Chapter 117
Chapter 117
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: Salvation to Those Who Believe (3)
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[Welcome to the Neofront Cybercity Bulletin Board.] 📰 Post — Anonymous (123.456) Title: Humanity <<< What the hell is this stat??? High-level players, help me out. Every time I get an implant procedure, I get a warning that my Humanity stat is too low, but the procedure still goes through just fine? Is this a bug? Anyway, what the hell does this stat even do??? 💬 Comments (8) — Anonymous Ignore it and you'll end up with Cybernetic Rage. — Anonymous Low Humanity means you sometimes go berserk mid-battle. Low chance your dialogue options turn you into a psycho. ↳ Reply Whoa, so how do you raise it? ↳↳ Reply Do good deed quests. — Anonymous In the game's lore, Cybernetic Rage isn't just from high body mod rates—it's also from mental trauma, emotional dryness, or lack of support networks... As you build bonds with companions or NPCs, your Humanity stat rises naturally. — Anonymous But dude, how low is your number for warnings to pop? Unless you're going full cyber-addict berserk build, main quest stats should carry you to the endgame easy. ↳ Reply Oh wait. ↳ Reply Early game I was broke so I grinded killing like a hundred street randos for cash... Was that it? ↳↳ Reply Are you insane? ↳↳ Reply [NotHuman con] 📰 Today's Column: Do You Know Your Neighbor's Name? A city teeming with countless souls packed in shoulder-to-shoulder: Omega Detroit. Skyscrapers piercing the heavens boast the pinnacle of human tech, but beneath those dazzling neon signs, the citizens' inner worlds are quietly crumbling. Where do the rampant mental illnesses and social ills plaguing this city come from? 'Self-Determination Theory,' which explores universal human happiness and motivation, posits that regardless of era or culture, three core psychological needs must be met for personal growth and well-being. The desire to choose and control one's own life: 'Autonomy.' The need to perform tasks effectively and feel competent: 'Competence.' And forming positive relationships with others while feeling a sense of belonging: 'Relatedness.' Only when these three are fulfilled can humans truly develop and find meaning in a healthy life. Viewing our society through this lens reveals just how emotionally barren this city's structure is. Consider autonomy and competence first. If you can't land a corporate job, survival itself is threatened. In a society without ladders for upward mobility, a free life is just a dream for the average citizen. Effort doesn't yield fair rewards; lives are consumed as cogs in a massive machine, stripping away even competence. For this city's people, all that's left as solace is relatedness. Family to protect, kids to hand a better future—these become the only reasons to endure grueling days when hope for ascent vanishes. But family is just a minimal fence as a community. Humans are social animals with an instinct to seek positive belonging in larger groups. Progressing toward common goals, consoling shared sorrows, sharing joys—these foster stability as society members. Yet in Omega Detroit, no community guarantees positive belonging to individuals. Schools? Excluding elite corporate academies, public education collapsed over a decade ago. Our kids never learn to form peer groups or social bonds from childhood. Neglected in their most crucial years, they grow into isolated adults unskilled at human connection. What about workplaces? Lifetime employment is a myth; most workers are disposable parts. Under performance pressure, colleagues are rivals, and anxiety over overnight replacement kills any sense of belonging. And neighbors? Do you know who's next door beyond noise complaints? In chicken-coop apartments with thousands of units, neighbors are just nearby strangers. Schools, jobs, neighbors—traditional communities collapsed, leaving perfect isolation. Souls adrift, unaware of who they are, why they live, or who to turn to for comfort, mass-produced. This unmet relatedness births Omega Detroit's depression, drug addiction, lonely deaths, motiveless crimes, mass shootings, Cybernetic Rage outbreaks—top-tier global rates of mental illness and suicide. The city is gravely ill. Its name: Isolation. A century ago, we believed tech would connect the world closer. Now it imprisons humanity behind invisible walls. Disappearance of community. No social safety net. Distrust of others escalates to lost chances even to meet. In history's densest city, we paradoxically feel unprecedented loneliness. —Omega Daily: Social Affairs Reporter Edward Ryan— Not far from the hospital stood the Radiance Church cathedral.
Leo, visiting the place, asked in bewilderment,
"Is that it? All done?"
The priest facing him replied gently.
"Yes, Brother Leo. You are now a provisional member of our church."
"Then, the hospital benefits..."
Before he could finish, the priest answered smoothly, as if routine.
"Medical priority benefits for registered donors apply equally to provisional and full members. And if you wish, you can cancel anytime—no need to worry."
With that, Leo too could now use Eleos Medical as a Radiance Church believer.
That ridiculously cheap medical service.
Omega Detroit's medical fees were inflated price tags, untethered from actual costs for insurance haggling. Without city price controls, hospitals set whatever they wanted.
Uninsured patients without leverage got hit with the full bomb, bankrupted by absurd bills.
Why citizens were leashed to ruthless insurers.
In contrast, Eleos Medical Center stuck to reasonable prices close to cost.
Half or less than other hospitals, accessible even to uninsured Leo.
Now with member discounts, the burden dropped further.
So Leo was still dazed.
He got the principle of cheapness: reduced hospital profits.
But the choice itself baffled him.
'Turning down money-making chances? Why?'
Healthcare was essential demand. Reasons to jack prices: hundreds.
Reasons to lower: none came to mind.
Thus, another hospital visitor like Leo couldn't hold back curiosity and asked the priest.
"Does the price go up after some time?"
The priest shook his head softly.
"No plans to raise donations anytime soon. And as I said... if you change your mind and want to relinquish membership, just stop donating whenever."
So joining now was pure gain.
Even if terms changed later, quitting donations meant no loss.
A nearby man hesitated before asking,
"Why does the church... do this kind of business?"
Everyone naturally perked up at the itch-scratching question.
The priest smiled and dropped an absurd line.
"It's not business. It's love."
"......"
"We do this because the Radiance cherishes you all like children. We're just sharing that love on His behalf."
Out-of-ordinary acts get out-of-ordinary answers, naturally.
The cathedral crowd was left stunned.
Surveying their blank faces, the priest added,
"Services are daily. Attend seven weeks straight for full baptism eligibility. Attendance isn't mandatory—just drop by when you can."
"......"
No matter how you sliced it, benefits outweighed zero constraints.
Curiosity struck Leo.
'Maybe attending services reveals the reason.'
Why the church took losses on this venture... he wanted to dig deeper.
So he visited on a holiday.
Of course, dragging here wasn't pure curiosity.
'Even if services are optional... who knows if they secretly track attendance.'
Better safe—go once or twice.
"This place..."
The chapel buzzed with far more people than expected.
They all felt oddly similar to him.
Hurting somewhere, treated, now sitting dazed.
Leo felt strange kinship.
"....."
Sitting and waiting briefly, a priest soon mounted the podium.
The service began—somewhat unlike expectations.
'Thought it'd demand blind faith for received grace.'
But the priest just explained the church, no pressure.
Just tales of how the Radiance loves us like children, so the church treasures each person—gentle heartwarming stuff.
Listening, Leo grasped the church professed goodwill toward others.
He was grateful for the help, after all.
'But believing in this Radiance... would it really change my life?'
Still doubtful.
"......."
Not fully grasping it, but nothing burdensome.
Might as well stay till the end.
But lounging in the warm chapel amid the priest's calm sermon, drowsiness crept in.
'Ugh, stay awake.'
Spotting himself nodding off, Leo scanned around to wake up.
His eyes met the woman beside him.
Reading his face, she smirked and spoke first.
"Bored?"
"Y-Yeah??"
Caught off-guard, he stammered; she laughed and added,
"It's fine. I was too at first."
She introduced herself.
"I'm Sindia."
"Uh... Leo."
Awkward silence, then Leo mustered courage.
"How'd you end up here, Sindia?"
Casual reply:
"Same as everyone. Eleos Medical, right?"
She hiked her pant leg, revealing a worn prosthetic below one knee.
"Got crushed by logistics gear years ago."
Her calm tone drew an unwitting apology from Leo.
"Oh... sorry."
"What for? You're the same."
"Huh?"
"That arm."
Leo glanced at his prosthetic.
Forced on by accident, worn and unrepaired—poverty's mark, sometimes shameful.
Yet now, no such feeling.
'Why?'
He realized: she was like him.
And everyone here bore similar wounds.
Conversations would share empathy.
Not imagination—Sindia was friendly too.
Chatting away, they bonded quick.
Post-service, casual now, she said,
"At first I wondered what this was all about. Still don't fully get the Radiance or whatever. But listening to folks here... it oddly calms the heart. Fourth time at this cathedral now."
True, as she said. This church differed from religions Leo knew.
No complex ancient scriptures, no elaborate worship rites.
Sermons comforted those present over god-talk.
Religion for believers, not deity.
Priests who listened to stories, not preached unilaterally.
And shared kin among attendees.
All eased Leo.
Sindia proposed,
"Met some friends here. Want intros?"
Leo nodded, entranced.
Those connections.
Bulky half-uncle type, jolly Aunt Michelle, quiet bro James, ever-gentle Priest Daniel.
They heard Leo's tale with thoughtful care unbelievable for first meetings.
And truly understood—sharing pains, injustices.
Even offered proactive help.
Warmth Leo had never known.
"......"
After the seventh service.
Leo gazed at his healed, pain-free arm from treatments.
Recalled the factory accident despair.
Earth-crushing hopelessness.
Painful, unjust—no one reached out.
Just coworkers' blank stares, boss's cold rebukes hounding him.
Flailing in death-like anguish, solving alone.
World-alone loneliness.
But here were his people.
This moment... finally something to lean on.
Post-seventh service, Leo rose, approached Priest Daniel.
And declared firmly,
"Father. I want full baptism as a member."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The priest's report.
"—So the cathedral acts as a sort of community for believers."
Hospital visitors didn't instantly gain true faith.
But they quickly bonded to the belonging of "believer" status.
The hospital business created gatherings; believers drew themselves in—not god, but them.
Thus the church infiltrated residents' lives at unimaginable speed.
Cathedrals now overflowed beyond plans with flocks.
Musing on the unexpected report, Yoanna beside me exclaimed first.
"As expected of you, sis! Honestly... the hospital venture seemed high-risk for the investment, but you foresaw all this and planned it?! Amazing!"
"...."
Her pure admiration left me speechless.
'No, I didn't predict this at all....'