A Million-Won Consultation
After handing Vita over to Verdia, I headed back toward the entrance just as Vivian stepped out of one of the dream chambers, timing her exit almost perfectly.
"You're done already?"
"Already is a stretch. Lady Verdia's business wasn't with me — it was with the companion I brought."
"Ah, right."
Vivian nodded once, then glanced down at the watch on her wrist.
"It's a little early for a meal. Want to come up to my room for tea? I'm curious what you've been up to in the slums this past month, Oppa."
"Later."
"Why~!"
I gently pushed her forehead back as she clung to me.
"I have business with Lord Bishua."
"Well, can't argue with that."
The moment she heard it was a god I needed to see — not a person — Vivian dropped the subject cleanly and stepped away.
"Then after you're done?"
"That should be fine."
"Great. Hurry back, then."
"Yeah."
I started down the stairs, only for Vivian to trail after me again.
"You know the way?"
"Fortunately."
"And don't just follow anyone who offers you tea, okay?"
I gave a casual wave over my shoulder and left Verdia's temple for Bishua's.
Every priest I passed looked first at my face, then at the black robe wrapped around me. Most of them stopped mid-stride and muttered among themselves. The scraps of conversation that reached me weren't worth listening to.
Same as ever.
A little over a month later, Bishua's temple was exactly as I'd left it — which was no surprise. Personally, I liked the size of Bishua's temple in Oracle. It wasn't so absurdly large that the stairs alone would double my daily step count.
"Excuse me."
I announced myself at the wide-open doors, but no answer came. The place was smaller than Verdia's temple, sure, but not small enough that my voice would necessarily carry all the way inside.
So I walked in, calling out a few more times as I went. Still nothing. I passed through the corridor Bishua had opened for me on my first visit and reached the innermost chamber without a single response.
"Should be fine to use this."
I dropped one million won — ten million Mora — into the bowl-shaped donation box I'd used once before. Converted back to Earth's price levels, that was roughly a billion.
The thick stacks of bills filling the box vanished, and a mirror-like portal bloomed into existence beside it. Considering the time it would take to travel between Oracle and Punkton the long way, the price was reasonable enough.
I pushed through the mirror portal and found Bishua cradling a new jewel, polishing it with single-minded focus.
"What is it this time?"
The portal sealed shut behind me. I dropped roughly onto the floor in front of him while he kept buffing the gem, even blowing on it for good measure.
"Do you charge separately for counseling, my lord?"
"I don't recall ever doing counseling."
"Is that so. Then I'm your first — how about a free sample?"
Bishua looked up from his jewel. His expression was not promising.
"You're probably the first and last person who'll ever talk to me like that."
"Unique beats common, doesn't it?"
"Mouth! Mouth! Mouth! Shut it. Your earnings are good enough that I'll make a spe-cial exception and do this counseling thing, so keep it short, keep it clean, and state your business. Now."
No matter how hard he furrowed his brow, that pretty-boy face carried zero authority. Authority doesn't come from looks alone, of course — but Bishua's personality put him about as far from dignified as a god could get.
"Can you form a contract with a dead person?"
"If they still have a soul, yes."
"Would this work?"
I pulled out one of the ordinary contract forms I used all the time. Bishua snorted.
"You think?"
"Fair point. If a soul could sign this, there wouldn't be much need for a contract in the first place."
Anything capable of physical force was already something other than a soul.
"About black mages—"
"Don't."
Jamie had seen them firsthand, so the reaction made sense — but still.
"Don't what?"
"You're about to say you want to learn black magic, aren't you?"
"I am interested."
"See? Let me be clear up front: the second you learn that stuff, the robe comes off. Got it?"
The way he laid down the law told me this was non-negotiable territory. A few questions occurred to me, but I decided to save them for Verdia. Bishua's patience was starting to show cracks across his face.
"That all?"
Not even close.
The last questions — the real reason I'd come to see him today — were still waiting.
"I formed a contract under the goddess Verdia's authority. Does a contract that uses a soul as collateral still hold after death?"
"Get out. Get out, you little shit."
Bishua's face twisted into something deeply unsettled, and he conjured a mirror portal.
"You're a real freak, you know that? You call us omnipotent, then turn around and question the whole premise. What is wrong with you?"
"I think there's a slight misunderstanding, my lord. I fully believe that beings as omnipotent as yourself have no trouble with such things. I was only asking whether I — even with a contract's power behind me — could actually hold a soul as collateral."
"Yes, you can! Yes!"
"I knew that from the moment you got annoyed."
"Get the hell out!!"
I still had a few questions left, but since they were the same god, I figured I could get the rest of the answers from Verdia. I bowed to Bishua — who looked about one second from detonating — and stepped back through the portal he'd opened.
The moment I was through, it slammed shut.
For a million-won consultation, the service left something to be desired — but if you counted round-trip transportation, it was a pretty solid deal.
The session had wrapped up early, but I'd already promised Vivian tea, so even if Verdia wasn't finished with Vita yet, it wouldn't be a problem.
Which is why I was on my way out, heading back to Verdia's temple, when—
"Hm?"
My eyes met those of a blond man who had just come up the stairs.
"Ahh. So you're the sewer guy."
He looked at my face for a moment, nodded to himself, and walked over.
"Here to offer tribute to Lord Bishua?"
He asked the question while looking me up and down — the kind of appraisal that made no attempt to hide itself.
"At least you dressed the part of a priest."
Apparently he'd finished his mental estimate and decided I was safe to ignore, because his tone turned even more high-handed than before.
"How much did you put in?"
An honest answer was one option. But that would have been boring. So I spread both hands wide.
"Ha. You crawled out of the gutter just to donate a measly hundred thousand Mora?"
I shook my head.
"A million? A million? Huh. You've been busy this past month."
I shook my head again.
"You little—?"
One eye narrowed. His hand shot out, aimed squarely at the back of my head. I had no intention of taking the hit.
"Huh. Dodging a senior's hand? This place has gone completely to—"
The man who'd been rolling up his sleeve and closing in stopped dead.
The reason was simple.
"You— you little bastard, are you serious…?"
The self-proclaimed senior glanced down at the silver pistol in my hand and swallowed hard.
"Senior."
"Shut up and put that away!"
"I'm afraid I can't do that. How about a bet instead?"
"What the hell is this lunatic saying?!"
Our self-appointed senior really needed to learn basic communication before he started taking bets.
"Put it a—"
A spark leapt from the muzzle. A solid, heavy kick traveled up my right arm.
"Aaaagh—?!"
A hole the size of a thumbnail opened in his thigh. Our self-proclaimed senior clutched the lead-punched leg and went sprawling across the pristine white marble.
"You shot me?! This— this crazy bastard actually shot me?!"
His lungs were impressive enough that the gunshot itself had to take a back seat. Listening any longer and I was going to put the next hole in his skull instead of his thigh, so I holstered the pistol and stepped up beside him while he screamed.
"The bet is simple. If Lord Bishua punishes me for this, you win. If he doesn't, I win."
"Wh-what?!"
Apparently he was ready to listen now. If he'd taken that attitude from the start, the muzzle never would have needed to speak.
"Loser does one thing the winner asks. Anything."
"Ghhhk?!"
I didn't care to hear any more of his noise, so I gently ground my heel into the hole in his thigh and shut him up.
"Next time we meet, let's do proper introductions."
"———!!"
His eyes were halfway to rolling back, so I lifted my foot off his thigh and turned away.
"H-he's coming out!"
"Who is it? Who?"
"Is that him? The one Gerdic kept calling the sewer rat?"
Outside, an enormous crowd of priests had gathered at the foot of the stairs.
"There was a gunshot inside."
"Tell us what happened!!"
"Don't tell me…?"
As I came down the steps, the crowd showed no interest in parting — if anything, they packed tighter. So I pulled Jamie's gift back out of my coat.
"Uh— uh-uh?"
"Is that— is that a—"
Bang!!
The pistol spat fire into the air, and the gathered priests ducked like pheasants spotting a hunter, heads pulled tight to their shoulders.
I kept descending, swinging the muzzle from the ceiling down toward one of the priests blocking the path.
"Eeeek?!"
"Aaaagh!"
"M-move! Get out of the wayyy!"
"He's insane! That madman definitely killed Gerdic!!"
The flock that had pressed in like sheep scattered like a ranch hit by a flood.
Before I headed back, I decided I should pick up a little gift for Jamie as well.