This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

Chapter 12

It seemed I hadn’t been unconscious for long.

When I came to, five young girls with grotesquely disfigured faces were gathered around me, looking up with wide, sparkling eyes.

“It’s the Saint.”

“It really is the Saint.”

I blinked at them, then turned my gaze toward the corner where the corpse of the thug lay sprawled. The reality of what had happened came rushing back.

I didn’t feel like throwing up.

But cold sweat drenched me as I sat frozen in place, unable to move.

The young girls cautiously approached and held my hands, their warmth helping me regain some semblance of composure.

“That man… what did he do?” I asked.

“He brought us matches.”

“We sell the matches to make money.”

“Then he takes the money and gives us food and a place to sleep.”

“He gives you food and a place to sleep?”

“Yes, Saint.”

I looked down at the children.

At most, they were seven or eight years old. One of them looked as young as four.

All of them had faces disfigured by burns, and their clothes were little more than scraps of fabric that belonged in a trash heap.

None of them wore shoes, and their hands, which held mine, were rougher than those of an old laborer.

I frowned.

They said they had food and a place to sleep, yet their condition was this dire?

“Can I see where you sleep?”

“Yes.”

The children led me through a labyrinth of narrow, filthy alleys.

I had to run.

I needed to escape before the Lilia Church people arrived…

But the sight of these children, so utterly wretched, made it impossible to leave.

After winding through several more alleys, we arrived.

“This is where we sleep,” one of the girls said.

I was speechless.

A long, filthy, rotting rope was strung horizontally along a wall.

Children who looked no older than ten were leaning against the rope, huddled together, asleep.

The place reeked of mold and decay, located at the entrance of what appeared to be an abandoned sewer.

“What do you eat?” I asked.

The girls pointed to rotting vegetables and moldy bread scattered near the sewer entrance.

“If we bring back a lot of money, sometimes he gives us bread without mold,” one of them said.

The sight was so shocking I couldn’t speak.

Fifteen children, all with burns or disfigurements, leaned against the rope, their expressions void of hope or a future.

The guilt I felt for killing someone began to fade.

What kind of monstrous trash does this to children?

“Your faces… Why are they like that?” I asked.

The girls began to sniffle, their voices trembling.

“Mom and Dad died a long time ago.”

“The factory man took us to work in the match factory.”

“We were supposed to be careful, but there was a fire.”

“When our faces got hurt, they just threw us away. We were hungry and had nowhere to go… The man picked us up and made us work, and he gave us food and a place to sleep.”

Some of the children were missing toes from frostbite, and others had missing fingers.

One girl’s face was so disfigured that I could see the inside of her throat when she spoke.

Their condition was so horrifying it was a miracle they were alive.

I clenched my fists.

I had to run.

The Lilia Church people were coming.

They said they’d arrived early.

By now, they might already be looking for me.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

I needed to escape.

My mind screamed at me to flee.

But…

But how could I walk away after seeing this?

Time Stop had erased my footprints and witnesses. It would take them time to find me.

Surely, I had enough time to treat these children.

That thought pushed me forward.

“Are you really a Saint, mister?” one of the young girls asked.

I knelt to her level and met her gaze.

“No,” I said.

I wasn’t a Saint.

I was just an idiot with skills ripped from an erotic game.

A coward who froze at the slightest danger and teared up when things got too scary.

A loser who liked gore movies and anime, who lived an unremarkable life as a small-town college student before suddenly reincarnating.

But I had the ability to help these kids.

“I’m just someone who serves the lowly,” I said, holding out my hand to her.

“Come here. I’ll heal you.”

It didn’t matter if my skills came from an erotic game or if I was a nobody.

I had the chance to do something, and for that, I was grateful.

I placed my hand on the child’s head.

[Skill: Body Modification activated!]

I began working on her body.

I healed the burns that had melted her face, cured the diseases ravaging her body, and restored the fingers and toes lost to frostbite.

Despite the mental fatigue from Time Stop, I forced myself to concentrate.

Blood began to drip from my nose, but I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t stop.

“Aah…”

The girl stared at her now-healed body, tears streaming down her face.

“Go bring your friends,” I said. “I’ll heal them all.”

The girl brought the others to me.

A limping child.

A child whose one eye was milky white and blind.

A child whose nose had melted away, making strange noises when she spoke.

One by one, I placed my hands on their heads and carefully healed them.

Finally, the last child was transformed into a bright, beautiful little girl.

“Saint!”

“The Saint healed me!”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore! I can see now!”

As their laughter echoed around me, tears welled up in my eyes.

I hugged each child tightly.

“You won’t hurt anymore,” I said.

“Thank you!”

“Thank you, Saint!”

“Now we can sell matches even better!”

At those words, I frowned.

“You’re going to sell matches?”

“Yes.”

“And where will you sleep?”

“Here.”

“…”

“Why?”

When I went to all the trouble of healing them, they were bound to fall ill, suffer, and eventually die before long.

I was just planning to say, "Well, I've done my part. Goodbye now," and leave.

But my feet wouldn’t move.

“Do you know where the Sun Church is?”

“Yes! We know!”

“Go there and tell them the Saint sent you. They’ll take care of you.”

The Sun Church probably isn’t overflowing with funds.

So I thought, if I anonymously donate money for these kids monthly, it should be fine.

“No! We don’t want to leave the Saint!”

“Me too!”

This was the best I could do for them.

Anything beyond this was too much for me.

The Lilia Church might still be searching for me!!

If they find me, it’ll be the stake for me, kids!!

“Let’s just—can you let go of me for a moment…”

I was carefully trying to push the kids away and plan my escape when—

“There he is!!”

“It’s the Saint!!”

I heard the sound of clinking metal armor.

Before I could do anything, the Sun Church’s paladins came charging into the alley where I stood.

“The Saint! It’s truly the Saint!!”

The moment I saw the paladins, my face turned pale.

I’m doomed.

Even now! I need to run! Quickly!…

Damn it.

My mind was too exhausted.

Even with Time Stop, I wasn’t sure I could escape this alley.

In the end, I couldn’t flee and was awkwardly standing there, surrounded by the children.

“Saint, could it be… Did you heal these children?”

I broke out in a cold sweat, forcing a strained smile.

At least it wasn’t the Lilia Church.

“I merely did what needed to be done.”

“Oh… You truly are…”

Would you please take the children with you?

Since I need to leave, please take them and care for them.

… I was about to say when—

A group of people followed the paladins of the Sun Church into the alley.

A half-crazed thief, drooling and giggling while wearing handcuffs, was being dragged in by the police.

That thief.

Wasn’t he dead?

He’s alive??

What a wretched bastard.

Rot in prison for life.

So far, so good.

The problem was the group of priests dressed in white who followed after.

A water droplet enclosed in a circle.

Ah…

Why are they here?

“Shortly after the Saint disappeared, the people of the Lilia Church heard the rumors and came directly to our church. They used a miracle of tracking, and I personally guided them here.”

A miracle of tracking.

That exists?

Why does that exist?

Why does something like that exist and work so perfectly?!

“I see.”

I was still smiling.

My face was frozen in that expression.

It’s over.

It’s the stake ending.

I’m such an idiot.

I should’ve just fixed the kids quickly, activated Time Stop, and run away.

Why did I let my meddlesome nature get me into this mess?!

No, wait!

How is this my fault?!

You Sun Church people are worse for hiding the miracle of tracking from me!!

Maybe if I cry miserably just before the stake and plead that I healed so many people, even as a heretic, they might show some leniency?

While I was having these thoughts,

the priests of the Lilia Church cautiously approached me.

I stood frozen, watching them come closer.

The bald priest at the front wore a complex expression as he looked at me.

“Goddess… Is this truly… Is he truly the Saint? The one the Goddess has sent?”

I had no idea how to respond.

No matter what I say, they’ll use it against me.

I just stood there trembling.

When I didn’t react, the bald priest reached out his liver-spotted hand toward me.

“Stigmata. If you are truly the Apostle sent by the Goddess… her Saint, show us the stigmata.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Of course, it would come to this.

They’d use some obscure test only understood by Lilia devotees to verify me.

Stigmata?

Do I have that?

I’m screwed.

For the rest of my life, I’ll probably be branded as a heretic pretending to be the Saint.

When I didn’t do anything, the impatient bald priest took the initiative.

“Forgive my rudeness. I shall confirm it myself.”

He urgently gestured.

The paladins of the Lilia Church approached me.

They cautiously and methodically began stripping off my filthy clothes, dirtied from rolling around with the poor and healing witches.

I stared blankly at the sky, my face vacant.

…Life, you bastard.

Is this how it ends?

So absurdly…

The paladins inspected every inch of my naked body as I stood there, arms spread wide.

I let them observe me, utterly resigned.

I was too scared; my brain had shut down, and I couldn’t think at all.

All I could think of was crying as pathetically as possible right before the stake, hoping for some pity.

“There are no stigmata… no marks at all!”

“None whatsoever!”

The Lilia paladins shouted.

Yeah.

There’s none.

It would be weirder if there were.

Should I start crying now?

Should I kneel and sob pathetically, begging them to spare me from being burned alive as a heretic?

“...The purest form shall come! Ahhh! The scripture has been fulfilled!!”

“That’s right!! High Priest!! He is the Saint sent by the Goddess!!”

…What?

“Lilia!! Oh, praise the Goddess of Grace!!”

The paladins knelt before me in unison.

The priests of the Lilia Church, including the bald priest, also knelt.

The people of the Sun Church were shedding tears, crossing themselves, while the police stared at me with awe and reverence.

“Oh, Saint of the Goddess!! Lead your humble servants!!”

The bald priest cried out in rapture, and I blinked in confusion.

What the hell is going on?