Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Sinners (1)
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Omega Detroit had been designed as a planned city.
As such, unlike the haphazard suburbs formed by influxes of migrants from surrounding areas, the city center took on a distinctly orderly shape.
If one viewed the city as a massive circle, its very heart was the [Central Core], home to the headquarters of Omega International—the city's creator and the top player in the corporate hierarchy.
Surrounding this core were five enormous concentric rings, known as the [Circles].
The innermost Alpha Circle housed the headquarters of the top 100 corporations, while the next Beta Circle was occupied by mid-tier companies and overseas branches.
The Gamma Circle handled industry and commerce, the Delta Circle middle-class housing.
And the outermost Epsilon Circle was where the common folk and the poor congregated.
This structure—where wealthier residents lived closer to the center—was refined by dividing each Circle into twelve [Sectors] managed in a clockwise manner. For instance, [Epsilon Circle Sector 3] referred to the low-income residential area on the city's east side.
But none of this was an absolute rule enforced by law.
Though initially planned that way, things had gradually blurred starting from the development phase, all in the name of efficiency.
Thus, plenty of businesses had settled in the outskirts to cut real estate costs, while others paid steep rents to live near the center.
In a city that held a nation's worth of population, each district was unimaginably vast, leading to mixtures of affluent neighborhoods and slums within them. The layout was simple, but the internal dynamics of each area were complex, varied, and full of unique vibes.
The reason I hadn't really felt these downtown divisions until now was simple.
'Thanks to the aerial commuter vehicle loaned by Lumina Group.'
The ultimate mode of transport that let you soar high above the ground, free from district restrictions or traffic, covering the entire city at will.
A luxurious privilege typically reserved for corporate CEOs—even thinking back on it now, it felt extravagant.
Because of it, I'd been able to roam the city freely without worrying about road conditions or sector boundaries.
The same held true today.
'So why bother explaining all this?'
Because Omega Detroit's regional structure was the most intuitive measure of my current business performance.
The priest continued his report.
"Starting from Epsilon Circle Sector 3, where our first downtown cathedral was established, requests for new cathedrals are flooding in from Sectors 2 and 4, and even Delta Circle Sector 3."
Of Omega Detroit's five Circles, the outermost Delta and Epsilon Circles were low-income residential zones, accounting for 70 percent of the city's population by proportion.
'A single Epsilon Circle Sector matches the entire eastern suburb population.'
Yet just a few weeks after launching the hospital business, word had already spread beyond one Sector's borders into other districts.
It was a report that made the Radiance Church's explosive growth feel all too real.
And for me, it wasn't just numbers—it came with a tangible sense I couldn't get from figures alone.
"........."
I quietly steadied my breath and turned inward.
There, near my heart, I sensed that peculiar "vessel."
The faith gathered from believers filled it far higher than before.
'Gather just a bit more, and I might be able to perform another [Miracle],'
thanks to the surge of new followers and the faith they brought.
'I figured it'd take at least another year...'
Either way, it was good news.
Of course, having a Miracle ready didn't mean I could abuse it.
To use the miracle that would send me back to my original world, I'd need to accumulate far more faith than this.
The more power I expended, the further I'd delay my homecoming.
Still, knowing I could pull off one more Miracle made my heart feel secure.
'If things keep going like this...'
Right then, the priest's voice snapped me from my reverie.
"Church expansion is going smoothly, but per our calculations, as more believers use the hospitals, deficits will rise substantially. We need countermeasures in place, Saintess."
I schooled my expression and nodded.
He was right.
The medical business was charity for those who couldn't afford care.
We'd planned for losses from the start, so regular believers' offerings alone couldn't cover operations.
And as cathedrals expanded, drawing in hordes of new members who tapped into Eleos Medical's services, those deficits would snowball.
'Celestina offered support, but...'
This was the Radiance Church's venture from the outset.
I didn't want to dump the burden solely on her.
So I asked the priest,
"How many of the Church's forces have crossed into downtown so far?"
"Around 30 percent."
Up to now, we'd steadily infiltrated cathedral guardians into the city using private security firm fronts.
That amounted to 30 percent of our total forces.
Enough to easily crush the gangs in low-income areas.
After a quick calculation, I made my decision.
"It's about time we roll out the holy emblem business."
The funding source that let us run charity in the suburbs.
We'd secured it by having Church forces strike protection deals with suburban businesses, sharing their profits.
Business revenues dwarfed individual offerings.
Thus, this had always been the Church's main income stream.
'The question is whether the method that worked in the suburbs flies downtown...'
Fortunately, the priest's report was positive.
"Among the new converts from the medical outreach, there are self-employed shop owners. Most have eagerly signed holy emblem contracts, boosting our reputation and credibility—so nearby businesses are showing interest too."
"Good to hear."
Downtown wasn't all that different.
ODPD played corporate muscle only for big firms with city hall connections in the core.
'They don't properly protect mid-to-small outfits in the outer zones.'
So most businesses hired their own guards or contracted private security.
But the Church could offer services far cheaper than those firms.
'No upkeep costs on our end.'
That irresistible deal had nearby businesses lining up for holy emblem contracts, per the report.
Lean on Celestina short-term for deficits, and soon we'd balance expenses with income.
A weight off my shoulders.
But our troubles didn't end there.
"Saintess... There's one more thing to report."
"Yes? What is it?"
"Some recent probationary believers seem to be abusing our charity programs inappropriately."
The priest grimly detailed his findings.
"People bulk-buying free food and drinks from cathedrals to resell. At hospitals, believers overprescribing meds under false pretenses and fencing them on the black market. Even scams impersonating us near hospitals, charging 'registration fees' for fake memberships."
I fell silent as he listed more petty incidents.
"........."
Truth be told, I'd expected this.
Wherever goodwill is offered, opportunists always emerge to exploit it.
Not all strong are evil, nor all weak good.
In a city where selfishness and cunning were survival tools, it was perhaps inevitable.
'I knew it'd happen, but...'
Facing our charity being exploited hit hard.
"........."
"...Saintess, how should we handle it?"
The reason it hadn't happened in the suburbs yet was simple.
'The Radiance Church burst onto the scene eradicating mafias and gangs.'
We'd imprinted our power and fear first, so no one dared petty tricks before us.
Downtown lacked that preamble, drawing flies to the sweet scent.
Ignoring them would worsen deficits.
Worse, it'd rob the truly needy.
'Can't let it slide.'
But cracking down too harshly with force might scare off downtown residents just starting to warm to us, stalling conversions.
As I pondered solutions, Yoanna piped up, as if reminding me.
"Sis, didn't you say those folks are coming downtown this time? Can I finally see my brother after so long?"
Her out-of-left-field comment puzzled me at first, then jogged a memory.
'Come to think of it...'
The perfect people for handling this were arriving downtown right on cue.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Nights in Epsilon Circle Sector 3 were always rowdy, but lately, the streetscape had subtly shifted.
Neon signs with starlight motifs hung on shops everywhere—the Radiance Church's holy emblems.
In a dark alley, a man watched the scene and spat.
"Fuckin' Radiance Church or whatever... Those bastards are gonna starve us all out."
"Watch your mouth. Plenty've been beaten to pulp for messing with 'em."
True enough. It was still back-alley whispers, but rumors swirled of gangs wiped out trying to shake down emblem-protected shops.
Local thugs fretted, cut off from their bread-and-butter protection rackets.
"Goddamn cult scum."
But some seize changing tides as golden opportunities.
Cayenne, boss of the upstart Mad Tigers gang in Sector 3, had swiftly knelt at the cathedral for baptism.
"I've... lived in darkness, sinning all my life. But now I want to atone for that regrettable path. Please, mercifully allow a sinner like me to become a follower of the Radiance."
He prayed devoutly for seven weeks like a true believer and finally earned his holy emblem.
Days later, on Ashburn Street—Sector 3's busiest strip—his illegal casino and pleasure den opened side by side.
The spot had been prime turf of the infamous [Concrete Kings], untouchable even downtown.
Yet Kings' grunts could only fume helplessly before the shops flying the Church emblem boldly at their entrances.
"...Boss, you really lettin' that punk slide?"
"...What, you wanna charge in and end up corpses?"
Thus, Cayenne's spots thrived brazenly, untouched by reprisal.
A feat impossible even with dozens of armed guards before.
Cayenne was convinced joining the Church was his life's smartest move.
'Long live the Radiance!'
Tithes to the Church were pocket change next to his illicit windfalls.
In his manager's office, Cayenne grinned at the mountain of cash stacks on the table.
The scent of money, fine liquor, real leather sofa, and victory mingled in the air.
He loved it all.
"Haa... Perfection."
Who knew faith could be this sweet?
He genuinely thanked the Radiance.
Then a frantic underling burst in.
"B-Boss! Visitors."
Cayenne didn't look up from the cash. "Who the hell? Can't you see I'm busy?"
The lackey swallowed hard. "Uh... From the Radiance Church."
Cayenne flinched but smirked. Word of his earnings must've spread already.
He stuffed bills into a duffel, thinking,
'No sweat. In this city, money solves everything.'
He sauntered out leisurely and spotted a lone figure waiting by the entrance.
A gloomy-looking young man.
But he wore an unfamiliar gray priest's robe.
'Heard Church fighters wear black monastic garb or merc gear.'
This was neither. Cayenne brushed off the oddity.
He approached, set the duffel at the man's feet—zipper teasingly open, bundles visible for easy bribes.
Plastering on a fawning smile, he oiled,
"Welcome, holy guardian! Such an honor in this humble dive. Care to sample the wares before—"
A low voice cut him off.
"No."
Caught off-guard, Cayenne blinked. "P-Pardon?"
"I'm no guardian."
"Then...?"
The young man with eerie eyes continued.
"Los Pecadores... Call us the 'Sinners.'"
"Ah, right. Los... Anyway, why not step inside for some res—"
Interrupted again.
"Or Inquisitors. Heresy interrogators."
His gaze turned icier.
"Joseph, Inquisitor of the Radiance Church. Brother Cayenne. Care to have a word?"