Being a Saintess Is Actually a Men-Only Job

I had always tried to live a life that was useful to others.

From the time I was a kid, watching war movies lit such a fire of patriotism in me that the moment I graduated high school, I applied to become a non-commissioned officer.

Of course, after four years of nothing but getting screwed over, I was discharged out of sheer spite.

So the next thing I set my sights on was the police — the staff of the people, or whatever.

"Another fail on the written exam...?"

My head, admittedly, was as bald as it was empty, and I failed that written test time after time.

After that, the final career I chose was firefighter — protector of citizens.

Back then I had plenty of other options, but I deliberately ignored every one of them.

Because I still wanted a job where I protected people.

"Aaaagh!!!"

"S-someone's injured over here!"

But on the day of the physical fitness exam, my hamstring tore clean open, and just like that, I failed the firefighter exam too.

"Son of a bitch."

Now then, time for a pop quiz.

What should a high school dropout with a broken body — a discharged staff sergeant of a loser — do with his life?

"Hey! Get over here and haul this away."

"Yes, sir! Right away...!"

The correct answer is...

A sanitation worker who hauls off the monster corpses the Hunters leave behind.

"Nnngghh!"

When you think about it, it's actually a step below being a janitor.

How much do you value a five-day, forty-hour workweek and government-led labor reforms, huh, human?

"Haaah... I'm gonna die..."

But we get none of that.

In the early days of the crisis, whenever a Tower collapsed and monsters came pouring out, it was the civil servants — firefighters, police, soldiers — who handled the cleanup behind the Hunters.

But once mana contamination sent the mortality rate of those public servants skyrocketing, the government panicked and issued a blanket deployment ban.

So then — who gets stuck with this dogshit job?

"Me! Pick me!"

Correct answer!

Your prize: an orc brain-water soaking and a full weekend of overtime!

"Aigoo, goddamn it."

Sludge from monster corpses caked over every inch of my body. A flimsy protective suit that couldn't stop a paper cut.

And to top it off, the pitying looks from the Hunters.

My official job title: "Special Public Contract Worker, Monster Disposal."

Monster Disposal Special, for short.

Just as there's an unwritten rule that anyone with a balanced stat spread is trash, this was a trash job done exclusively by trash people like me. That's the best way to put it.

"Captain! Three orc corpses processed!"

"Good."

The final resting place where life's defeated drifters with nowhere left to go all gather. The expendables on the front line, shielding ordinary people from the mana and stench radiating off monster corpses.

That's me.

Well, sometimes a shop owner nearby would hand me a soda as thanks, and in those moments I felt kind of proud.

It made me happy to know that even someone like me was of some use to society.

- Kworrgh...!

"An... an orc!!! One of the orcs is still alive!!!"

"What?"

But those idle thoughts were shattered by a coworker's desperate scream.

- KWORRRGGGHH!!

"Th-those damn Hunters — what are we supposed to do if they can't even finish off their monsters properly?!"

"D-don't look at me! Run!"

The orc's roar — the kind of voice that could turn a grown man into mincemeat with sheer raw strength — sent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every one of us Monster Disposal workers into a panicked scramble for the exits.

"Wow, they're fast as hell when it counts..."

My coworkers, who normally moved like sluggish old tortoises, were now executing a reverse charge at speeds that left rabbits in the dust the second things went sideways.

Well then, I guess it's about time for me to run too—

"S-some... somebody... h-help... me..."

"Ah, for fuck's sake."

Just as I turned without a shred of regret to bolt, a faint moan snagged me by the ankle.

People seriously never listen, I swear.

I told you — no entry until corpse disposal is complete, even after the subjugation ends!

"Save... me... sob... please..."

"..."

A quick once-over told me the voice belonged to a girl in her teens.

A pretty young thing still in her school uniform.

She looked like fate itself had destined her to spend her glory days soaking up her youth, living the sweet life in a way I never would...

- Krugh!

"Eeek?!"

...except right now she was too busy whimpering in terror, legs buckling under the glare of the dying orc.

"Hey, kid. Can you hear me?"

"...!"

In the end, I crawled my way around behind her and, keeping low so the orc wouldn't spot me, whispered to her.

"From now on, don't make a sound, and do exactly what I say. Got it?"

"Yes...!"

"Take my hand."

Gulp.

I clasped her tiny, trembling hand and began shuffling away in a slow duck-walk.

That orc couldn't be in good shape either.

If we could just quietly slip out of its attack range, then the Hunters could handle the rest...

"WAAAAAHHH!!!!"

- Krurgh?!

"Oh, you absolute jackass."

So much for that — some balding geezer just thoughtfully threw out a taunt.

And now he's running off just fine on his own, of course.

- KRAARGH!

Naturally, the enraged orc's gaze swung toward the closest target. Us.

"M-Mister...!"

"Go. Now."

Shove.

I shoved the girl's back, forcing her along, and stepped forward to face the orc alone.

"W-wait! Why on earth would you—!"

"Shut your mouth and get the hell out of here, I said!!!"

"...Sob."

I know this looks like one of those cringey self-sacrifice scenes, but it's really not.

Look at it through cold utilitarian math: a hopeless, never-dated loser like me was going to die without ever having held a girlfriend anyway — a net loss of exactly one person.

But if that girl grows up, gets married, and has even one baby? That's a net gain of two.

In other words, this is a gloriously broken loot-trade event: trading in one worthless common item for two rare drops. Pure profit.

"Your dick's three centimeters, you ugly bastard!"

- KRRRAAAAGH!!!

Scared, you ask?

I'll let my lemonade-soaked pants answer that one for you.

THUD. THUD. THUD!!!

"Ha..."

A vibration like a giant subwoofer pounding spread through my racing heart.

The orc, face twisted like some demon, completely ignored the girl in her school uniform and charged straight at me.

- Mister...!!!

Yes, that's right — you're going to grow up, get married, have lots of babies, and serve your country.

People with superior genes like that are the ones who need to fix the birth rate I keep dragging down.

- KRRRAAAAWR!!!

"Oh yeah?! You feeling lucky, big guy?!"

As the orc closed the distance and hefted its club overhead, I refused to be outdone — I gripped my shovel in both hands and swung.

"I am the Shoveling Master of Yongho-dong!!!!"

- KWORGH!!!!

CRUNCH.

And so, the weapons of two warriors crossed.

"Never seen that ceiling before."

When I opened my eyes again, all I could see was a space drenched in white.

"Whooah..."

A translucent blue window shimmered into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠existence before me.

Saintess... men only? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Don't tell me... this is the Awakening that Hunters go through?

If so, then by the grammar of the genre, what I'm looking at right now would be a status window, right?

Well then, let's have a look at these "Saintess" qualifications or whatever they are.

"...You've got to be kidding me."

Every single one of those requirements was a slap in the face of common sense.

Couldn't they just pick literally anyone else for this...

The status window answered my doubt as if it had been waiting for the question.

"I dodged having kids by palming this off on someone else and dying, thanks for asking?"

"I'm not the great person you seem to think I am."

"What would you even know."

"[Everything about you.]"

"..."

"[Despite never once being loved ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in your entire life, you freely gave your love to others.]"

"Come again..."

"[Each time a dream collapsed, you didn't. Instead, you set out to find yet another way to help people.]"

"..."

"[Even in your final moment, you put someone else's life above your own.]"

"..."

"[Who among us could look at you and say you are not a saintess?]"

"I'M A MAN!!!"

"[If it tastes good, it's a woman.]"

"You unhinged piece of—"

This status window looks more dangerous than the orc.

"[You have one mission.]"

"[Protect the good, and punish the wicked.]"

"That's two things, isn't it?"

"[...You have three missions.]"

"[Protect the good, punish the wicked, and stream on the internet.]"

"What's with the last one, you little shit. Why did the list get longer?"

"[My personal taste... I mean, it's missionary work.]"

"Unbelievable."

Anyway, I'm pretty sure I just got scammed by a con artist.

"[But if it means saving even one person, you would gladly walk that path, wouldn't you?]"

"..."

"[I will grant you the power and the duty to save others.]"

"[Rush to the rescue of those in danger before anyone else can, and burn to ash the fallen who have been consumed by evil.]"

"[Protect everything good in this world, and strike down everything wicked.]"

"...There are plenty of better people than me out there."

"[Ordinary people will not endure such cruel hardship.]"

"[Anyone other than you would crumble and despair before a trial of that magnitude.]"

"F...fine. I'll do it..."

"[Besides, I'd wanted to assign the shady late-night streams to someone, and dumping that on an innocent person would just be cruel, wouldn't it?]"

"You little—"

"[Then... I'm counting on you.]"

"..."

An ordinary person would probably have been overjoyed at this second chance handed to them after death.

A powerful class no one had ever heard of, plus a special mission, no less.

But my heart was heavy.

What if I took on this class and failed to properly protect the people?

...What if it would've been better in someone else's hands?

"[I have no one but you.]"

"Haah... fine. Fine! I'll fall for it just this once."

When this insufferable window is dead set on believing in me, what choice do I have?

All I have to do from here on out is produce results worthy of this power.

"Now this is a ceiling I recognize."

Waking from a dream inside another dream — is this what they call a lucid dream within a dream?

JIGGLE.

"Wh... huh?"

Hold on. Am I still not fully awake or something?

There are two cushions wobbling against my chest...

BOUNCE.

Holy crap. They're mine. They're actually mine.

A weight so heavy that if I didn't keep my back perfectly straight, these lumps of fat would leave me hunched over for life.

Which means... when exactly did these grow in?

"W-wait a second..."

Even my voice is off somehow.

It's... it's coming out thin and delicate and—

"I need to find a mirror. Now."

Tap-tap-tap!

Dragging my body — whose balance had been completely rewritten — out of the room, what greeted my eyes was...

"What the..."

Long, lustrous hair that gleamed like spun gold.

Uncanny crimson eyes framed by long lashes.

And, from the sensual curves of her body on down, the face of an absolutely stunning woman.

"Unbelievable."

Anyone with eyes can tell she built me to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her exact taste!