This Isn't an E*otic Game?-Chapter 63: Red Flavor

The police seemed surprised by the sudden situation.

They reflexively drew their guns and clubs, but as expected, they couldn't swing or shoot them.

Of course not.

If they so much as scratch me, I wonder what will happen.

"This, this is a clear violation of public authority!!"

"To disregard the lawful execution of the empire’s laws and wield miracles like this is illegal!!"

Yeah.

That's right.

It’s illegal.

But, you know, when I was beating up the factory owners and barons in the capital, do you think it wasn’t considered an illegal act?

"Illegal? Well, I’ll just do it anyway."

"What?!......"

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

"......."

"Are you going to shoot me with a gun, beat me with clubs, drag me like a dog, and throw me into a concentration camp? Just like what you did to these countless workers?"

The police remained silent.

Yeah.

I get it.

It must be daunting.

I’m not someone you can touch easily.

I released the officer I had forcibly lifted into the air using time stop.

He collapsed to the ground, half-conscious from the strangulation.

"When I finish treating these people, and when no further treatment is needed, I will leave, even if you tell me not to. Until then, don’t try to stop me."

The police, supporting their unconscious colleague, glanced at me nervously and then retreated helplessly.

The patients and their families, who had gathered around me, began shouting as they watched the scene.

"Yeah!! Get out of here!! You filthy bastards!!"

"We're human too!! We have the right to be treated like humans and live like humans!!"

"Talking about expulsion!! When have the pharmaceutical companies and doctors ever cared about us!!"

Amidst the jeers and curses, the police helplessly retreated.

The workers seemed satisfied, but I felt something was off.

Logically speaking, someone came to treat the workers for free, without consuming any social resources, and that should be something they would appreciate, not try to expel them.

Moreover, touching me would provoke both the royal family and the temple, wouldn't it?

What are the upper classes of this city thinking, taking such measures?

"Saint!! My daughter!!"

Those thoughts faded away with the voice of a father urgently bringing his injured daughter in front of me.

Right.

Why should I bother with logic?

This is a place ruled by greedy monsters who grind up children for profit.

It’s very likely that the pharmaceutical companies and doctors felt threatened by the disruption to their monopoly in this city, so they sent the police after me.

"Don’t worry anymore."

I placed my hands on the child’s body and simply healed her.

Seeing his now healthy daughter, the father hugged her tightly and began to weep.

"Thank you. Thank you, Saint."

I patted the father's shoulder.

"Go home in peace. Your child won’t be sick anymore."

I knew I couldn’t keep this up for long.

I had to prevent my powers from growing by feeding off of faith.

But at least, for as long as I could, I was determined to do my best to save them.

My nature won’t allow me to stand by while others are suffering when I have the ability to help.

****

Most priests, clerics, and paladins would typically retreat when the police brought up the law and tried to expel them.

This city had never been particularly friendly toward religion, and there were no people who would try to preach while bearing the burden of breaking the law.

But this so-called Saint wasn’t leaving as easily as expected.

Moreover, a regular cleric might have been beaten up as a last resort to be expelled, but this Saint was such an important figure to both the royal family and the temple, so they couldn’t do that.

[This bastard!! Just leave already! Leave!!]

Mammon, frustrated, sent the police a few more times to try to expel the Saint.

"How many times do I have to tell you that being here is illegal! Free treatment is something only labor theorists should do!! And you even assaulted the police!! I will forcibly expel you! Leave the city!!"

The police tried to be as gentle as possible, attempting to cuff him and drag him out, knowing that using force would escalate the situation beyond control.

Of course, they failed.

The Saint, seeing the police attempting to physically subdue him, silently took off his belt and gripped it.

With a single swing of the belt, the police shields shattered, and he expelled the officers from the area with incredible strength.

The way he swung the belt was closer to that of a berserker than a Saint.

"Why are you still here, Saint? Just go back to the capital. There’s nothing to gain from healing these people."

As it became more difficult to forcibly drag him away, they tried a softer approach.

"You’re dirty and smell. You’ve barely eaten, haven’t bathed, and haven’t had a proper rest. I’ve arranged a seat for you in the express train’s royal cabin. You can even shower there. Go and clean yourself, eat, drink, and rest, then return to the Grace Church."

Of course, this didn’t work either.

"I told you, didn’t I? I won’t leave until I’ve treated these patients."

"Please, just go back to the capital. Why are you insisting on suffering here? If you go to the Grace Church, you’ll be treated much better."

"This is the right thing to do."

Mammon, feeling an impulse to personally tear apart the Saint’s mouth, resisted the urge.

The fact that he hadn’t yet called upon the paladins from the White Church or the temple indicated that Mammon hadn’t realized that he was being watched closely in the city.

He wasn’t doing this deliberately to provoke his own downfall.

Could it be that he’s just naturally pure and good-hearted, and that’s why he’s doing this?

[What kind of fool is this, pretending to be a Saint?]

Mammon couldn’t hide his astonishment.

Among the many chosen ones of the temple from 300 years ago, there was hardly anyone like this.

The Evil God had spouted nonsense about Asmodeus pretending to be a Saint, but Mammon could tell that this wasn’t Asmodeus.

One of the divine beings who fell to the mortal realm during the celestial war had definitely taken human form.

If that wasn’t the case, there was no way such an inherently good being could exist.

[How the hell am I supposed to expel this idiot who’s so excessively good?]

Assassination?

No, that’s not an option.

The royal family and the temple will be here faster than a bullet.

Exile?

That won’t work.

I can’t expel him with force, the soft approach won’t work, and shouting that it’s illegal doesn’t seem to faze him.

So how can I expel him?

One method came to Mammon’s mind.

[If I can’t drive you out by tormenting you, how about making the people around you suffer because of you?]

Making the people around him suffer because of his actions.

Mammon knew from experience that this method was particularly effective on pure-hearted individuals.

And this Saint, treating people in his city, was the most pure-hearted person Mammon had ever seen.

[What if I show how the workers around him are suffering because of him? How will you endure that?]

Peter, Anna, Jim, and Amy were in charge of setting up a free soup kitchen and distributing food to the people.

Despite their poverty, their kindness, shown when they gave me black bread before, was shining through again.

"Saint, please have some soup."

Having treated people for over 12 hours without proper rest, my mind was reaching its limit.

My body could be rested through body modification, but my mind wasn’t holding up.

Seeing me sigh from exhaustion, Anna offered me the soup and said that.

After drinking the soup, I lay down on the street to get a little rest.

There was no time to waste.

I planned to sleep for about an hour and get up quickly.

To prevent the Demon King’s power from growing any further, I couldn’t stay here for too long.

I had to leave soon, and before I did, I needed to treat as many people as possible.

As I rested, probably having just fallen asleep on the makeshift blanket the workers had found somewhere, I woke up to the sound of something breaking.

"Why... why are you doing this!!"

"I see you’re running a free soup kitchen. Something that labor theorists would be thrilled about. I highly suspect that you're one of them. We’ll have to arrest you and interrogate you."

The police were seen smashing the free soup kitchen.

But this time, the level of their weaponry was far different from the police I’d seen before.

Special forces in reinforced suits powered by steam engines surrounded the area, armed with rifles and electric shock batons, mercilessly beating and arresting people.

Seeing this, I quickly jumped up.

"What are you doing!!"

One of the officers, apparently the leader, glanced at me and grinned.

"We’re arresting those suspected of being labor theorists. Is there a problem?"

Peter, Anna, Jim, and Amy were being handcuffed.

I yelled out in fury.

"How is it a crime to open a free soup kitchen, feed the hungry, and treat the sick!!"

"Isn’t this exactly what labor theorists advocate? They shamelessly demand free welfare, claiming that useless trash like us should be fed with the city’s taxes. These scoundrels are preaching nonsense."

"I didn’t use a single penny of taxes!! Everything I’ve done was from my personal funds! So why is this suddenly a punishable act!!"

"Even if it was with your personal funds, your actions are empowering labor theorists and causing social unrest. You must be punished."

"Let Peter and Anna’s family go! Right now!!!"

As I unbuckled my belt and grabbed it, the police who had already been dealt with once by me flinched and stepped back.

The special forces leader also stepped back slowly, waving his hand at my actions.

"You're going too far. It seems there are no laws or rules for you, Saint. But do you know? For those of us who are not Saints, laws and rules apply."

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The leader chuckled.

Then, he shouted for everyone to hear.

"From now on, anyone who receives treatment from the Saint will be considered a subversive and will be fired!! They will also be suspected of being labor theorists and will be interrogated and possibly imprisoned in a concentration camp!!"

At the word "fired," the faces of the workers froze.

"The Saint won’t be able to save all of you. The police will be deployed all over the city. We’ll arrest you, take you to trial, and imprison you in a concentration camp. The Saint might save a few, but he won’t save all of you. Do you want to be fired? Do you want to be locked up in a concentration camp?"

His words made the workers and their families gnash their teeth.

But despite that, they didn’t step forward, their eyes filled with uncertainty.

Fired.

It seemed they feared being fired more than the threat of being sent to a concentration camp.

Wow...

This is really despicable and filthy.

If it were just me, I’d use time stop or hypnosis to try something, but if I declared that I’d attack everyone, it’s obvious I couldn’t protect them all.

Seeing the trembling in my eyes, the leader slowly approached me.

"Saint. Do you really want to see all of them suffer because of your actions?"

"...Why are you doing this?"

"I want to ask you the same. Aren’t they just dirty, uneducated workers with no money? Why are you going so far for them?"

"........"

"I admit, we can’t do anything about you. But them, we can do whatever we want. Don’t make them suffer any longer. Leave now. If you’re still healing people here tomorrow, it won’t be you, but them who will suffer."

The police released Peter, Anna, and Jim and Amy.

"I’ll remember your faces. If you ever engage in suspicious activities again, you’ll be sent straight to the concentration camp."

After the harsh warning, the police withdrew.

The shattered free soup kitchen.

Some workers, who already seemed to have been beaten while I was sleeping.

But more than anything...

"Yeah. I knew this would happen."

"Even if we’re treated, we’ll just get hurt again... Why bother getting treated?"

The biggest problem was that everyone began to despair with bitter expressions.

I clenched my fists tightly.

Taking everyone to the Karma Company in the capital is impossible.

Creating jobs for hundreds of thousands of workers is impossible, even for a company like Karma, where elixirs flow like water.

So, if I go somewhere else, will the situation improve?

No.

Other factories in the empire.

Other jobs are mostly just like here.

Even if I escape, there’s no paradise.

It’s just the same treatment, being used like livestock, and dying in the end.

"Saint."

Peter limped towards me.

He gave me a sad smile.

"Please leave now. You’ve already done enough. There’s nothing more you can do."

"......."

"Thank you for everything."

Peter forced a smile, and with that, he and his family started returning to their lodging.

The other workers did the same.

They bowed to me before leaving.

My fists tightened to the point that they might shatter.

Is this right?

Is this what’s right?

I’ve only healed people, but why does it have to be like this?

What crime have those people committed?

Why are they doing this!!

Why is it so dirty and despicable, you bastards!!

"Stop!!!!"

I shouted at the workers trying to leave.

Poorly dressed, pitiful people turned back to look at me with hopeless eyes.

With all their eyes on me, I slowly...

Climbed onto the wreckage of the broken free soup kitchen.

Everyone was watching me.

At this moment.

Hell.

The Goddess’s wrath.

The power of Asmodeus inside me.

Everything is forgotten.

What I feel is only one thing.

Anger.

Only anger.

Yeah.

I’ll admit it.

With my game-like skills, I can’t fix this situation.

But the factory owners...

There’s something they don’t know.

I’m not just someone with game-like skills. I’m {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} a reincarnate.

I applied body modification to my body, increasing my mana.

Then, with all my might, I gathered my anger and shouted.

"A ghost is haunting the empire!!!!"