This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

"He's a dark god worshipper! There's no other explanation for this! How can you gloss over something so obvious?! If this is an inquisition, then be thorough! I won’t accept this! That man is a dark god worshipper! You need to examine him more closely! Cast mind control or demand stronger miracles—do whatever it takes!"

Tuidel seemed utterly unhinged.

Her half-rolled eyes glinted with madness, and her frantic gestures reeked of hysteria. The witches and wizards from the Mage Tower looked visibly uncomfortable. The Lilia Church members, who had been weeping with devotion moments earlier, now started resembling clerics from some fanatical crusader comic, their expressions ready to erupt into cries of "You blasphemer!" at any moment.

"Tuidel! Do not speak so recklessly without evidence! Do you intend to disgrace the Mage Tower?!"

The man who appeared to be the Tower Master shouted. However, Tuidel was relentless.

"Everyone else is wrong! Seriously, does it make sense for miracles to occur without magic or divine power? Have we ever had a saint like that? This is fraud! A meticulously planned, wicked fraud! I won’t accept this judgment! Even if I have to stand alone, I’ll say it—he is not a saint! He’s a fraud!"

"Such insolence!"

High Priest Yodel and the Lilia Church clergy erupted from their seats. Some of the paladins even unsheathed their swords, now glowing with divine energy.

"This insult cannot be tolerated! What blasphemy are you spewing against our Church’s saint, you witch?!"

Wow.

Perfect.

If Yodel grabbed a scripture and smashed someone's skull right now, it would look exactly like those infamous memes.

Just as High Priest Yodel roared in anger, the judge presiding over the trial—the High Priest of the Silent Order, Gerson—raised his hand to stop the commotion.

"Tuidel, witch of the Mage Tower, is that correct?"

"Yes, Gerson. I cannot accept this judgment! There are records of someone who deceives and seduces people without using magic or divine power. Surely the Silent Order is aware of this! Acknowledging such a person as a saint is far too dangerous!"

Gerson looked at her with an expressionless face.

"You must be referring to the dark god’s chosen, The One with a Thousand Faces. Am I correct?"

"Exactly! Think carefully, everyone! All of this is circumstantial evidence! His miracles, his words, and the memories of those around him—this judgment is based on nothing else! I do not doubt the Silent Order’s integrity, but we must look into his soul. Who knows what kind of sinister plans he hides in his heart?!"

"Th-that—!"

Yodel, now fully resembling a fanatical inquisitor, looked ready to explode.

I quickly waved a hand at him, signaling him not to move.

For now...

I needed to observe the situation.

"As a member of the Mage Tower participating in this inquisition, I have the right to make this request! An inquisition against a saint must be conducted with the utmost rigor. I demand to examine his soul and memories!"

Gerson shrugged.

"Very well. You do have that right. An inquisition against a saint must indeed be thorough. If you insist, we will proceed with examining his soul and memories."

At those words, Yodel exploded with fury.

"This cannot be allowed! Examining someone’s soul and memories?! Such vile practices are the work of dark god worshippers or demon cultists! The judgment has already been made—why should the saint endure such humiliation?!"

The Lilia Church clergy agreed fervently, their murderous intent practically tangible. They seemed ready to riot at any moment.

But even amid their uproar, my mind was racing.

I had to prove that I wasn’t a saint.

My memories.

My soul.

To be honest, exposing those things felt humiliating. But nothing could be more definitive.

If they saw my memories, they’d witness my past life in Korea.

Even a saint needs to be of this world to be recognized as one, right?

Once they realized I came from another world, no one would believe I was a saint anymore.

I understood the risks.

Revealing my reincarnation might lead to unforeseen consequences. How would these people react to a being from another world? They might persecute me simply for being a dimensional traveler.

Not once had I read about a protagonist in any reincarnation novel willingly exposing their past life.

But what choice did I have?

Better to reveal my reincarnation than to risk divine punishment and death.

The thought of burning at the stake or living in constant fear of divine retribution was unbearable.

"Examine my soul and memories. If it will remove the last doubts, then it is the right thing to do."

"Saint!"

"It must be certain. Gerson, proceed."

Gerson stared at me silently, his expression unmistakably one of reverence.

"Before Le-Neril, all secrets shall be unveiled. Prepare the miracle of Soul Gaze."

The priests of the Silent Order gathered around me, preparing for the ritual. Gerson turned to Tuidel.@@novelbin@@

"We will examine his soul. As for his memories, that is your task. Will this satisfy you?"

Tuidel smiled triumphantly as she stepped down from the audience, approaching me.

"It will suffice!"

Tuidel and the Silent Order priests stood before me. Magic and divine power simultaneously converged on my body.

"Grace! What an outrage!..."

Yodel, old man...

I’m sorry.

There’s no stopping this.

I’m giving up on being a saint.

So, farewell.

Now!

Expose my reincarnated memories!

I’m done being a saint, Yodel!

Slowly, an unfamiliar sensation crept through my brain and body.

I closed my eyes tightly.

This was it.

My reincarnation had been revealed.

After all this effort...

Please, just let me stop being a saint.

***

For an hour, Witch Tuidel and the priests of the Silent Order meticulously examined my soul and memories.

At last, they opened their eyes and stepped back.

"The saint's soul is pure. We found no traces of dark magic or signs of a dark god's influence. I swear this by Le-Neril, the Father of Darkness and Secrets. He is not a dark god worshipper."

The priests of the Silent Order made their declaration, and the Lilia Church clergy nodded as if they had always known this would be the outcome.

"Witch Tuidel, what of the memories you saw? Were there any that could suggest he is a dark god worshipper?"

High Priest Gerson directed the question to Tuidel.

Tuidel wore a bewildered expression, clearly struggling to process what she had seen.

"No... no, this is... something is strange. It's strange!"

She muttered incoherently, almost to herself.

"What… what kind of memories are those? Are they visions of the future? Or memories from before birth? That city? Those cars? What in the world did I see?"

As she continued mumbling in confusion, Gerson narrowed his eyes at her.

"Did you find anything that indicates he is a dark god worshipper? Yes or no, Witch Tuidel?"

Startled, Tuidel snapped out of her daze.

"I… I don’t know how to explain it. I’ll just show you fragments of the memories I witnessed."

Tuidel raised her wand to her head and cast a massive illusion spell into the air.

Within the illusion, familiar scenes unfolded before my eyes.

A vast city.

Seoul.

The glittering night skyline and the Han River Bridge.

Crowds of people and streams of cars.

Computers, smartphones, delivery food.

The sight of people walking amidst the familiar Hangul.

It wasn’t Jericho Amayel’s memories on display—it was the unfiltered life of Kim Min-kyu, a citizen of South Korea.

The illusion displayed landscapes that no one could mistake for anything within the Arkal Empire. After cycling through these scenes, the magic dissipated.

I closed my eyes.

I’ve gone this far.

That’s right.

I’m not from this world.

I’m just a Korean who reincarnated here with the powers of some trashy adult game.

I was never from this world in the first place!

Even now, do you still think I’m a saint?

Even now, do you still believe I’m a saint?!

"What… what are those scenes…?"

The entire courtroom, including High Priest Gerson, stared blankly at the aftermath of the illusion, their faces filled with shock.

Even Tuidel looked lost, her expression clouded with confusion.

As the room plunged into silence, trying to comprehend what they had just witnessed, suddenly—

"Isn’t it because he’s from a prophetic family? Maybe he saw the future," came a casual remark from the restaurant owner I had worked for.

"Obviously, it’s a vision of the future! Look at those towering skyscrapers and sleek cars filling the streets. Give it a hundred years, and the Arkal Empire will look just like that. Why is everyone making such a fuss over something so obvious?"

His offhand comment ignited a spark in the crowd, bringing clarity to those who had been struggling to interpret what they’d seen.

"Of course! He’s the son of the prophetic Jericho family!"

"That must be it! He foresaw the future!"

Oh, come on.

"No, no! I am a reincarnator! I lived in another world before coming to this one! Don’t you understand? I am not a saint! I don’t even belong to this world!"

I shouted in desperation, only for one of the priests of the Prophecy Church, devoted to the God of the Future, Rupiel, to rise from his seat.

"Perhaps what you remember is simply a trace of your experiences in that other world, Saint?"

"No! It’s not just a trace—I actually lived there!" I yelled back.

The priest paused, wearing a deeply contemplative expression, before finally responding.

"It seems clear. He is a seer. Sometimes, there are those who, in their earliest years, when their souls are most free, glimpse an expansive future and mistake those memories for a past life."

"I am not a seer! I am truly a reincarnator!"

"Let’s test this. Saint, as a member of a prophetic family, you didn’t show much promise in foretelling the future, did you?"

The restaurant owner and my childhood neighbors nodded at this.

"He grew up being scolded all the time for not being good at seeing the future. We saw it with our own eyes!"

The Prophecy Church priest nodded sagely.

"That settles it. He is a seer. He must have expended all his prophetic abilities in childhood, leaving him unable to see the future anymore. The unfamiliar symbols, cities, and landscapes in those visions were simply distorted memories from a time when he was too young to comprehend writing or geography."

"Indeed!"

"So not only is he a saint... but a seer as well!"

I could feel my sanity slipping away.

Even after all this, I’m still considered a saint?

And now I’m a seer, too?

I stared blankly into the air, my jaw slack with disbelief. As I stood there, the priests of the Prophecy Church collectively rose from their seats, bowing toward me.

"We pay our respects to one who has seen the most expansive future. The Prophecy Church humbly greets the Seer and Healing Saint. May a brilliant future be granted to you."

I laughed.

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed out loud, overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity.

What more could I possibly do to convince them?

What else could I do to make them believe I wasn’t a saint?

I’m going to get struck by lightning from the Goddess Lilia at this rate!

I want to cry.

I really want to cry.

And apparently, I wasn’t the only one.

"No… it can’t be. That bastard can’t really be a saint…"

Witch Tuidel muttered to herself, her voice trembling as though she’d lost her mind.