Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: A Church Without Missionaries (8)
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Thomas was your run-of-the-mill unemployed drifter in this back alley.
He roamed daily in search of day labor gigs, and on days he came up empty, he inevitably went hungry and slept rough—one of those guys.
But after landing a job at a church-affiliated business, his life improved beyond anything he could've imagined. It had been ages since he'd eaten three square meals a day. A man who'd never spared a thought for God's existence now showed up at church every week, offering up sincere prayers of thanks.
'Lord Radiance, thank you for today's daily bread.'
Without a doubt, the 'church' he belonged to was nothing like the other cults he'd seen.
Unlike those other religious nuts spouting vague crap like 'God helps those who help themselves,' these folks actually did real good.
They shared food with the starving, hooked people up with jobs, and gave warm shelter to those with nowhere else to go—even taking a loss to do it. They acted for the lowest of the low in this alley, the ones nobody else gave a damn about.
The church priests said it was all by the will of the 'Saintess.'
"Lord Radiance loves you all, and as proof of that boundless love, He sent His first daughter into this world."
According to their sermons, she'd come to earth to share God's love with everyone in His place.
She was Evania, the Radiance Church's living idol, worshipped by the entire congregation.
Thomas had glimpsed her once, from way far off.
On the day of a massive mass, the girl atop the altar was dazzlingly beautiful.
Her mysterious, elegant aura made the tale of her being God's daughter feel utterly believable—no exaggeration needed.
But it wasn't just her looks. What really pulled people in was a heart as lovely as her appearance. She poured out endless compassion that put 'God's love' to shame, proving it through every church initiative. How could the faithful not adore her from the heart?
Thomas was no different. He'd only seen her face for a split second, but he deeply yearned for the 'Saintess' who'd transformed his life. If he ever got the chance, he wanted to offer her his heartfelt thanks.
But he knew his station.
The Saintess sent by God was a star in the heavens.
A figure far too exalted for a lowly believer like him to ever reach.
Maybe he'd catch a distant peek at one of the big church events.
But that didn't bother him. It was just a minor regret compared to the happiness he now enjoyed.
He was thrilled just to no longer scrape by on cheap calorie crackers every meal.
Thanks to his steady paycheck, he even had the spare cash to treat himself to favorites now and then.
He finally reached his usual pizza joint.
Pushing open the familiar door, the girl at the counter greeted him warmly.
"Welcome!"
But something... felt off. Thomas froze mid-step without thinking.
The uniformed girl behind the counter.
That impossibly gentle smile... wasn't it the face of the Saintess he'd cherished so deeply in his heart?
"......?"
He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Same thing.
The very one from memory, preaching divine mercy in pristine vestments.
The Radiance Church's worshipped living idol.
Thomas couldn't wrap his head around why the Saintess was grinning at him in part-time uniform.
So he just stood there, rigid as a board.
'A dream...?'
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Part-time shifts were surprisingly slow.
Most orders went out via drone delivery, so I didn't face many customers directly.
Still, some stopped by for pickups or to eat in. And those who locked eyes with me on the way out all reacted the same way, like clockwork.
First, a startled flinch.
".....!"
Then doubting their own eyes, blinking over and over. Some rubbed their faces dry and stared again.
Soon they plunged into utter confusion.
Faces like they'd spotted a live zebra smack in their usual alley.
Pure cognitive shutdown from seeing something that shouldn't be there.
Not a few even pinched their cheeks, wondering if they were trapped in some weird dream.
By now, I was pretty used to it all and just played it cool. Past run-ins taught me that acting like I knew what was up only made things more awkward.
So I'd chat them up like any ordinary part-timer, cool as can be.
"Place an order, sir?"
That's when they'd jolt back to reality and remember why they came.
"Ah, yeah! P-pickup... order 875..."
"Got it, large cheese pizza reserved? It'll be ready in a sec—mind waiting inside?"
They'd hesitate like they wanted to ask something or chat, lips flapping silently before shuffling to a table.
All the while shooting endless sneaky glances my way, obvious as hell that they were dying of curiosity.
They'd whip their eyes away if I turned, but couldn't hold back the itch. Like a staring contest of who'd crack first and ask whatever burning question they had.
"Your pizza's ready!"
Handing it over broke the standoff, and they'd take it with that same dazed look.
"Have a good one!"
Then they'd practically stumble out the door.
This wooden-puppet routine played out daily with tons of customers.
A few bold ones even asked straight up.
"Um... are you really the Saintess? Why are you working here...?"
I'd trot out my rehearsed line as naturally as possible.
"Yep. Part-timing to cover living expenses."
Not a lie—I'd started for exactly that reason.
But they always looked even more baffled.
The church leader who ran the whole district slinging pizzas for pocket change? Unthinkable.
Even the bravest couldn't bring themselves to question the 'Saintess,' though.
Most just flashed awkward smiles and backed off.
These little farces unfolded regularly in this tiny pizza shop on 13th Street.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The Radiance Church currently enjoyed tons of local support, but it was also an object of awe.
Having effortlessly swept away the gangs that once terrorized the alleys and taken their turf, raw power always loomed like a shadow behind their good deeds.
No matter how protective, fearing overwhelming force was human nature.
Like how even the friendliest cop makes you straighten up on instinct.
But over the last few days, that vibe started shifting.
"Heard about her...?"
"Pizza shop? Wild."
The church head's unexpected humility—working a regular job for living expenses—was prime gossip fuel.
Back-alley locals felt an unconscious kinship.
A leader's 'everyman image' plays a bigger role than you'd think. It builds rapport and empathy with the masses, boosting the whole group's favor.
That's why politicians swarm markets during elections, munching street food to seem relatable.
Of course, botch it and it backfires. A clueless tycoon fumbling basic prices just breeds contempt.
Still, the strategy's effectiveness is proven time and again. Even scandal-plagued figures skyrocket in popularity from one goofy candid shot. That's why bigwigs posture for the public eye.
But the Radiance Church had outgrown such gimmicks.
Dominant turf control. Rock-solid public support. Endless cash flow.
Zero material or power shortages—so why bother?
That's exactly why doing the 'unnecessary' felt genuine.
New sentiments began budding in how people viewed the Radiance Church.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ At first, most reactions were daunted by facing the church's living idol one-on-one.
But humans adapt, right?
The awkwardness faded quick.
A few more days, and folks started warming up.
Now I felt like some A-list celeb with sky-high approval.
Just walking the street like always, and total strangers would approach with greetings left and right.
"Blessings on you. What luck running into the Saintess here."
No sooner had a middle-aged guy bowed politely than an auntie clasped her hands and approached.
"Saintess, thanks to your prayer last time, my kid passed the exam. Truly grateful."
Then a gaggle of girls popped up, squealing "Kyaa! It's Eve!" like I'd debuted as an idol, begging handshakes before giggling off in a frenzy.
I still found it awkward and flustered, fumbling smiles while returning their greetings.
"Y-yes... great to see you all! Have a wonderful day...!"
My commute now took several times longer.
If old devotees bordered on reverence, now it mixed in warmth and affection.
Especially passing the church—total rock-star treatment.
'Wh-what's going on...?'
I was getting mobbed more and more, but the silver lining was how pure and kind the attention felt.
A bit overwhelming and tiring, but not a bad vibe.
"Ah! Saintess! Perfect timing!"
Cruising through the shops, a grocer burst out and grabbed me.
"Got a rare limited-edition calorie cracker today—wanna try? Mint choco mala tanghulu flavor!"
He held a bag of freakishly colored crackers.
"Th-thanks, but I'll pass! Running late for work!"
I politely dodged the gift and bolted.
The change was still a tad much for me.