Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Habitual Worship (4)
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A transparent glass held a shimmering purple liquid, rippling like a ruby.
The golden eyes observing it intently sparkled with a strange glint.
"......"
A moment later, Esty lifted the glass with utmost care.
She gave it a light swirl to aerate the contents, checked the viscosity as it trailed down the glass, and slowly inhaled the aroma echoing within. Finally, she tilted it and took the tiniest sip.
"........"
After savoring the taste with her eyes closed for a long while, she finally spoke.
"My taste sensors' analysis... this seems to be wine."
"As expected...."
As I nodded, Esty added,
"However, it's hard to confirm as fact based on my opinion alone. I've never actually tasted real wine before."
I asked in surprise.
"What?! Really?"
Given her refined image and capabilities, I'd assumed she was well-versed in such things.
But Esty simply shook her head calmly.
"'Real grape wine' is that much of a precious and expensive luxury in this city."
I immediately grasped the implication.
The world of Neofront Cybercity was set in an era where prolonged climate change had turned most of the world's land into wastelands. As a result, the vast majority of edible crops were artificially produced in massive hydroponic towers controlled by megacorporations.
But grapes were inefficient and finicky in such systems.
They required vast growing areas, long maturation periods, enormous light exposure, and meticulous care over the years from planting to full harvest. Factoring in facility investment and operating costs, their economic viability plummeted.
Thus, grapes were treated more as indulgences for a select few elites rather than food, cultivated in tiny quantities in specialized facilities. Naturally, the prices soared to the heavens.
In truth, most fresh produce shared a similar fate in this era. Humanity's staples had long been replaced by factory-processed synthetics, making real fruits rarer than hen's teeth. Everyone knew strawberry, grape, or orange flavors, but almost no one had actually tasted the fruits themselves.
So, wine made from such exorbitant grapes was an ultra-premium luxury. Even the lowest quality started at a minimum of ten thousand credit dollars per bottle, she explained.
I couldn't help blurting out,
"What? That expensive?!"
And rightly so—ten thousand credit dollars equated to over ten million won. The bare minimum starting price, no less. High-end vintages would be in utterly unimaginable territory.
How much would the finest wines served in the opulent dining halls atop skyscrapers cost, then?
The mere thought made my head spin.
I cautiously peered back at the ruby liquid in my glass.
"So... how much is this one worth?"
"Who knows."
Esty couldn't give a firm answer to that.
She'd only analyzed the taste and aroma with her sensors, lacking real-world experience to gauge value.
I was equally clueless about wine.
I was never big on alcohol to begin with.
I took another sip from the glass anyway... but still, no clue.
If I had to go by feel alone, though, it seemed like quite the quality stuff.
The aroma softly tickled the nose with richness, and complex fruit notes danced harmoniously in the mouth without any overpowering. It went down smooth, leaving a pleasant aftertaste that lingered on the exhale.
Honestly, it tastes good...
But what did I know?
Blind tasting was a challenge even for true experts, after all.
One thing was certain, though.
The glass had held plain water just moments ago—and now it was wine.
The effect of my newly manifested 'miracle.'
But this wasn't even described in the original game.
No idea where it came from.
For now, all I knew was that it emerged right after the baptisms.
"........"
I gently caressed the glass on the table.
A new power wasn't bad in itself. But if asked what I could do with it right now... tough to say.
It was limited to turning about one cup of water into wine per day, at best.
Unlike Healing Radiance, which I'd mastered perfectly from the start, this had clear limitations.
Maybe it grows stronger as I baptize more believers?
Too early to tell. Even if so, expanding the flock wasn't straightforward.
The Radiance Church was still in its infancy, buried under internal tasks. There was an optimal limit to new recruits even at our current scale—too many too fast would strain management.
Believers aren't something you gather just because you want to.
So for now, we were focusing on charity in the church's name.
After investing time and sincerity to familiarize neighbors with our presence, then proselytizing. I believed winning hearts went beyond just handouts or gifts.
But that plan flipped entirely in mere days.
"What do you mean? Requests for new churches? What about this building?"
I couldn't hide my bewilderment at Yoanna's report.
The girl scratched her cheek awkwardly.
"Worship attendance exploded. This one spot can't hold them all. We need new churches in each district."
"....Huh?"
It made no sense.
"Wait, haven't we not started proselytizing yet?"
Charity only, at this stage.
That was the plan.
Yet crowds already?
I haven't even used my powers yet?
What the hell?
I was utterly dumbfounded.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Even in my original world, charity wasn't always pure altruism.
Often, influencers used it for image boosts or tax dodges.
In Omega Detroit, such facades were especially rare.
In hyper-capitalism, megacorps wielding vast wealth were the true rulers.
With scant regulations, they ignored the masses. Why treat poor powerless slums better than their own staff or contractors? Charity was just flushing money away.
The very concept had vanished.
No one helped without strings or ulterior motives.
That was this city's harsh reality.
Thus, we planned our charity launch meticulously and cautiously.
To ease suspicions, aid street residents unconditionally first. Blankets for the homeless, hot meals for the starving. Crucially, Yoanna and the members were strictly instructed: no religious pressure, no invitations to join.
But one thing I'd overlooked.
Curiosity about the inexplicable could drive people... more than goodwill.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A rundown square in the back alleys.
Normally littered with drunks and vagrants, today it buzzed with unfamiliar energy.
Cleanly dressed people introduced themselves as members of a new religious group, handing out hot food to passing poor folk—no strings attached.
They smiled as they passed a bread bag to a gaunt man.
"Here you go! Don't skip meals—stay strong!"
The man eyed the offering suspiciously.
"...You give this without me following you? No drugs in it?"
As he probed without lowering his guard, the member beamed brighter.
"Come on, what kinda joke is that? We made it ourselves with care!"
Still dubious, the man pressed on, not taking the bag.
"No signup, no oath? Just take it?"
"Yep! No pressure at all."
Someone who'd taken food lingered, blurting,
"...Why? Why do this?"
"Because the Radiance loves you all! We're just sharing that love!"
The man stared dazedly at the bread bag in his hand.
God's love?
Ridiculous.
He shuffled off in a stupor, forgetting thanks.
Sharing God's love? Nonsense, even on second thought.
Yet that bizarre nonsense lingered in his head all day.
"Hey, Marco. What're you brooding over?"
In the dingy factory dorm, a coworker offered a smoke and asked.
Marco spilled the day's events: free bread, weird cult, God's love.
The coworker roared with laughter.
"Pfft! Free bread for anyone? For real?"
Then tsked.
"Lunatics. Nothing's free. Hundred percent scammers. Sleep more instead of wasting time."
The coworker lost interest quick. But Marco felt unease gnawing.
Scammers always demand something eventually. These just spent their own money, asked nothing.
Repeated that unknowable "God's love" phrase.
His curiosity unbearable, he confirmed the bread was perfectly fine.
".........."
Next day, Marco couldn't resist. He grilled a distributor for the church's location and went.
Shabby exterior, but an inexplicable vibrancy inside.
No intent to join—just too curious about their angle.
Yet at the entrance, a priest politely blocked him.
"Sorry. Worship time now—no outsiders. Too many seeking the divine lately; seats are full."
Marco tensed at the sudden figure, but the priest looked apologetic, handing over another bread bag and a small drink bottle.
"Sorry you came all this way. Take this at least—wait if you like, or come back next time? I'll guide you personally then."
No talk of donations or joining, despite Marco's wariness en route.
Just apologies and more free food.
"........"
Marco plunged into deeper confusion.
Unable to speak properly, he numbly took the bag and turned away.
On the way home, his mind grew more tangled.
Who the hell are they? Giving stuff away with zero demands?
Normal cults would've latched onto a willing mark.
Being politely turned away was unforeseen.
Thus, Marco's suspicion morphed into an unstoppable obsession.