This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

The dilapidated, shabby tent set up in front of an abandoned factory in the slums.

Inside, a board meeting of Karma Company—a corporation only three hours old, having just completed its business registration—was in full swing.

The expressions of the people inside the tent were resolute and serious.

Oliviera, the wife of Jonathan Karma, was appointed as Chief Financial Officer.

Cecilia, Jonathan Karma’s daughter, was appointed as Chief Operating Officer.

Jonathan Karma himself assumed the role of Chief Executive Officer.

In addition to these, various other positions were assigned at Jonathan Karma’s discretion.

Determining who should take on which role is one of the most challenging tasks for any organization, but Jonathan Karma was unhesitant in his appointments.

After all, everyone here had once worked under him during his time as a distributor—seasoned veterans of the industry.

“I declare this here and now,” Jonathan said, pounding his hand on the battered table inside the worn-out tent.

“I have secured startup funds of 50,000 Salreds from the Lilia Church. We’re still raking in money in real-time, so if needed, we can secure even more funds. Out there are workers ready to pour their passion into this project, and in our hands, we have the ultimate business item—an elixir source that cannot fail! Under these conditions, failure is simply not an option!”

Gone was the face of the sickly, hardened middle-aged man. In its place was the air of a shrewd, seasoned veteran—a battle-scarred warrior of the business world.

“I swore to the Healing Saint, who saved my daughter, my family, and gave us this incredible opportunity, that I would make the Lilia Church the wealthiest church in the Empire! So let’s do what we do best! Let’s sell this blue gold, make mountains of money, and make sure the Healing Saint never has to worry about finances again! Let’s ensure that the Grace of the Saint spreads far and wide, and that I, even in the smallest way, contribute to it!”

Jonathan Karma’s family, as well as his former colleagues who had gathered at his request, looked at him with awe.

They were the ones who had witnessed, up close, how Cecilia’s rotting disease had crushed and devastated Jonathan’s family.

No one could have imagined that Cecilia, who had been beyond help despite Jonathan pouring all his significant resources into her recovery, would stand here now, transformed into a stunning young woman and proudly serving as one of the company’s executives.

And Jonathan Karma himself, whose demeanor and words seemed like those of a completely different man.

If this wasn’t a miracle, then what was?

“Let’s get moving! Let’s earn money, more and more money! All we need to do is what we do best! Mirda! Secure some deals! Toby! Acquire large transport trucks and trains for elixir transport! Cecilia! Get the technology from the Mage Tower! Bring back a magician skilled in elixir processing—at the very least, secure a technology partnership!”

“Yes, sir!!”

Everyone dispersed from the tent, rushing off to tackle their assignments with bright expressions.

After all, an unbeatable business item was now in the hands of the most experienced businessman among them.

But Jonathan Karma was eyeing something even grander.

The elixir was just the beginning.

To make the Lilia Church the wealthiest organization in the Empire, much larger ventures would be required.

His grand vision was to establish a sprawling corporate empire by using the elixir business as its foundation and expanding it through tentacle-like diversification into various industries.

And then, to place that corporate empire into the hands of the Saint.

That was Jonathan Karma’s ambitious dream.

***

Two months flew by in the blink of an eye.

To be honest, it had been quite comfortable and enjoyable.

Though the solitary cell was cramped, I cherished the peaceful time I had to read books, enjoy meals, sleep, and do light exercise without fear of divine punishment or being burned at the stake.

This was what a tranquil life felt like.

A Saint? Seriously?

Does it make sense for me, a cowardly, selfish person, to be a Saint?

I hope I can serve my one-year sentence here and then leave quietly.

“It’s today, Jericho Amayel.”

While I was exercising after finishing a simple yet delicious breakfast delivered early in the morning, a guard came to fetch me.

Finally, today.

Today, I’m going to reveal everything.

I’ll tell them that I’m not a Saint, just the useless youngest son of a family of prophets with no divine power whatsoever.

Still, I’ve saved a lot of people, so hopefully, they’ll just give me a one-year sentence in this underground prison and call it a day.

That’s what I planned to say.

With cuffs locked around my wrists, I followed the Silent Order priests with a bright smile.

After walking for quite some time, I found myself in a massive circular dome.

There must have been over a hundred people surrounding me in the audience, and at the center was the defendant’s stand where I was meant to stand.

Hmm… How should I describe this?

It looks somewhat like the British Parliament I’ve seen on the news.

“Saint! Saint!”

“Healing Saint! We are here!”

As I climbed up to the defendant’s stand, a group of people spotted me and shouted.

I could see priests from the Lilia Church and people from the slums among them.

I smiled at them.

Yes, this is it.

Today is the last day.

I won’t be a Saint anymore after today.

So I can smile now.

I’m sorry for letting you believe in a misunderstanding all this time.

You might be disappointed when you learn the truth about me today.

But what can I do?

I don’t want to pretend to be the Saint of the Goddess and face divine punishment.

So please understand a little.

After all, I’ve healed so many of you.

Even if it comes out that I’m not the Saint, you won’t try to kill me or burn me at the stake, right?

The Goddess might even let this slide, considering all the good I’ve done.

This is why people should always do good deeds!

This is exactly what I wanted—an ideal scenario where I can avoid being burned or punished while smoothly saying goodbye to the Saint title!

I will be found guilty of impersonating a Saint.

“Have the representatives of the 24 sects of the Pantheon arrived?”

As I stepped onto the stand, a priest in black robes sitting at the judge’s seat before me shouted.

In response, some people seated in the audience stood up.

“The Apostles of the Pantheon’s gods are all here!”

“Have the senators of the Council arrived?”

Another group of people stood up in unison.

“Those representing the glory of humanity are all here!”

“Have the judges of the Supreme Court arrived?”

Yet another group rose from their seats.

“Those who judge humanity are all here!”

“Have the practitioners of the arcane arts arrived?”

This time, the mages and witches stood.

“The practitioners of the arcane arts are all here!”

Among the witches and mages, I spotted the familiar faces of Tuidel, the witch who accused me, and Erfa, with her four arms.

Both of them were staring at me intently.

“Then let us begin! The question we will answer today is one: Is this man before us the Saint bestowed by the Grace of the Goddess Lilia, or is he a heretical imposter? Everyone, take your seats!”

The people who had stood all sat down at once.

A cold silence filled the courtroom.

The judge looked down at me with an expressionless face.

I swallowed nervously and met his gaze.

“Jericho Amayel.”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“First, I will ask you this: Are you truly the Apostle of the Goddess of Grace?”

Finally!!

The moment I had been waiting for had arrived!

I closed my eyes and smiled softly.

At last, goodbye to this Saint charade that never suited me.

“I am not the Apostle sent by the Goddess of Grace, Your Honor. I am not a Saint.”

Murmurs began spreading throughout the courtroom.

But why should I care?

Today, I’m spilling everything.

“Are you admitting, then, to impersonating the Saint of Grace?”

“I have never once claimed with my own mouth to be the Apostle of Grace. I only healed people. At some point, those around me began calling me a Saint. I never intentionally impersonated a Saint... but yes, if this too is considered impersonation, then so be it.”

I nodded without hesitation.

The murmurs grew louder.

But I felt no shame.

“I am far too insignificant, powerless, and foolish to be called a Saint.”

Honestly, compared to the protagonists of other novels or isekai anime I’ve seen, I’m utterly useless.

Am I good at fighting?

Do I have some extraordinary reincarnation skill?

Am I a genius with a brilliant mind?

I’m just an ordinary human with nothing special about me.

“Then why, despite not being the Saint of Grace, did you heal people?”

The judge’s question made me glance at the witches, or more specifically, at Erfa, the four-armed witch.

Hmm.

Should I just blurt out, “That bastard was trying to burn down the Empire! I saw it clearly in my dream with my own eyes!”?

No, that might provoke this walking nuclear bomb into another emotional outburst.

Even though she seems more stable mentally now, it’s not worth the risk.

Let’s keep it vague.

Not a lie, but not the full truth either—something ambiguous.

“Because I pitied them.”

“Pitied them?”

“I saw children abandoned on the streets, unable to receive proper treatment. I saw the poor waiting to die without hope, wasting away day by day. I saw a family crumbling under the weight of a daughter’s incurable disease. I pitied them, so I healed them.”

Every word of it was true.

Sure, healing that walking bomb of a witch was also about ensuring my own survival, but it was equally true that I wanted to help all those unfortunate people.

They were truly pitiful—stories that would make anyone weep.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m ready to accept divine punishment or get roasted alive for it.

That’s why my Saint act ends today.

“That’s all? Just that?”

“Yes. Even now, I don’t understand why I’m being called the Apostle of the Goddess of Grace. I simply acted on instinct. I am no Saint. I’m just a foolish, clumsy man who happened to gain the ability to heal people by chance.”

Finally, I looked over at the Lilia Church’s followers.

Some priests were so shocked that they had fallen to their knees, staring at me in a daze.

High Priest Yodel, in particular, had tears welling in his eyes.

I get it.

It must be a huge shock.

But what can you do?

This is the truth.

“I have no stigmata on my body. I have never heard the voice of the Goddess of Grace. I have never read even a single line of the Sacred Scripture. I am just an ordinary man with no connection to the Goddess.”

Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly.

“To make it clear once again, I am not a Saint. I am merely someone who healed the sick and weak. So, Your Honor, I ask for your wise judgment.”

I finished speaking.

The judge seated at the bench began quietly discussing something with a few priests from the Silent Order. Meanwhile, the people in the courtroom continued to murmur as they stared at me.

The followers of the Lilia Church were all in tears.

A bittersweet yet relieved smile crept onto my lips.

Yes.

This is how it should be.

This is the truth.

It might be shocking now, but over time, they’ll forget.

Even if I didn’t mean for it to happen, I’m sorry for misleading you all.

But now, this is the end…

“Jericho Amayel.”

The judge looked at me and gave a faint smile.

“Congratulations on passing the first trial.”

The moment the judge’s words fell, the priests of the Lilia Church erupted in shouts.

“He has denied his divinity! Ah, Saint!”

“He has come in pure form! Just as the Scripture foretold!”

“Innocent and glorious! Saint! Saint!”@@novelbin@@

Their voices were more fervent than ever before as they shouted at me.

They were practically fanatics.

Wait, what is this?

What’s going on?

I just said I’m not a Saint.

I was crystal clear!

Why are you calling me a Saint?!