"

"Fuck."

Same juicy swear. He nodded, like thought so. "Must've misheard. You can't talk."

"......"

"Quit the weird stuff and sleep. Rest is key."

Door shut after the advice. I stood frozen, clutching the Blue Cornflower. Useless as an offering.

In Soul World, you could switch gods anytime.

Gaia to Gulaak, no issue. Multiple Faith methods. Unless you picked Chaos. Then it was all-in—no switching. Chaos interfered.

Conditions fit "Chaos"—potential outstripped others.

To raise Faith with Chaos... Spark its interest or "fun." Random as hell—even pros couldn't crack it.

Meaning it could toy with my Faith freely, like just now.

Thud—I flopped onto the bed realizing it watched me. Explained the drops from inner curses. Gaia and Gulaak didn't deduct without cause. Should've noticed sooner—forest hell blinded me.

......Have some conscience and boost my Faith.

Chaos flipped me off instead. Felt like "Yeah, fuck off." No direct talk possible—only this.

......Who're you even messing with?

Lucky it was just pranks; basically benevolent. Otherwise demon-side. Betting on potential for now. Forest stat explosion probably its doing too.

"Haa."

I sighed at the complicated road ahead. Outsource translating to Porori. Half-abandon Faith—Chaos's whims unknowable. Stats were generous, though; trust that.

I'll show you. Language without Faith.

Next day, resolve made.

"The soy sauce factory boss is Manager Kang, and the miso factory boss is Manager Kang."

"......"

"How's that? Impressive, right? Believe in the sky, friend—you can do it."

Teabagged again. Worse: not even to screw me. Depressing.

Still.

"Yeah."

"Whoa, you can talk?"

"Ah."

"Nope."

Not nothing gained.