Change (3)

Change (3) — Hanmaum Guwon Cult, 1st Floor, 'Floor of the Unbelievers'

Even among just two humans, there is hierarchy. The rich and the poor. The beautiful and the ugly. It was no different in the Hanmaum Guwon Cult. A line had to be drawn between those who believed and those who could not yet bring themselves to. The believers needed to feel superiority and relief whenever they looked upon the unbelievers, and the unbelievers needed to feel envy and longing toward the believers. After all, every byproduct born from the friction between those two classes would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠become loyalty and submission flowing straight to the Cult Leader. In that sense, the unbelievers needed a harsher penalty. Continually crushing zombies was important, of course, but so was the faith that faithfully generated every hour. First things first — I needed an excellent brainwashing schedule to impose on the unbelievers by force.

"I—I believe! Cult Leader, I believe!"

Lee Gyeongmin's desperate prayer rang out in time with the sound of our footsteps coming down the stairs. With the way he kept sneaking glances at me, I couldn't help but snort. Not a single shred of visible 'proof of faith' anywhere on the man. That bastard really is a one-trick pants-wetter. He'd probably started this little performance the moment he heard us coming down, just so I would see it. Well, fine — I had come to put on a show of my own.

"Unbelievers, hear me!"

Jeong Shinwoo — now truly my loyal dog — raised his voice. Kiiiiiieeeeek— As if answering the cry echoing through the lobby, the zombies outside the barrier wailed in unison. The moment every eye in the room fixed on him, he spoke again.

"Though this place is no longer your land, our benevolent Cult Leader has taken pity on the unbelievers and granted you a small place of rest."

The faces of the unbelievers froze solid as they took in how completely Jeong Shinwoo had changed in an instant.

"However, while the Cult Leader permitted you a small space, he did not permit you to gorge yourselves like filthy swine!"

With Jeong Shinwoo's declaration, the food stores moved up from the third floor began floating into the air in bundles.

"Wh—what are you doiiiing! Han Guwoooon!"

"Silence, you filthy unbeliever!"

Even as Seong Gaeul screamed herself hoarse in fury, the food kept dutifully vanishing into my inventory. Into that space dominated by everyone's hollow despair, Jeong Shinwoo spoke once more.

"From this day forward, all unbelievers will observe regular prayer hours. And those who pray with all their heart and diligence will be granted a modest meal."

They would no longer have even the luxury of wallowing in denial and despair. There was no way out, and no room to rebel within. To survive, they would have to kneel before my statue and pray.

"B—but me! I've been praying this whole time!"

At Lee Gyeongmin's urgent protest, Jeong Shinwoo glanced my way. When I tilted my head slightly, his expression swelled with confidence.

"Rations will only be distributed for prayers offered with true sincerity! Put your heart into your prayers!"

"I—I was always sincere!"

Whether the praying had bored him or Jeong Shinwoo simply seemed like an easy target, Lee Gyeongmin snapped back at him, veins bulging.

"Gyeongmin."

"Y-yes! C-Cult Leader!"

"If you're unhappy, would you like to go outside?"

At the short question, Lee Gyeongmin's gaze drifted toward the exit. The horde of zombies still fervently pounding against the barrier. His own reflection staring back at him from their rotten pupils. I'd shown him all that already, and he still had the gall to talk back.

"Kiiiiieeeeeeeek!"

I dragged a single zombie inside the barrier with telekinesis. The thing thrashed as if clutched in a giant's hand, and I presented it directly in front of Lee Gyeongmin.

"Uuuh, uuuuuh—"

As Lee Gyeongmin staggered backward, I bound him in place with telekinesis as well. Skill Level 20 hadn't just ramped up the skill's destructive power — its multitasking capacity had climbed dramatically too. Like an orchestra conductor, my other hand pointed back outside the barrier. Another zombie came soaring in.

"Kiiiiieeek!"

"Kiiiiieeeeek!"

Two zombies began circling around Lee Gyeongmin in orbit. Unable to move so much as a finger, he hung his head low and trembled.

"What are you so scared of, Gyeongmin?"

"I'm s-sorry, Cult Leader!"

"Sorry for what, exactly?"

"...Huh?"

The time-honored gotcha sprang upon him. After rolling his eyes this way and that, he hurried to answer.

"I d-didn't put my whole heart into my prayers. P-please, just give me one more chance!"

"Kiiiiieeeek!"

"Uuuuuh! Pleeheeheease! I'm soorrryyy!"

His miserable wailing echoed through the unbelievers. This wasn't really about punishing Lee Gyeongmin — it was a warning aimed at the unbelievers who still hadn't opened their hearts to me. A warning that screwing around meant death.

"That's enough!"

Oh? The heroine makes her entrance? Seong Gaeul, unable to bear it any longer, shouted at me.

"Stop tormenting the wrong people and cut out this petty crap already!"

"Whoa, look at that backbone. You're back, Seong Tae-shik."

"...What did you just call me! Get those zombies out of here first, come on!"

That much ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was easy. The spirit of Seong Gaeul — hollowed out ever since her last meeting with Kang San — had finally returned. The moment both zombies were hurled back outside the barrier, Lee Gyeongmin's legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor.

"Piss yourself again and you die."

"Hiiiik! N-no! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Dragging his limp legs, Lee Gyeongmin crawled to the base of my statue and began to pray. I watched the scene with deep satisfaction, then addressed Seong Gaeul.

"And after I throw them out?"

"Talk to me."

"Why would I?"

"...What?"

I took a moment to savor Seong Gaeul's flustered face, then turned to Yoon Ayoung, who was glued to my side. She was already glaring at Seong Gaeul, eyes wide and brimming.

"Ayoung, what should we do with a woman that insolent?"

"Sh-she must die! I g-guess her age has made it hard for her to read the situation!"

"...You heard her."

Come to think of it, how old was Seong Gaeul again? Definitely not old enough to be called ancient — but that didn't exactly make Yoon Ayoung wrong. Seong Gaeul was, after all, the elder. Her face flushing crimson in an instant, Seong Gaeul ground her teeth until her lips went white.

"...Please."

"Hm? What was that? I can't hear you."

"...P-please give me time to speak with the Cult Leader. Alone."

It was a purely formal surrender — but a surrender was still a surrender.

"Fine. Once we finish what needs doing, I'll make time."

Besides, I had no real intention of refusing anyway. After a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brief affirmation, I touched 'Prayer Room' in the 'Religious Facilities' menu.

A prayer room didn't actually need four walls sealing it in. I had deleted every wall that marked the previous prayer room, after all — the only change now was a row of cushions laid out neatly beneath the statue.

It was a desperate stopgap: a prayer room needed to contain a statue to enjoy the subordination-boosting side effects, but a statue couldn't fit inside a building. It stings to spend the faith, but this will do for a start. With this, I'd laid the groundwork to force prayer on them while collecting the Prayer Room's benefits too.

I was honestly surprised the income had risen even by one. So that son of a bitch was at least going through the motions of praying. Right — this was what normal looked like. Ayoung, who had pumped my faith income up exponentially, had simply been the exception.

"Hehehe—"

I stroked her head, the way you'd pet a child who'd done well, and spoke.

"Ayoung, head on up. I'll be up soon."

"Yesss—"

Watching Yoon Ayoung climb the stairs meekly, I gave Seong Gaeul a nod.

"You too. Up."

"...Got it."

"Shinwoo, keep a tight watch on the unbelievers and make sure they're praying with genuine fervor."

"Leave it to me, Cult Leader!"

The Jeong Shinwoo who had once burst into tears without managing a single word to Kang San no longer existed. In ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his place stood nothing but a fox riding a tiger's back.

After whispering with Kim Eunbyeol for a good long while, Seong Gaeul let out a long breath and followed me up.

"Seo Taesan — no! You filthy, unclean unbeliever! Get on your knees before the Cult Leader, now! Do you not want to eat?!"

I climbed the stairs to the accompaniment of the fox faithfully carrying out her orders.

"I mean it! Even with all that muscle gone, you could starve for two days and survive! I saw it coming back when you strutted around flexing every day — that's why you became a filthy unbeliever!"

Hmm, that's less carrying out orders and more venting grievances, but it hardly mattered. So long as the job got done one way or another, I was a merciful Cult Leader, generous enough to embrace all things with an open heart.

Now then — what new way should I torment him this time? In the instant Seong Gaeul had raged at me, and in every moment she'd spoken with me since, the kiss mark blooming bright on my right cheek kept flickering at the edge of her vision.