6. The Spoiled Saintess
The Lord God of that other world was a strange one.
He was a personal deity wielding transcendent power, whimsically meddling in the human realm to twist history every which way, and the madman who'd kidnapped me to boot.
So naturally, the church that followed such a being wasn't exactly normal either.
From the start, their god was a human trafficker who snatched up perfectly sane people to use as proxies. Did anyone really expect his followers to be right in the head? They were all lunatics, plain and simple.
Sure, the pope and his cronies I'd swept aside were corrupt criminals from the get-go, but even the rest of the church wasn't what you'd call sane.
They treated crumbling scriptures like sacred relics, droning on about outdated nonsense like "killing people is wrong," or "you need a purification rite after facing demons to stay safe," or "even devil worshippers shouldn't be burned alive—it's a sin."
I mean, come on—wasn't that ridiculous?
I was in direct contact with the god they worshipped. Who'd know his will better than me? And with the demon king, evil gods, and outer deities running rampant, who had time for moral lectures?
...Anyway.
Even among the chaotic, otherworldly fanatics of that mad church, one stood at the pinnacle.
The nun of the First Seat, commonly known as the Saintess: Miley Saint-Lafia.
Unlike the deranged faithful obsessed with their god and scriptures, the Saintess—Miley Saint-Lafia—suffered from a bizarre fixation on the proxy chosen directly by that god.
In other words, she was obsessed with me.
Not that I couldn't understand it.
Stripped down to basics, wasn't I basically a god-chosen idol? A devout saintess might get a little fixated on the divine proxy. Especially since this idol came straight from the god himself.
But apparently, I'd been misunderstanding something.
This psycho.
Her obsession had nothing to do with the Lord God?
I let out a deep sigh as I gazed at Miley Saint-Lafia, still putting on her "perfectly normal" act during the interview.
I had a lot I wanted to say, but... whatever.
"David."
"Yes, President."
"Just hire her."
There probably wasn't anyone in this world who could take better care of me than her.
Miley Saint-Lafia.
No—Miley McKee.
Butler hired.
After Miley McKee's hiring was finalized,
David Kim handed over all the notes and files he'd compiled on me so far.
"Here—these are what I've gathered. They'll be great reference material for serving the president."
Truth be told, Seongwon was an oddity even among the super-rich—downright irrational at times.
Because of that, David Kim had faced endless headaches while assisting his "special" employer.
Hoping his successor wouldn't endure the same trial-and-error, he'd meticulously compiled notes on my traits, characteristics, and precautions.
...Damn, I've got a ton of this stuff written down.
Thinking back on the pains he'd taken to assemble it brought a sting to his eyes. But thanks to his sacrifice, the newbie wouldn't suffer the same fate!
And the one who'd be closest to me from now on was this butler, Miley McKee. Building rapport early would spare him future hassles.
Door-handle power is a scary thing, after all.
No more butting heads with someone he'd see constantly. So David Kim smiled warmly and explained in a friendly tone.
"The president has some... unique quirks. Not that super-rich folks are ever normal, but..."
"......"
"Anyway, I've got all this compiled so far, and I'll handle the handover diligently. Let's work hard together!"
David extended his hand for a polite, professional handshake. All Miley had to do was grab it and pump.
But she didn't.
Not content with refusing, she clasped her hands behind her back at parade rest and fixed him with a cool stare.
"...Uh, hello?"
"No need."
"Pardon?"
David's smile cracked at the response.
Just to be sure, he asked cautiously.
"What do you mean, no need?"
As if that were the trigger, Miley McKee looked down at him like he was dirt and murmured low.
"From the start, what value do a few months of aimless hovering and jotting down scraps hold, that you hand them over with such fanfare?"
David's face hardened again.
...What the hell is this?
No, his brain couldn't even process it properly.
Did she just openly pick a fight? Out of nowhere?
His face flooded with bewilderment, but Yale-bred elite David Kim's mind raced on regardless.
Did I screw up somewhere?
No, not really.
Then why? She was all polite during the interview.
That politeness was gone now—vanished.
Was it because the president was there then?
But why act like this now? This attitude was a one-way ticket to firing. Was she getting cocky just because she'd signed the contract?
Persy, you idiot from that backwater dump...! Said he'd recommend the top elite from the International Butler Academy, and this is it?
Some street punk from a hoodie alley?
Heat rose to his head, but David pinched his thigh to snap out of it.
Good thing it's out in the open now.
If she'd hidden this side and schemed until she grabbed the door-handle power, that's when the real chaos would start. By then he'd have quit and bolted, but it still soured his mood—and his career.
"Ha, haha. Right, sorry. Finance isn't my expertise outside my field, so I wouldn't know. A butler like you must understand the role far better than I do."
This was his chance.
I'm still closer to the president. I can make my words stick—fire her now.
Too bad she spoke Korean, but he could find another bilingual candidate.
Elite financier David Kim's brain swiftly derived the optimal solution.
Still irked—or was it contemptuous?—by the displeasing Miley McKee, David sent her packing and immediately contacted me.
No way I'd ditch the guy who'd diligently assisted me for months over some sudden French beauty. Weird as I was, I wasn't stupid!
His calculations couldn't fail!
"Eh, just keep her."
"No, President. Do you really want to see me lose my mind?"
A minor issue cropped up.
What kind? The moment I looked away, our saintess had stirred up major trouble.
Her glare at David Kim by my side hadn't been friendly, but I hadn't expected her to charge straight in while I toured the apartment.
She really needed to work on her patience, Saint-Lafia.
But firing Miley? No such plans. For one, I still needed to figure out how she'd crossed to Earth. Plus, no one knew me like she did.
And honestly, a nutjob like this belonged under my direct control, close at hand.
Let her loose on the world? Who knew what madness she'd unleash? Better to keep her leashed myself—that was the golden answer.
So no firing.
Of course, once I declared it, David Kim whined endlessly about the injustice, like a broken record.
He was necessary too. Months together had built some rapport, and he rolled money like a pro.
David really was good at his job.
Anyway.
To sort things out, I summoned my head butler.
"You called, Master?"
"Hm. I heard there was trouble with David Kim."
"I don't recall saying anything particularly problematic. It seems I simply didn't know his personality, leading to the issue. I must have unintentionally touched a sensitive spot or trauma."
"Dunno about sensitive."
I crossed my arms and fixed her with a steady gaze. Miley Saint-Lafia's eyes flickered, then she fidgeted, dropping her stare to the floor.
Only then did I speak slowly. Words from a language no one on Earth had ever heard flowed from my lips.
"David Kim is someone I absolutely need right now, so try not to cause issues going forward."
"B-but!"
"Really. Needed. Person."
Miley froze, shock etched on her face.
Soon her eyes rimmed red. Seeing her bite her lip like a tragic heroine scorned in love nearly made me burst out laughing.
"...I don't know what you're thinking, but David's a finance expert. That's why I need him. You can't manage money, Miley!"
Her trembling finally stilled.
I sighed deeply and said,
"So no more fighting if you can help it. If you do, make up. This was your fault, so go apologize. Pour your heart into it until he accepts."
Got it?
Her head nodded slowly at last.
I let out another heavy sigh.
Good grief, these spoiled brats.
Issue sealed—for now. On to the next.
"So. How'd you get here?"
Miley Saint-Lafia was from the other world.
I'd been living in Korea when kidnapped there, so returning wasn't weird. But an otherworlder like Miley crossing over? Totally separate matter.
Hope no one else is coming—with their powers intact.
That would be real trouble. Straight-up hunter story territory.
To my question, Miley smiled.
"The Lord God sent me."
"The Lord God? Just let you go? No strings?"
Well, seemed like he'd stripped her saintess powers as payment. But at my level, I could've crossed with mine intact—Miley wasn't quite there.
To my doubt, she beamed.
"The price wasn't so great."
"What? For real?"
That bastard Lord God—strict only with me? Pissing me off now. Though the 27 trillion won softened it.
But that wasn't quite it.
"Yes, I offered all the holy relics stored in the sanctuary as tribute, and he clicked his tongue but sent me anyway."
"...You sacrificed that mountain of stuff."
I stared at Miley, appalled.
Yeah, she was certifiably insane.