Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Sudden Worship (2)
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'Calm down for now.'
I pressed my hand against my wildly pounding heart, soothing myself. I'd been startled for a moment, but upon calm reflection, this wasn't a particularly dangerous situation.
The girl before me still looked sickly and frail, and Esty was right outside the door—she'd come bursting in at the slightest shout. Given her reaction speed, even if something went wrong, the odds of any direct threat to me were practically nil. That thought eased my racing heartbeat a little.
Above all, she hadn't done me any actual harm yet. I'd just been caught off guard by the sheer unexpectedness of it. So for now... let's talk it out.
I cleared my throat. Then, to the girl still staring at me with that uncomfortably intense gaze, I asked,
"Why do you think I'm Yoanna's god? No—how did you even know my name?"
At my question, she flashed a bright, innocent smile. But behind it, I sensed an inexplicable chill. It wasn't just this dreadful place.
Yoanna echoed my doubt, as if confirming it.
"Is that what you're curious about?"
And then, as if she'd been waiting for this exact moment, she nodded readily.
"Yes. If you want, I'll tell you everything—from the very beginning."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ My body first started hurting when I was around six years old. The doctors rattled off some complicated disease name, but none of them could tell me how to make it better. It began as a little weakness in my legs, but soon it spread all over my body.
Brother Joseph tried everything for my sake, running all over the place, but he couldn't find a cure anywhere. In the end, as a last resort, he left me here at the church. They had a place that looked after kids like me—sick ones with nowhere else to go.
Brother headed out early every morning and came back late at night, while the church sisters took care of me all day long. It was a bit lonely... but I never once resented it. Even as a kid that young, I knew we had no other choice. I understood that brother put up with everything for me, and I was truly, deeply grateful.
But that didn't make life at the church fun. To stay here, you had to listen to the Cult leader's teachings and the Bible studies the sisters drilled into us.
At first, I hated every second of it. I couldn't understand any of it. God loves everyone—so why was I suffering? Bad deeds bring punishment, so did that mean I was a bad kid who'd gotten this illness as payback? Nothing but confusing thoughts.
But I couldn't refuse the studies. The sisters helped with everything—eating, using the bathroom—so if I said I didn't want to listen, they wouldn't feed me sometimes. With limbs that wouldn't move, I couldn't even plug my ears.
Day after day, it sank in, and my thinking started to shift. Deep down, I'd scoff, Pfft, who actually buys this? But bit by bit, I began to believe there had to be a real god out there somewhere.
Because that was the only way I could survive. The Bible's God worked miracles to save good people—especially the sick ones like me. But if there was no god in this world... even the doctors couldn't fix me, so I'd just rot in pain forever and die? Forever trapped in this useless log of a body till the end? No way. I hated that.
Yes. So there had to be a god.
Faith in god took root that day, but honestly, it wasn't the kind the church preached. Even a child could see it with a little thought and observation—the pastors' daily sermons about faith were ones even they didn't follow. It was all lies for money. After that, I tuned out every idiotic word from the Cult leader.
Instead, I resolved to find the 'real god.' A true savior who could unleash genuine miracles and bust me out of this suffocating flesh prison.
What, how could I search when I couldn't even twitch? It's the information age! Way faster than dragging my body around—cyberspace. The best part? You don't need working fingers. Just a mind that can think, and you're freer than anyone.
That day, I dove into the net.
Unlike my bedridden corpse, my thoughts swam wild in the internet's ocean. And I must've been good at it—time vanished once I started.
I poked at anything and everything at first. But juicy stuff was locked behind secrets or security. So I studied: system handling, cracking tough codes. Years without proper food or sleep—I lost track. Time was all I had anyway, immobile as I was.
Eventually... I cracked the Cult leader's secret slush fund account and 'convinced' a few sisters. No more tedious Bible studies, and I scored top-tier dive gear.
Cyberspace became my main haunt. I even breached city management security. Unearthed a few buried secrets. Boring, though—all money schemes and dull adult drama. Zero on my 'god.' Dropped it.
Yeah, goal was pie-in-the-sky. Couldn't comb every net byte randomly. So I pivoted: built a smart filter for 'real miracles' only. Finished, it let me sift city data fresh—not scattershot, but honing in on the wondrous, weird, miraculous signs.
I roamed that info sea, no food, no sleep.
Thousands, tens of thousands—way more hours—fixated on one thing. A god to save me.
Sometimes I'd think I was nuts, but no stopping. Conviction burned: a 'real god' existed somewhere. Not logic—my sole reason to live. And I was right, wasn't I?
Because here you are.
Know this? Omega Detroit has the world's densest CCTV net.
Out of all those eyes, not one caught it?
The pure soul untouched by original sin, first touching this soil... that miraculous instant.
Or the one in human form bearing god's mercy, quietly aiding the sick and wounded—all those steps. My heart nearly burst watching. The exact savior I'd never doubted.
Sleepless nights from sheer thrill. Is this love?
But joy bred anxiety. My savior, right there within arm's reach... saving others, while I—the desperate prayer—languished in this vile flesh jail.
I never doubted your mercy would find me someday. But waiting blindly on timing? No. I craved your embrace one day sooner, this torment's end.
So I nudged things. Guided Pastor Myer's 'project'—the Karen mother-daughter—to you. Your kindness, witnessed all along, wouldn't let them pass by.
And just like I thought, here we are—together!
If it bothered you, I'm truly sorry. But this impatient, seething heart... aching to greet you sooner... can you forgive it?
Oh, and... the greedy Cult leader geezer and his scummy underlings? Neatly handled. Useless obstacles to welcoming the 'real god.'
Only the purely salvation-starved remain...
Exactly 144 believers left upstairs. All souls like mine—same faith, yearning for your salvation.
Yes, we lived for this, to serve you.
Pleased to meet you. We've awaited your coming.
Our god.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 'Hold on... then, don't tell me...'
Midway through Yoanna's puzzle-piece tale, one detail snagged. Others aside—her claim of personally 'handling' the Cult leader.
In a shaky voice, I asked,
"You... deliberately triggered Joseph's Cybernetic Rage?"
Yoanna, gripping my wrist, grinned enigmatically.
"Who knows?"
That playful dodge chilled my spine. She eyed my face, then chuckled lightly and waved it off.
"Kidding. He's my only family, no matter what. I'd never."
She laughed saying it, but her eyes stayed stone-cold.
"But... I figured if brother saw those drugs, he'd crave revenge on the Cult leader and execs who duped us. Obviously, right? Real god arrives—can't just let name-defilers slide by."
No guilt in her even tone.
Just natural outcome, she pressed on.
"Didn't expect him to snap so hard he'd slaughter every last believer, though. Beyond that... unfortunate accident?"
She flashed another creepy smile.
"Or maybe... inevitable."
"...Inevitable?"
I echoed; she nodded like it was obvious. Excitement flushed her pale cheeks redder.
"Yes. I gave chances. Plenty."
No waver left—pure, fanatical certainty she'd been right.
"Told them over and over: no false prophet—the 'real god' comes soon. Prepare! But they ignored me. Clung to the idiot liar, blind to truth. Unworthy posers."
Recalling them, her gaze iced—then flipped to fervent worship on me.
"But we're different. We knew the true one to faith in. Our savior."
Ecstasy lit her fevered cheeks.
"No rewards now. True faith is the blessing. Just wield us—your tools—as you wish... to claim your desires."
Done, she knelt slow, wrist still latched. Off the wheelchair, frail form prostrate on cold floor—precarious, but eyes blazed fiercest yet.
Head at my feet, she whispered devout.
"All I have—no, all of us—to you."
Matter-of-fact as breathing, zero doubt.
"So, god... accept our service."
Room choked in silence. That zealous vow's fervor hit; I blurted,
"Why... me?"
".........."
Yoanna lifted her head slow. Gone the mania—raw, almost innocent bewilderment shone.
"...Huh?"