This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

"No way, isn’t this supposed to be Time Stop!? Everyone else’s time should freeze while I can move freely!"

This wasn’t the Time Stop I knew!

I grunted and tried to move, but my body felt completely frozen, as though encased in ice, refusing to budge.

Did I spend about thirty minutes trying to move within this frozen time?

Eventually, I managed to take a single step forward.

How did I do it?

By painstakingly designating my body and the space I was advancing into as small zones where time would resume, taking a step forward, and then reapplying Time Stop to the newly unfrozen areas. It was a laborious, frustrating, and mentally exhausting process.

What kind of skill is this!? Why is it so complicated!?

The controls were absurdly difficult!

It was clear that using Time Stop on the same level as those ridiculous memes would require an insane amount of practice.

All I wanted was to step outside and take a break, but even that wasn’t allowed.

Life really...

Sucks.

I sighed deeply and released Time Stop.

“Saint! Saint!”

“My son is sick! Saint, please!”

The cries of the sick and the poor reverberated like a chorus.

At this rate, the saint’s going to die!

People, come on, let me rest!

I debated shouting at them to scare them off, but then—

"Make way! Make way, you filthy wretches!"

A group of people pushed through the crowd surrounding me with loud, commanding voices.

Their chests bore a distinct emblem of flames: the insignia of the Sun Church, worshippers of the sun god Rofus.

I’d heard of the Sun Church before.

They believed that status and wealth were gifts from their god.

Naturally, they also believed that poverty and low birth were curses from the divine.

Like the Church of Lilia, they were known for offering healing services, but only for the wealthy elite.

To put it in modern terms, they ran hospitals exclusively for VVIPs.

The priests of the Sun Church arrived accompanied by knights in plate armor and armed guards wielding pistols and clubs. The slum dwellers hesitated, parting like the Red Sea before Moses.

At the forefront was a hulking figure, so massive it was hard to tell if he was a priest or a bear, stomping his way toward me.

"So, you’re the so-called Healer Saint, sent by the goddess Lilia?”

I’m terrified.

Absolutely terrified.

I’ve never even uttered the name “goddess Lilia” before! Why am I suddenly being accused of claiming to be a saint from a specific church!?

What a goddamned trap.

There was no way out of this.

I had no choice but to double down on the persona I’d created.

Straightening my back, I looked the giant man in the eye with the calmest expression I could muster.

"I belong to no church."

Unregistered magic use is a crime punishable by hanging, but falsely claiming to be a saint sent by a specific deity? That’s punishable by burning at the stake. So, I had to answer this way.

Apparently, this was a mistake too.

"Not serving any god, are you? Then where does your power come from? Are you a magician?"

At the word "magician," the knights and guards subtly reached for their weapons.

Unregistered magic use equals hanging.

Unregistered magic use equals hanging.

Even though I felt like I was about to wet myself from fear, I feigned calm.

I had to respond vaguely, with something saintly sounding.

Ambiguous words...

"I’m simply a servant of the lowly and downtrodden."

There! Ambiguous enough!

The slum dwellers murmured among themselves, then began shouting.

"He healed us!"

"You dirty businessmen chasing after the wealthy! You’re not going to heal us, so why are you even here!?"

"Get lost! My son is sick! He needs treatment!"

At their outcries, the Sun Church priest roared back with a voice brimming with divine power.

"Silence, you filthy scum!"

It wasn’t just a yell—it was a miracle or magic of some sort.

No human voice could reach that volume naturally.

Hearing it at point-blank range, I froze on the spot, unable to move. The priest seemed to interpret my frozen state differently.

"Such boldness. You’re either a remarkable con artist or a genuine saint, judging by your refusal to flinch."

I remained frozen, unable to reply.

The priest laughed and looked around at the crowd of slum dwellers.

"And you lot! Look at yourselves, swarming like locusts and cockroaches at the mere mention of a saint! Begging for miracles without paying a single coin! How are you any different from animals? The Sun Church has always been open to you! We only ask for a modest fee!"

"That fee is outrageously expensive!"

"If you want to live, can’t you at least earn that much money!? Is your will to live so cheap!? You are shadows, beings unworthy of the Sun’s grace! There’s a reason Rofus has abandoned you!"

The slum dwellers seemed furious but didn’t dare speak up, cowed by the knights’ swords and the guards’ pistols.

Despite his grand speech, his true intent was obvious: he was upset that I was taking potential clients from their territory.

That priest would undoubtedly do whatever it took to crush me for the Sun Church’s prosperity.

After all, it’s best to stomp out competitors while they’re still fledgling.

What should I do?

Should I bow down and confess that it’s all a lie, that I’m just putting on a show to prevent the world from ending?

No.

That would lead straight to the gallows.

What should I do, then?

If apologizing won’t work, I have to double down.

That meant I had to push back harder.

"Demanding money from those born into suffering, crippled by their circumstances and battered by the world? Telling someone who can’t even walk to go out and run?"

I shouted, surprising the priest.

Good.

It’s working.

Keep pushing! Avoid the gallows at all costs!

"Who are you to belittle their will to survive!? They are not cheap! All I’ve done is return those who were robbed of even a starting line back to the starting line! You, who insult the value of life and the will to live—you’re the one who’s cheap!"

Honestly, even I didn’t know what I was saying anymore.

The words just spilled out, almost unconsciously.

Deep down, I was terrified of being hanged. I felt like I was about to cry.

Tears welled up as I feared that hulking man would strike me.

"No matter what you say, no matter what those knights and guards do to me, I won’t stop bringing the wounded and downtrodden back to the starting line! Because that is the mission entrusted to me!"

Tears streaming down my face, I finished speaking. Suddenly, I felt immense pressure behind me.

The slum dwellers were glaring at the Sun Church priest with murderous expressions.

"Don’t you dare harm the saint!"

"He’s someone who performs miracles!"

"He’s not a fraud!"

The beggar I had treated first emerged from the crowd, adding fuel to the fire of their fervor.

"Look! Look at me! He healed me! He touched me with the grace of the divine! The boils that covered my body are gone, and the twisted leg I was born with is now perfectly straight! How can you say this man is not a saint!?"

"That’s right!"

The thunderous cheers caused even the police and knights to hesitate.

The burly priest from the Sun Church seemed flustered as well.

"Silence! I said, silence!"

He roared again, his voice splitting the air, and the slum dwellers instinctively stepped back, though their eyes still burned with defiance.

Realizing that shouting alone wouldn’t work, the priest appeared to shift tactics.

"Fine. Since you all insist on worshiping this man as a saint, let’s put him to the test."

The priest sneered, spreading his arms wide and thumping his chest.

"Do you know how to tell the difference between a fraud and a true saint? A saint can perform multiple miracles. Frauds, having only learned a smattering of basic magic, are limited to one or two tricks at best."

His eyes turned toward me, glinting with the cold calculation of a predator.

"If you’re truly a saint, perform a miracle other than healing! Show us a miracle that will convince everyone!"

It was a trap. I knew it instinctively.

Damn it.

Body Modification was out of the question.

If I used it again, he’d point at me and say, "See! A fraud who can only perform one miracle!" and I’d be marching straight to the gallows.

What about 3000x Sensory Amplification?

If the priest suddenly cried out, "I’m climaxing as a disgraceful male piglet with flaming nipples! Oooohhh♥♥," the knights would immediately brand me as a heretic and drag me away.

That’s a one-way trip to execution too.

How about Absolute Hypnosis?

Hypnosis...

That’s execution material as well.

If the priest suddenly changed his tune, claiming, "Oh, he truly is a saint! He reached into my mind!" even I would think it looked too much like a heretic’s spell.

That left only one option:

Time Stop.

No choice.

Bluff. Bluffing is my only way out.

"You don’t believe I’m here for the downtrodden?" I said.

"Do you know how many frauds exist?" he sneered.

"You’re not worried about me being a fraud. You’re just a merchant fretting over losing potential clients for the Sun Church."

"Are you insulting the Sun Church now!?"

The knights began drawing their swords in anger.

Turning the Sun Church into an enemy would be suicide.

Quickly, I added, "I’m not insulting the Sun Church or Rofus. I’m simply saying that the man before me is dirty."

The priest burst into mocking laughter.

"You talk too much. Words are empty. If you’re truly a saint, prove it with a miracle!"

Raising my hand, I decided to follow through with my plan.

From my earlier attempts with Time Stop, I’d learned one thing: the skill allowed me to freeze time in a localized area and release it as needed.

I intended to freeze time around the priest’s legs, rendering him immobile. Then I’d declare, "Behold! Your lack of faith has brought divine retribution!"

That was the idea, anyway.

But my control over Time Stop was far from perfect, and I was worried.

Still, I had no other option.

If I didn’t act, it was certain death.

"Punishment for the unbeliever."

After uttering a suitably dramatic phrase, I targeted the priest’s legs and activated Time Stop.

Wait.

That’s not where it was supposed to go.

This isn’t working.

My lack of experience with the skill made my control... oh, crap!

"Guh! Gaaaaahhh! Aaaaaaahhh!"

The priest suddenly clutched his chest and began convulsing.

"Urgh... Urgh... Urgh..."

He collapsed, seemingly suffering a heart attack.

I frantically tried to release Time Stop, but my panic only made it harder to control.

"Father Barduk! Father Barduk!"

"Please, wake up!"

The knights rushed to the fallen priest while I stood frozen, my hand still raised.

Release it already! Please!

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to undo the localized Time Stop around his heart.

"Cough! Gaaahhh!"

The priest gasped, breathing again, but the knights’ expressions turned murderous as they drew their glowing swords.

"You heretical fraud! You dare impersonate a saint and attempt to kill a priest of the Sun Church!?"

"We’ll burn you at the stake!"

I was doomed.

I froze again, too terrified to move.

If they took one more step toward me, I’d collapse to the ground, begging for my life while wetting myself.

But they didn’t take that step.

"Father Barduk! You’re safe!..."

Unlike the knights readying to arrest me, the ones supporting the fallen priest suddenly froze mid-sentence.

And they weren’t the only ones.

Everyone, including me, the slum dwellers, and the police, stared at Barduk in stunned silence.

Why?

Because Barduk’s appearance had changed.

The muscular priest was gone, replaced by a slender, snake-like man with sharp features.

And on his forehead was a vivid inverted pentagram.

The man frantically touched his forehead, his face turning pale.

"A worshipper of the Evil God!"

One of the slum dwellers shouted.

"The Evil God’s worshipper was in disguise all along!"

This time, it was a police officer who shouted.

The knights joined in.

"The inverted pentagram on his forehead!"

"The symbol of the Evil God!"

"Arrest him!"

Chaos erupted as the man disguised as Barduk was restrained.

I stood there, wide-eyed, blinking.

This... turned out well, right?@@novelbin@@