Chapter 37
Chapter 37
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: A Church Without Missionaries (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
May reflected on the facts she knew.
The Viper gang she had seen yesterday were undoubtedly the notorious gangsters who once made the entire street tremble in fear.
Yet those thugs had been chased off by a single person—lightly, as if twisting a child's wrist.
That bizarre scene lingered in May's mind all night long.
In fact, in these lower streets, raw power was absolute authority in itself. A privilege that could obtain anything one desired. It would be stranger not to wield it freely.
But the man in priestly robes from yesterday, and the Radiance Church he belonged to—they were different somehow.
Even though they clearly possessed power, they didn't flaunt it recklessly. If they'd wanted, they could have extorted protection money from the shops in the area like the thugs did, but they hadn't.
They simply lived quietly among their neighbors.
It was a sight utterly unlike any group May had encountered in her lifetime scraping by in these back alleys.
That's why it left such a strong impression. Thoughts of them wouldn't leave her head.
The next morning dawned, and before she knew it, May found her feet carrying her somewhere.
Finally, she arrived before the church doors.
".........."
Not even she knew what she wanted to confirm.
May cautiously opened the door and stepped inside.
A female parishioner who had been waiting welcomed her with a warm smile.
"Welcome, sister. Is this your first time?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ May found herself glancing around without thinking.
'It's... nicer than I thought?'
The church interior, guided by the parishioner, was surprisingly clean and tidy. She'd expected the closed-off, sinister atmosphere typical of cults, but this place felt far more reverent and solemn, with an air of well-organized discipline.
That impression grew stronger when she was led past the hallway to an inner office.
Usually, private meetings like this were used to assert even more authority, but this space felt oddly comfortable. Softly colored wallpaper and a windowsill with small potted plants even evoked a cozy warmth.
There, May sat face-to-face with a gaunt man.
He looked as skinny as someone who hadn't had a proper meal in ages, but his gaze toward her was gentle and calm.
"Pleased to meet you, sister. I'm Deacon Myer."
The man greeted her softly first and offered her a seat.
"Y-yes, nice to meet you too...."
May awkwardly replied as she sat across from him.
Unsure what to say first, she hesitated, but the deacon spoke up.
"So, I hear you're troubled by safety issues at your shop."
He looked utterly accustomed to such visits, pulling a single sheet of paper from a drawer and handing it to her as if it were routine.
'.....A pledge?'
She hesitated a moment before taking the document. Its contents read as follows:
First, donate one-tenth of the shop's pure profits each month to the church.
Second, the church accepts you as a brother or sister in faith and offers protection.
Third, a holy seal is provided as proof, which may be displayed at the shop.
That was it. So concise there wasn't even room for alternative interpretations.
But one word in particular caught her eye.
'Holy seal...?'
At that term, May unwittingly recalled last night's horrific scene. The Viper thugs collapsing helplessly—that shop had definitely had a peculiar emblem hanging there.
That must have been the church's holy seal.
May asked back.
"Is this everything? No additional payments or mandatory conditions? Like having to attend services, for example......"
Pastor Myer shook his head with his usual gentle expression.
"It's not required. Forced faith holds no meaning. True blessing comes from voluntary belief born of the heart. Of course, you're always welcome to join Mass if you wish, sister, but it's not an obligation."
"So..... even without being a full parishioner, you'll protect me?"
Doubt still filled May's voice.
But the pastor simply answered as if it were the most natural thing.
"Your offerings allow us to help even more struggling neighbors. You're contributing to that love in practice, sister. You more than qualify to be called a sister in faith."
"......."
May still couldn't shake the nagging doubt.
The conditions were too outrageous.
Not because they were expensive—quite the opposite. Too cheap. Guaranteeing safety in these lawless back alleys for just 10% of pure profits? It was suspicious. The Vipers alone nominally took 30-40% of sales as "protection," yet offered no real safeguard—in fact, they were the threat.
Unable to hide her suspicion, May asked again.
"No other conditions? What's the contract term?"
Pastor Myer shook his head once more.
"As I said, faith is free. If it ever no longer suits you, simply return the holy seal and stop the offerings—no issue at all. We respect your choice, sister."
".........."
It was too good to be true. Everything was so unprecedented.
But recalling last night's chilling sight of thugs approaching through the window, she had no other options.
Even if it was a scam, in her position with nowhere else to turn, she had to grasp this rotten lifeline.
In the end, after a long silence, May gave a small nod.
Pastor Myer smiled faintly and handed her the document along with a starlight-shaped holy seal on a necklace.
The brief meeting ended.
Back at her shop, May held the holy seal for a while, hesitating.
Then, with a deep sigh, she hung it inside the window most visible from outside.
'Will this really.... work?'
She gazed at the hung seal, her heart filled with anxiety yet a glimmer of desperate hope.
And several weeks passed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ In the past, when violent syndicates dominated the area's shops with protection rackets, they extorted massive sums yet turned a blind eye to the merchants' troubles.
If robbers or thieves hit a shop but didn't take the full protection cut, the syndicates mostly ignored it.
But no one dared complain to those terrifying outfits about breaking promises, so incidents leaving merchants like May fuming weren't rare.
Yet over the past few weeks, the Radiance Church members who occasionally visited the shop were completely different.
"Everything alright, sister?"
"Yes, thanks to you. I appreciate it always."
May didn't know it, but they were former mercenaries who had successfully completed countless commissions. Such types often doubled as fixers and detectives.
They were experts at handling incidents.
If trouble arose at a place with the church's holy seal, they'd nab the culprits within half a day.
"The robbers who hit the shop during the day—are these the ones?"
"Y-yes.... That's them. Definitely. How on earth....?"
Their astonishing efficiency left her dumbfounded.
May didn't know, but homeless parishioners scattered throughout the alleys played a big role. Residents receiving church food aid willingly provided witness info for resolutions.
Even police struggled for such cooperation. Fear of retaliation for snitching was the unwritten rule here.
But the Radiance Church was different—they were already part of the alleys, practically the real rulers. They'd demonstrated multiple times they could wipe out any group targeting cooperators overnight.
Thus, as petty crooks and clueless thugs were uprooted entirely, no crimes occurred at shops with holy seals.
Seeing this, other skeptical shopkeepers began flocking to the church one by one.
"Uh.... Is this the Radiance Church group?"
"Can we get protection if we... believe in the Radiance too?"
"Of course, brother."
Eventually, only shops without seals became crime targets, so every store on the street proudly displayed the church's mark.
As seals multiplied, local security visibly stabilized.
With order restored, the district buzzed with new vitality.
People once avoiding streets after dark now roamed freely, boosting foot traffic. Shops like May's thrived.
Higher hourly earnings meant no need to keep late hours like before.
Shorter workdays brought leisure to May's life.
Evenings now meant dining and chatting with her son.
"How was school today?"
"Teacher praised my homework! Wanna see?!"
"Really? Good job, son—show Mom too."
In truth, all these changes felt surreal to her.
Just one brave visit to the church, and life's problems melted away like magic.
Headaches no one else could fix vanished, leaving her stunned.
Naturally, curiosity grew.
Radiance Church.... What kind of people were they to help others like this?
And what was this "God's love" they always spoke of?
Stories she'd dismissed as pie-in-the-sky now sparked positive curiosity.
It was time to close the evening rush.
The shop bustled, but May's face wore a serene smile over fatigue.
Glancing at the busy kitchen, she murmured to herself.
"The church.... Maybe I should go sometime."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ I pointed to a specific part of the report I'd just received and asked again.
"Even 10th Street is requesting a new church? Why?"
I couldn't help tilting my head. It was that bizarre.
"We haven't even started charity work there yet, right?"
Why were people from unrelated districts suddenly wanting to follow the church?
The expansion was unnaturally rapid, leaving me flustered.
Meeting my puzzled gaze, Yoanna gave her usual enigmatic smile.
"Who knows. Maybe they instinctively realized true divine love?"
Here we go again. Yoanna was competent, but her thinking got odd with faith topics. She interpreted everything overly optimistically or miraculously. Needed some filtering.
Anyway, that wasn't the priority. Rapid growth had pros and cons, but nothing urgently worrying. A more pressing issue loomed.
"Investigation done? Confirmed this month's deficit?"
Yoanna, still smiling mysteriously, offered a new report.
"Want to see?"
Honestly, I expected nothing good. I'd assigned it fearing dire results.
For good reason: In my original world, religious groups relied on parishioner tithes. Clergy obsessed over them for a reason—nearly the sole self-generated revenue, vital for operations.
But our converts? Mostly destitute slum-dwellers barely scraping by.
They could barely donate voluntarily. Yet we poured massive funds into aiding them.
Endlessly giving without return? Couldn't just say "you people are the remainder." Operations were reality.
We used laundered gang slush funds now, but money vanishes once spent. Especially our non-productive charities—pure donations and service.
So I'd requested Yoanna and admin to detail finances meticulously.
But...
The number on the first page made me doubt my eyes.
"Church operations... 27% in the black? How...?"
I blankly rechecked the figure repeatedly.
Watching me, the girl wore that inscrutable smile.
"Praise the Radiance, perhaps?"