Fifty Thousand Believers

Articles about the Love Church plastered every corner of social media. "Blowing up" didn't even cover it anymore. They had punched through the atmosphere ages ago and were sailing past Mars, bound for Jupiter.

And Kang Seongjun — head of a Love Church hurtling toward infinite space —

Maybe... this is my destiny?

He had moved past denying reality and into the rarefied art of justifying it to himself. He had only meant to see how far the thing would go. He had come much, much too far.

Was I so hopeless beside my brothers... because I was meant to serve the God of the Tower? Is all of this... a revelation?

The Love Church had begun modestly, as a humble House of Love, and its intentions had never been pure. It was nothing more than the childish stunt of a spoiled chaebol heir who simply wanted the title of founder for himself.

In truth, Kang Seongjun's character wasn't especially good. Now and then he did a kindness and basked in the satisfaction of it. Now and then he made a mistake he hadn't meant to make, and left someone with a wound that would never wash clean. An ordinary person, the sort you could find anywhere in the world.

But didn't they say a seat makes the person?

I can set unhappy lives right... not anyone else. Me. This Kang Seongjun...! With the power of the God of the Tower...!

Kang Seongjun was changing. In a bleak age when a sense of justice had become a vulgar joke, he alone was rowing against the current. A faith that he might truly change the world was kindling in him, slow and sure.

What was more, the Love Church was no longer a faith revered only by the vulnerable. Celebrities like Cha Seoyun, of course — but also former members of the National Assembly, S-rank Hunters driven into retirement by grievous injuries, senior officials of the government. Believers who held real strength and real power were multiplying fast.

Even at home, they no longer treated him like a clueless child. Those brilliant brothers of his no longer dealt with him as carelessly as they once had.

The flock still numbered fewer than fifty thousand. People still called it a cult.

Even so, he had become, beyond any argument, the head of a religion that was healing the world.

"Founder, it is time for you to enter."

An apostle's voice, calling him. Guided up onto the dais, Kang Seongjun looked quietly around him.

"Waaaaaaah—!"

"Long live the God of the Tower—! Long live the Founder—!"

Love Church believers packed a vast stadium. All at once, the worries of days past flickered through his mind.

The player on the 777th floor of the Tower. Their identity still hasn't come to light, but...

An elf? A demon? A dwarf? It didn't matter. Worship of another race? Activity against humankind? Let them think whatever they liked.

The man he was now already had martyrdom in mind.

At last Kang Seongjun cried the Love Church's rallying call and dropped to one knee toward the Tower.

"Infinite glory to the God of the Tower—!"

The believers filling the stadium flung both hands skyward and praised the one who waited somewhere within the Tower.

And the next day, the Love Church broke through the dreamed-of mark of fifty thousand believers.

Another peaceful day on the deserted island. Down in the Safe Zone on the cool emerald sea, Minhyuk was enjoying a new hobby, to the sound of water slapping and splashing.

For the record, it was not swimming.

"Hehe, water gun — pew!"

"Kkureung—!"

"Kkorong-kkorong—!"

The ones lost in the bliss of water play were Elia and the meerkats. He had added another twenty square meters of ocean Safe Zone through the perk Isolated Island, and it had become a pool roomy enough for everyone to play at once. The Little Wooden Soldiers stood dressed in a neat rank, sunbathing and standing sentry in the same breath.

Which raised the question of what yours truly was doing.

Wait, Ji Minhyuk... you have to wait...

Wooden rod in hand, he was quietly angling for time itself, in the patient spirit of the great fisherman Jiang Taigong. For the record, it was a rod he had made with Crafting — a sturdy branch for the pole, and for the line, silk spun from silkworm cocoons the monkeys had given him.

Serviceable enough, if you set aside the lack of a float, the single most important part of a rod. Without one, he couldn't read the moment of a bite.

Tch... that is a pretty fatal flaw.

What kind of people were they, after all? The people of Baedal— no. The people of the Safe Zone, packed solid with teamwork.

There was always a way.

Bubbles broke the surface. The sea otter, sunk to the bottom, kept watch underwater, and right on cue a fish glided in beneath the surface.

Easy. This is only the start.

The fish studied the bait. To spark its interest, Minhyuk gave the rod little tugs, pretending the bait ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was alive, and at last the fish began to nibble, bit by bit.

Now?

No. Not yet. The signal hadn't come. He had to wait for the proper moment.

Which was — precisely —

A tap. Then another. The sea otter, down in the water, rapping his leg.

"Now!"

The instant the signal reached him, Minhyuk heaved the rod up with everything he had. The surface shattered, and a fish came up with the line. His first catch, at last.

And a skill to go with it.

Oh. A decent skill, in its way.

"Beautiful teamwork."

"Hoe—"

Minhyuk traded a light high five with the sea otter, then came up onto the sand with the fish he had caught himself. From here on, it was time for the knife and the cutting board to earn their keep.

He parted bone from innards in rough, practiced strokes. A part-time job at a sashimi house in his broke college years had taught him the basics of dressing a fish. He salted it, threaded it onto a wooden skewer, and sent it straight to the campfire. Turn the skewer slowly, let every side cook through, and—

There it was. Open-flame grilled fish, so fine that the sight of it alone set his mouth watering. Minhyuk stared at it for a long, blank moment.

"M-meat..."

Nearly three months since he had been stranded on the deserted island, and meat for the first time. Not fruit juice — meat, lush with its own juices.

He wrestled the rising feeling down and took a great bite.

"Ah... dear god..."

Bliss. Anything beyond that would have been extravagance: rich fat drawing out a savoriness at the very limit, clean salty flesh in harmony with it, and over the top a faint perfume of flame. The three of them made a perfect trio.

The sort of flavor that sends the tears running, you might say.

"Khem. Ah. Got a little too into it."

Minhyuk cleared his throat, sheepish, and looked around. How many mouths were there in the Safe Zone? Eating something this good alone didn't sit right.

"Kids, come try some grilled fish."

He held out the white flesh and offered it around, but the members of the Safe Zone had nothing much to say about it.

"Kkureureung...?"

"Kkuruk... kkuruk-kkuruk...?"

"Hm? The guts? I was going to throw those out, but... that'll do for you? The grilled part tastes better, though, doesn't it?"

"Kkureung-kkureung—"

"Yeah, all right. Eat whatever you want."

The meerkats cared only for the innards. The monkey vassals were indifferent even to those.

"Hoo— hoo— here, try a bite."

"Mm-mm. Don't wanna. Elia's gonna eat bananas."

Elia was bananas, full stop. Ah. Right — elves were vegetarians.

"Heh. Then there's nothing for it."

The grilled fish everyone else refused would simply have to be monopolized by yours truly. And so Minhyuk was deep in a trance of an eating show when a chime rang overhead, and he paused mid-chew.

A message window had risen over his head.

...Huh?

A new class?

They trying to license me as a proper fisherman?

He opened his status window without a second thought.

A newly added class. But why a name like that?

"R-Reverence? What is that?"

He frowned and stared, and a detailed window soon followed.

"...Huh?"

Bewildering. What was this, really? A being worshipped by followers? What had happened, and how?

"Hmm."

Minhyuk gazed at the status window and turned it over in his own way. There was, in fact, one thing that occurred to him.

"Ukki... ukkikki...?" (Your Majesty... is there anything you need...?)

He glanced aside, and a vassal monkey was already down on its knees. Thinking about it, that tracked.

From the monkeys' point of view, I'm no different from a god, am I?

For one thing, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a being further along the biological ladder than they were. For another, he had utterly crushed tree-climbing, the very thing they took as their pride. And then there was honey, their favorite treat after bananas. The moment they asked, he had taken back the honey a terrifying bear had stolen. From what the monkey vassals told him, the little ones were beside themselves with joy.

Mm. That was more than enough to be worshipped for.

You reap what you sow. Some harvest.

And the more followers he gained, the higher his Faith Level would climb, and the more authority skills he would receive. From here on, he would have to clear the monkeys' subquests right on schedule.

"All right. Let's have a look at the skill."

Minhyuk brought up the skill window.

"...?"

Good lord. He had assumed it was the sort of blessing that merely left you lucky for a day.

"A-all parameters up thirty percent?"

Parameters and stats were different numbers. More precisely, as he understood it, stats sat as a subcategory inside the larger frame called parameters.

Which meant that for the Awakened, beyond strength, agility, senses, stamina, and mana, there were attack power, penetration, critical chance, attack speed, movement speed, reaction speed, evasion, counters, presence — countless parameters besides.

And this raised every one of them by thirty percent? For twenty-four hours? And it could stack with other buffs?

Even a complete outsider to the Hunter world could see it was an absurdly broken skill. Used properly, it ought to let him clear a subquest.

"Elia, c'mere a second."

"Hm? Why?"

Minhyuk reached a hand over Elia's head and wrung ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out his mana. A golden radiance spilled from his palm.

"Uuung?"

"Boss! I'm suddenly super confident!"

Elia clenched her small, plump fists. It had taken, all right. But that wasn't the end of it.

"Wanna try this, too?"

"Yeah! Okay!"

Elia ate the Five-Color Banana Salad he had made earlier in the day.

Elia had already been eating bananas steadily, drawing her mana reserves upward. Now, under Blessing, that mana had been amplified by forty-five percent. All that remained was the test.

"Elia, think you can use that skill from before one more time? On a living thing that isn't me."

"Yeah! I can!"

Elia was good. Minhyuk was good.

He sent every other member of the Safe Zone off to the monkeys' home ground. They were due back in five minutes.

"Kkureung, if you come back and I'm frozen solid like a trophy, you've gotta look after Elia till I wake up. You guys too. Got it?"

"Kkureung—!"

A razor-sharp salute.

"Ukki—!"

Approval all around. Time to begin the experiment in earnest.

"Ready?"

"Yeah!"

Minhyuk pointed at a fly buzzing along near the Safe Zone.

"Use the skill on that fly. Just that fly."

"Okay!"

Elia clenched both fists and sucked in a sharp breath.

The message rose with grim ceremony. Nothing else changed.

"...?"

Minhyuk stole a glance at the sky. The sun still blazed overhead. For a heartbeat he thought the surge of mana had Sealed it for more than twenty-four hours —

"Boss! I did it!"

Fortunately, no.

"Nice work! That's a real merchant."

"Hehe, I know, right?"

Elia had cast the skill on the fly alone, exactly as he had told her. Friend and foe could be told apart now.

All that remained was to see how far Seal's power had been amplified.

"Boss, Elia did good, right?"

"Course. You were amazing."

"Then can I eat a banana dipped in honey?"

Well. Of course. In between slipping her bananas.

Day one of the sealed fly.

"Hm. Still going strong."

The fly hung mounted in empty air. It had blown past twenty-four hours.

Forty-five percent more mana, and Elia was on an entirely different level.

Day two of the Seal.

"Kkureung...?"

Kkureung cocked his head at the fly, the question written all over his face. When is that thing coming loose?

Yeah. It was about time it came back.

Day three.

...Not yet?

Day four.

...Still?

Day five.

...Still?

And then, at long last, day six.

A thin buzz, and the fly — finally free of Seal — darted off into the jungle. The skill's power was confirmed. Even that giant bear would stay mounted a good five hours, no trouble at all.

The campfire flared, and Minhyuk immediately threw in every ingredient he had and set to making the food.

"Boss."

"Yeah?"

"Is it Kkureung's birthday today? Why'd you make so much?"

"Not a birthday. We're going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out tonight. That's why I'm making a spread."

"Going out? What's that?"

"Hmm. A picnic?"

"Really? Wow! I love picnics!"

"Oh, and today we're doing a zoo visit, too."

"A zoo?"

"Yep. We're gonna go look at the bear sleeping in the woods. And grab an SS-rank mineral for a souvenir while we're at it."