Another Spoiler
The last thing I remembered was the moment Mammon drove his long, awl-like arm through my heart.
The eerie, horrific sensation of my heart bursting remained vivid inside my head, and the feeling of my body turning cold and sinking into water still lingered in my memory.
I also seemed to have briefly glimpsed Goddess Lilia appearing before me and then vanishing.
And then.......
There was comfort.
Such deep comfort.
A soft, peaceful feeling without any pain, unhappiness, or fear wrapped my entire body warmly.
Just as I was thinking I didn't want to wake from that hazy bliss.
[It's done. You'll be all right now.]
A gentle voice reached my ears.
In that unreal sensation where I couldn't tell if it was a dream or a vision, I raised my head at that voice, like an auditory hallucination.
I felt a woman holding me in her arms.
I saw several pairs of wings extending from her back.
The wings on the right were a sacred, dazzling white, and the wings on the left were a black so revolting just to look at.
And strangely, I saw one of those black wings tremble faintly before it slowly began turning the same white as the right side.
What was this?
Was this another one of those world-destroying visions shown by my prophecy ability, activating on its own whenever it pleased?
I turned my gaze to look at the face of the being holding me.
But I couldn't see her face.
A dazzling golden light, blindingly brilliant, kept me from seeing the face of the being cradling me.
"Who........who are you?"
When I asked in a dazed voice, she stroked my cheek.
[That answer isn't mine to give. You have to give it, not me. What do you want me to become?]
What kind of nonsense was that?
Was she trying to start a Zen riddle?
"Where am I? Am I dead? Is this Hell? Heaven?"
[That too will depend on what you decide. Where do you want to be? Do you want to be in Hell? Do you want to be in Heaven?]
Wasn't that an obvious question?
"Heaven. I'd like it to be Heaven."
[Then that's how it will be. Amael. Remember this. Everything will change according to your choices. If you choose for it to be Heaven, it will be Heaven.]
She gave me a light kiss on the forehead.
[You who shall suffer alone from now on. Keep moving forward.]
The light began to grow thicker.
I flailed my arms.
"Who are you!! Who are you!!"
She never answered.
And then the next moment.
A sudden, eerie sense of reality abruptly crashed into me.
Hadn't my heart been clearly pierced?
So what was this?
This excessively vigorous body?
This nearly perfectly clear mind?
The moment common sense said it was impossible.
I found myself holding on to one hope.
Right.
So I died, didn't I?
I'd died once.
Mammon himself had descended and wrecked me, so my soul or whatever must have been shattered to pieces and then some.
Please.
When I opened my eyes, I wanted it to be the familiar ceiling of my studio apartment.
When I waved my hand around, I wanted it to grab the smartphone next to my pillow.
When I opened the window, I wanted cars and densely packed concrete buildings before my eyes.
Please, I beg you.
Korea.
It had to be Korea.........
"S-Saint!! Saint!!"
Ah.
No.
I closed my eyes and opened them again just in case, but doing that didn't change the scene in front of me.
Old Man Yodel.
I could see Old Man Yodel.
And behind him I could see the holy knights of the Order of Grace standing arrayed in formation.
I could see the weeping eye emblem engraved on their armor clearly and unmistakably.
Ah.
It wasn't Korea.
I hadn't managed to die.
No.
Mammon had pierced my heart.
So dying would be the normal outcome, wouldn't it?
Why was I still alive?
No, why!!
"Saint!!"
"O Saint!!"
"O Prophet of Grace!!"
"Praise Lilia!!"
Looking at the scene of mass worship I hadn't experienced in a long time, I felt more dumbfounded than happy.
No, seriously—Mammon himself descended and turned me into a donut and I still didn't die. What exactly did they expect me to do about that?
What the hell did I have to do to die!!
Should I have been happy?
Should I have been depressed?
Just as I was staring blankly at Old Man Yodel, unable to tell which myself—
"Saint. I think you should go see Her Highness first."
Old Man Yodel wiped away tears and extended his hand toward me.
"She says she has matters to discuss regarding the maintenance of order in the Scrap Yard and the cleanup. Are you well enough to go?"
Hearing those words, I finally remembered.
Right.
I'd gotten into this mess after inciting the workers and calling a general strike, hadn't I?
I let out a long sigh and rose from where I lay.
I'd failed to die again.
The Fragment of the Evil God, too.
And this time too.
Why couldn't I even die on my own terms?
But anyway.
Since I'd failed to die and was still alive, I had to clean up the mess I'd made, didn't I?
"Please lead the way."
Because I didn't want the workers of this city to suffer.
***
Almene and Iomene maintained cold, composed expressions even when they saw me, not so much as twitching an eyebrow.
They were surely glad to see me inside, but the atmosphere of the place where they sat was not one that permitted warm greetings.
Inside the great assembly hall of Town Hall—the place where all administrative and political decisions of the Scrap Yard were made—the factory owners and the Labor Theorists were currently gathered,
along with figures from the Pantheon and the Imperial Household who appeared to have been brought by Iomene and Almene, creating a suffocatingly heavy atmosphere.
"So you're saying we are the fundamental cause of this entire situation? Mr. Bias?"
"That's right! I said it's your fault!! You law-breaking traitor!! I always knew you Labor Theorists were rotten, but never in my life did I expect you'd join hands with Demon Worshippers!! And don't use my name! Call me Mayor!"
"Demon Worshippers were found among the factory owners too!! Yet you ignore all of that and pin the blame solely on the Labor Theorists? Truly admirable! You might as well gouge your eyes out and throw them away, Mr. Bias. They clearly stopped functioning long ago anyway!!"
"Karl Lenaro!! You miserable son of a bitch!! Call me Mayor!! How dare you—!!"
"Enough!! Enough!! Both sides be quiet!"
Only after Gerson, the High Priest of the Silence Order whom I'd seen during my heresy inquisition, raised his voice loudly did both sides finally shut their mouths, but the murderous atmosphere flowing between them didn't easily dissipate.
"Your Imperial Highness, Princess. Esteemed guests of the Pantheon. And the inquisitors of the Black Fortress. The man before your eyes—Karl Lenaro, ringleader of the Labor Theorists—is someone who has violated imperial law numerous times. He has committed countless acts of terrorism against public authority and has worked to destroy lawfully operated enterprises."
The mayor of the Scrap Yard, whom Karl Lenaro had persistently called Mr. Bias, pointed at Karl Lenaro and spoke in a polite, cultivated voice.
"Furthermore, while I too lack a precise grasp of the details, I heard that the Saint was attacked and fell while he was among these people during the appearance of the Demon Worshippers. Then is it not obvious? They are the ones who joined hands with the Demon Worshippers and attempted to murder the Saint. Arrest them immediately—on charges of heresy or whatever else. Execute them."
"Bias, you bastard!! This is a frame-up! We did not try to murder the Saint!!"
The mayor ignored the outraged Karl Lenaro and looked at me as I entered the room, smiling brightly.
"Saint! Your timing is excellent! Please testify! Were you not attacked while you were among the Labor Theorists? Please tell us that fact!! Should the truth of this affair not be made clear?"
Mayor Bias looked at me with eyes full of hope, and Karl Lenaro turned his gaze to me with an expression that said he didn't know what expression he ought to wear.
The last time we'd met.
The relationship between Karl Lenaro and the Labor Theorists and me hadn't been particularly pleasant.
I'd told them what would happen to them, and they'd pushed back against my words.
And while that was happening, Mammon suddenly barged in and went on a rampage, leading to all of this.
Karl Lenaro and the Labor Theorists briefly exchanged glances and whispers, then he rose from his seat, looked at me, and opened his mouth.
"Saint. You know, don't you? You understand, don't you? How the workers of this city have lived. How they've been treated."
He spoke with visible difficulty.
"We had no choice but to rise up. I believe that you, of all people, can understand that our intentions were pure. You, who declared a general strike for the workers!!"
"Pure. I question whether lawbreaking scum like you even have the right to utter that word. The situation is exceedingly simple. These Labor Theorist terrorists made a contract with demons in order to destroy the Scrap Yard and its enterprises, and as a result they attacked the Saint, who had come to help this city with a pure heart!"
Mayor Bias rose from his seat and pointed at Karl Lenaro and the Labor Theorists.
"Arrest those terrorists! Those lawbreakers who tried to destroy the empire's sound enterprises and tear down the rule of law—they are the true cause of this entire situation! If we just arrest them, it ends!!"
The Labor Theorists glared at the factory owners and Mayor Bias with seething, murderous expressions, but that was all they could do.
Iomene and Almene looked at me.
"Is that true? Saint? You must clarify the facts for us to be able to make a judgment."
"Karl Lenaro and his people have indeed been wanted for violating imperial law for a long time. Is it truly the case that they made a contract with demons? We believe that you, the Saint who saw it all from the closest vantage point, know better than anyone."
Everyone looked at me.
Karl Lenaro and the Labor Theorists looked at me with anxious expressions, and the factory owners looked at me with the faces of those who had already won.
I didn't answer.
From the perspective of the Labor Theorists trying to carry out a revolution, the situation couldn't have been worse.
Public forces had suddenly swept in and seized control of the entire city, after all.
The Imperial Household and the Pantheon had probably never been on the Labor Theorists' side.
Of course they wouldn't be.
These were people who went around shouting that religion was the opiate of the workers, openly violated imperial law, and carried out terrorism against factory owners who had lawfully established and run their enterprises.
With a few words from me.
Every last one of them would die.
Just moving my tongue a little would kill them all, but I didn't do it.
"I'd like to speak with Karl Lenaro and the Labor Theorists here. Could you arrange a room for a moment?"
***
A small room next to the meeting hall.
The Labor Theorists and I sat on the sofa in silence.
Iomene and Almene had questioned whether leaving me alone in a room with terrorists yet again was the right decision, but in the end they followed my opinion.
"Saint. We rose up for the workers. You know that, don't you."
Karl Lenaro, who had been maintaining the silence, carefully opened his mouth after a long while.
"We rose up because we could no longer stand by and watch those capitalist pigs treat people like parts and exploit them. Yes. That's right. We committed many illegal acts. Imperial law was never on our side to begin with, so we had no choice. You, who led the general strike and treated the workers while giving up sleep and food.......you must understand, don't you."
At those words, I couldn't help but give a bitter smile.
Though their methods were radical and extreme, their passion alone was utterly pure.
But I also knew all too clearly what kind of end that pure passion would ultimately lead them to.
"The Saintess of the White Order handed this to me."
I pulled out a neatly organized file I'd just received from Almene.
"The Mammon Followers were exposed so abruptly that they had no time to destroy the materials needed for running their organization, so all the evidence remained intact. They said that even lightly sweeping through the safehouses hidden above ground and the stronghold underground produced a flood of every kind of core evidence."
Mammon.
The followers of this greedy Demon King had run their organization exactly like a company.
They meticulously planned everything, aiming to maximize the harvest of Resentment with minimum expenditure.
Thanks to that nature, the documents explaining how they planned for the future were also left in pristine, well-organized condition, and the file in my hands was those documents.
I handed the file to Karl Lenaro and the Labor Theorists.
They carefully accepted the documents and began to read.
And soon.
Their eyes started widening.
"I, I would have become.......the director of a detention camp, taking the lead in monitoring countless workers and giving them brainwashing education?"
One of the Labor Theorists stopped reading and muttered in a trembling voice.
"I would have given the order to starve millions of workers to death?"
Karl Lenaro's voice was trembling too.
And that wasn't all.
"To increase steel production, I would've scraped up every piece of metal from every household and had them produce low-quality scrap iron? And in the process, I would've cut down every tree and destroyed the natural environment?"
"I would've incited teenagers and young children and subjected them to brainwashing education?"
"I would have had intellectuals humiliated and.......murdered right in the middle of the city in front of everyone?"
While everyone was quietly reeling in horror with trembling voices.
One female Labor Theorist raised her voice sharply.
"I would have isolated women and made them endlessly hate men, ultimately producing masses of social malignancies? That's impossible!! I—I'm someone who has worked harder than anyone for the women's liberation movement! There's no way I would commit such acts!!......."
Everyone seemed deeply shocked.
But what could I do about it.
"It would have happened exactly as written there. All of you. As a Seer, I guarantee it. Not a single letter wrong. It would have happened exactly that way."
That was the reality.