Commission: Kill. Reward.

According to Luagwen, every cult has its own god it worships. To me, they just seemed like idiots and morons, but at least it was good news that the spammer messaging me and the guy in front of me weren't on good terms. Our goals aligned.

"Hmm…."

The first other evil god worshiper I'd ever faced had zero intimidation factor. If anything, he looked pathetic.

"His eyes are fucked up."

But that creepy, crawling revulsion rising from somewhere originated from those eyes. Good thing Charlie and Kiara hadn't been baptized. If they'd felt this, they'd probably be breakdancing from disgust.

At least we weren't too late….

The immature me from 35 seconds ago—otaku who'd only learned about the outside world from books—sometimes fantasized about that stuff. Showing up with a bang to save someone in danger. I'd thought comic-book heroics like that never happened in real life.

If I were in this situation, I'd fall head over heels for my savior.

My grand entrance. Charlie looked terrified, so my timing was perfect. Lucky kid. No visible injuries. He'd been shaking, but his eyes widened in relief when he saw me. And standing in front of Charlie was…

"Kiara?"

A face I'd only seen on the novel's cover, but I knew it instantly. Different from the illustration, but way prettier—with that silver hair—it screamed protagonist treatment.

No wonder she wasn't at the orphanage. Kidnapped, huh.

Two kids tied up and trembling? I could guess the situation without the backstory. We'd almost gotten a premature ending before the story even started.

Stay calm.

Unexpected, but actually a boon. Kiara was the world's top munchkin. In her fourth regression, she'd have insta-killed back-alley thugs like this without getting captured. Her being helplessly trapped here proved she was still a first-timer, pre-regression noob.

If I just rescued Kiara and Charlie like this, Luagwen's image could upgrade from total trash to "saves kids in danger" tsundere-trash. Massive progress…!

"Shasha. You owe me big time. For real."

A true master healer eliminates the cause of death. Turning four guaranteed deaths into zero? Peak doctor vibes. Just.

"That's the plan anyway."

I gathered mana into my fist again. Still my only reliable tactic. But with a 100% win rate so far. 1-0 dominance. No point dragging it out after barging into his turf.

End it!

"And who the hell are you…?!"

"Shut up!"

The evil god worshiper—Malkor—charged at me fast. Skinny as hell, but mana-enhanced body was mutual. No martial arts training, so just a straight, honest punch—but I was faster to compensate.

Direct hit. I felt his trembling flesh, heard the dull thud clearly.

…He's fine?

Fast, sure. But not enough.

"Flashy attack."

Even with my fist in his face, Malkor grinned. His lip twitched, the creepy texture under my fingers sending chills. Then his fist filled my vision—

Blackout.

A few minutes before facing Malkor…

Last gasp of a dying man, huh… These past few days, I'd been savoring new sensations constantly. Even now.

Time ticking down, but my body felt lighter than ever. Lighter than any moment in my life. But I couldn't bask in it forever. This was enemy HQ—numbers were disgustingly high.

"It's just one girl anyway! Die! Die! Die!"

Thud.

"Die! Die…."

Thud.

"Pl-Please… spare me…."

"…I get why people go nuts for martial arts now."

In my past life, I never watched sports. Lying in the hospital, seeing people hustle made me depressed and pissed. But moving my own body? Refreshing as hell. Barbaric maybe, but dopamine surged like crazy.

As my pounding heart settled, Luagwen dropped that out-of-nowhere line. Spot-on if she meant to calm me. Casual but heavy, unexpected but predictable.

"Normal people feel that way."

Obviously I did too. Sudden gender swap didn't rewrite my common sense. Different genre or not.

"About sacrifices…?"

I'd guessed since she told me to keep people alive. Surprised she hadn't mentioned it sooner.

With her patience….

Sweet request in thought only. Kiddo's so sweet.

"What if not?"

"Got it…."

This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠matched the novel perfectly. All villains suffered side effects from borrowing evil gods' transcendent power. Luagwen gained lifespan and health but paradoxically withered like a corpse at the end.

One fix: periodic sacrifices as demanded. For worshipers, sacrifices were inescapable constraint and duty.

"Guess chicken instead of pheasant it is."

Explained why Luagwen hadn't said shit storming in here. Kids? I wouldn't agree… so she picked guilt-free options.

"Well… if there's another way, sure."

"Then…."

"…No choice then."

No ethics debates here. Lifespan dropped again. Wasting dozens of days on trash mobs? My reality.

"Not expecting god-tier power."

"…How?"

I pulled the knife from my pocket. Couldn't channel mana into weapons yet, so no combat use—but I wasn't into bare-handed throat-slitting as a hobby.

"What prayer?"

….

….

Shasha. Am I dead right now?

Damn, fresh possession blues? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Life flashing before my eyes to minutes ago. Malkor's office had two holes now. One my entry, the other from me getting smashed in.

Almost bit it.

"Real fighting's no joke."

Compared to hospital pain, wall-smashing felt dignified. First mana use had me cocky near-superhuman, but first real hurdle crushed that delusion.

Dizzy….

His mana outclassed mine. Yet losing meant massive experience gap elsewhere.

"Didn't expect a fight this soon."

If possible, I'd wuxia-train ten years first. But reality said no.

"Prayer?"

Her voice helped me hold it together. Malkor smirked, thinking he had the edge, but didn't rush to finish me. Hesitating between me and Charlie maybe. Boring bland food vs. tastier but riskier?

Meanwhile, Charlie and Kiara…

Would've been best if they'd bolted.

Frozen solid? Impressive kids holding sanity. With Malkor's speed, half-assed escape while tied would've been worse.

Better this way.

Ideally, munchkin protag snaps fingers and wipes 'em. But she couldn't go all-out—ironic, letting me.

Non-priests can't distinguish worshipers anyway. Evil god power? Yeah, that guy's using it. Done.

"…I offer all this to my god."

Too grandiose for an atheist like me. But even dry prayer worked—mana surged wildly. Sand in veins, chills everywhere.

"…You first."

Malkor closed in, grasping the prayer's meaning. Priority set.

"All talk."

Dizzy from the hit, but mana not depleted. Luagwen's authority boosted body, right? Compensate power gap, I'd win.

Same as before. Still faster, hit first. Shatter him—victory.

Got him?

Louder crack pierced ears, but Malkor stood. Legs firm, eyes locked on me. Too close.

Authority kicked in?

Punch weight unchanged. Can't fall for same trick twice. He pressed on, my extended arm buckled—

Meanwhile, I swung the knife full-force with my other hand. His fist didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slow. Right there.

Dead again?

Too pissed to close eyes. So I saw it clearly.

"…!"

"…!"

That instant—Malkor's fist vanished.

Sliced off?

Arm gone. Balance wrecked. Opening born.

His punch dropped, vision cleared—his panicked face crystal.

Mine probably same. Everything slowed. Missing arm reappeared mid-air, fist heading for his own face. All instant.

My knife slashed his throat. Legs buckled.

Done.

Gushing blood formed just two words. Clear demand. Nice.

Damn.

So… these letters are the Evil God.

No backing out now. Used its power—

Stopped thinking.

"Gives me chills…."

Even throat-slashed, Malkor's eyes clear. Staring blankly, unextinguished.

"Charlie, Kiara!"

"Y-Yes!"

"…."

"Close your eyes."

If killing's the way to survive, glad first was him. …Won't haunt dreams, right?

"Wait… last words…."

"Die."

Hand shook, but briefly. Real end.

Blood neatly forming letters looked so surreal, it made accepting easier. Magic, gods, murder, crime everywhere—this neighborhood's norm.

"Both of you. Let's go home."

Missing home.