This Isn’t an Erotic Game? Chapter 2: I Became a Saint

{Praise Lilia of Grace.

Her rcy is deep and wide, and she shall heal the sick and the needy as a farr tends to his field.

Her chosen one shall not be determined by wealth, gender, or place of birth, for the holiest shall co from the filthiest place and testify to this through their life.}

– Book of Grace, Chapter 32, Verse 16-

***

The capital of the Arcal Empire, which I was visiting for the first ti, Mars City, was huge and magnificent.

Mana-engine equipped cars and trucks road the roads, and the city was densely packed with buildings reminiscent of the Belle Époque era.

After getting off the train, I imdiately began to stride through the city.

Walking quickly, I reviewed the plan I had made while on the train.

Saint.

In the Arcal Empire where I lived, there were many folk tales and legends about saints.

Those who perford miracles and supernatural abilities with divine grace.

Stories of saints suddenly appearing, healing the poor and sick, and then disappearing were incredibly common in the empire.

So I thought of using this legend.

Of course, even in this era, slums existed.

And in the slums, there would be nurous sick people.

I would heal them with my body modification ability, and then rumors would spread.

Not just anywhere, but in the capital, the heart of the empire. The rumors would spread throughout the empire in an instant.

Once the rumors spread sufficiently and I beca famous, I would search for the witch.

Mages and witches weren’t beings one could et just because one wanted to, but if I beca incredibly famous, I should be able to et them.

There was even a possibility that the witch would co looking for .

Then I would heal her and avoid the apocalyptic doom scenario that rivaled dark fantasy.

And then, following the nurous saints in legends, I would vanish without a trace.

I wouldn’t just be anyone after all, I’d be a saint.

This way, it wouldn’t be considered unregistered illegal magic use since I’d be using miracles.

Let’s pretend to be a saint just until I can heal the witch, then disappear like the wind!

This was my plan.

Not long after wandering around the city, I was able to find the slums.

Before starting the full-fledged healing activities.

I took a deep breath.

I needed to be tense.

If I made a mistake, it could backfire.

If rumors spread wrongly after I healed people, I could be accused of being a heretic instead of a saint and be killed.

Moreover, there were nurous religious orders within the empire.

I absolutely couldn’t be mistaken for a saint sent by the god of a specific order.

If it was revealed that I, who had never believed in any god in both my past and current life, was impersonating a saint of that religious order, I would be crippled at best, and executed at worst. The most ideal situation would be for rumors to spread moderately, for the witch to co find , for to quickly heal her, and then to quickly disappear.

If I was mistaken for an unregistered illegal magic user or a fraud in the process, it would be over, and if a specific religious order accused of impersonating their god’s saint and branded a heretic, it would also be over.

I knew.

The chances of success seed incredibly low.

But I had no choice but to do it.

If I was going to die whether I did nothing or took action, it was better to at least try before dying.

Heal the witch and then quickly disappear. Heal the witch and quickly disappear!

Of course, this was the scenario I hoped for.

There was a good chance that the worst-case scenario could beco reality.

But I tried hard not to think about such scenarios.

I entered the slums.

As I slowly walked through the slums, sharp gazes from people were directed at .

Naturally, it wasn’t a neighborhood that welcod outsiders.

The gazes pouring towards were of only two types.

Is this soone we can exploit?

Is this soone who might harm us?

Just these two.

My legs felt like they might give out under the chilling gazes of the lower class who had no past or future, but I pushed down my fear and walked down the street trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

As I was walking like that, finally.

A suitable target caught my eye.

A beggar with no hope in his eyes was scratching his skin where boils had erupted, blood and pus flowing, while shaking an empty bowl.

“In the na of the rciful god, please spare a coin. Just one coin.”

It was a voice closer to a habitual mutter than words filled with sincerity.

It seed like it wouldn’t make any difference whether he died tomorrow or today.

“Please spare just one coin.”

A terrible stench wafted from the man who was like a living corpse.

I slowly approached him.

“Kind sir. In god’s na, please spare just one coin.”

Noticing , he glanced in my direction while muttering, and I planned to ask him a question.

This was a performance.

To spread rumors that I was a saint, the performance was important.

The rumors absolutely couldn’t spread that his body had healed due to the illegal magic of a heretic.

To do that, I naturally had to create a holy atmosphere.

Fortunately, I knew one person who was known for their holy atmosphere.

Who would have thought that my experience of attending Sunday school when I was young would co in handy one day?

Jesus.

Let imitate you a bit.

“Why are you sitting here?”

“Please spare just one coin. Just one.”

“Are you ill?”

“Yes. I’m sick, sir. Please take pity on this beggar and spare just one coin.”

“Do you want a coin to get through just today? Or would you like a chance at living the rest of your life differently?”

The beggar blinked his eyes as if he found it hard to understand.

“It would be nice if an opportunity ca, but who would give such an opportunity to a beggar like ?”

“I will give it to you. So let ask once more. Do you want an opportunity? Or do you truly want just one coin?”

“I want the opportunity, sir. If you have it, please give it to . But I have nothing to give you in return.”

“That is enough.”

I placed my hand on the beggar’s head.

Unregistered magic use was a serious cri.

Imdiate punishnt and hanging if reported.

Still, I have to do it, co what may.

I used the skill.

[Using Body Modification!]

And the next mont.

The beggar’s body condition in front of started to appear in my head like a 3D model through my hand.

Character customization screen?

That was exactly how the beggar’s body appeared in my mind.

Not only could I see the exterior, but I could also see inside the body.

Heart, large intestine, small intestine, stomach, lungs, etc. It was possible to upgrade or change the shape of internal organs as I wished.

The beggar’s condition, which I saw in unnecessarily detailed 3D models that seed closer to a dical simulator than an adult ga, was truly miserable.

The bone in one leg isn’t in a normal shape. He must have had to limp or crawl all his life.

Boils were packed all over his body, and especially the boil on his back was almost as big as a head.

The stench coming from his body was from the boil on his back.

After checking his condition, I slowly started to knead the beggar’s body as if I were doing character customization.

I removed the huge boil on his back and the boils packed all over his body.

And I changed the bone in one leg, which was twisted into a bizarre shape, into a normal shape.

I made the skin clean, changed the complexion, and changed the skinny body into a shape with good flesh and muscle.

I kneaded the face where the cheekbones were protruding due to malnutrition.

As I was customizing like that, I realized that the body modification skill wasn’t simply a skill that could only change the appearance, as I had thought.

There are diseases in the body too? Let’s remove the diseases too. Let’s remove the lice in the head too. And delete the parasites in the large intestine.

Literally, I could change anything related to the body as I wished.

As I was busily kneading the man’s body, a strange sound burst from the man’s mouth.

“Ugh. Ugggh! S-sir!”

The sound of bones twisting.

The sound of joints, muscles, nerves, and blood vessels twisting and rearranging at will started to be heard incredibly loudly.

Hearing the beggar’s screams and the eerie sound of his body being reconstructed, other beggars and people from the slums started to gather around.

Good.

Keep coming and see.

And spread the word.

After about 3 minutes of extre concentration touching the beggar’s body.

Finally, after changing everything inside and outside the body to a satisfactory degree, I removed my hand from the beggar.

The beggar collapsed on the ground.

He fumbled his body with an astonished expression, then slowly threw off the pus-stained straw mat he was wearing and started to take off his clothes.

The man, who had thrown off not only his outer clothes but also his underwear, sat down with an indescribable expression and looked at his body again and again.

People had already gathered around to an uncomfortable degree, alternately looking at and the man while muttering.

I tried not to lose the character I had grabbed and held out my hand to the beggar.

“Stand up and walk on two feet.”

The beggar grabbed my hand.

I helped him stand up.

The beggar stood on two feet on the ground.

I let go of the hand I was holding and stepped back, and the man slowly started to walk forward one step at a ti.

Although his steps were slow, the man was walking perfectly.

After walking around lightly once, the beggar suddenly approached , slowly knelt down, and started to kiss my shoes.

“Saint!”

The beggar, shedding tears, grabbed my ankle and frantically kissed my shoes.

“A, a saint.”

“He bestowed a miracle!”

“S-saint!!”

The surrounding poor people all knelt down without exception.

Well, it’s natural for them to do so.

Legends about saints were known to everyone throughout the Arcal Empire, and what I did exactly matched that.

Good. Things are going as I wanted!

I stopped the beggar who was frantically kissing my feet and gently helped him stand up.

“S-saint. I have nothing to repay you with.”

At those words, I desperately racked my brain.

Let’s see.

A saint-like line.

I squeezed my mories of self-help books I had read in Korea and my ti in Sunday school to the maximum to deliver a line that matched the character.

“I do not desire money. Repay what I have done for you not with material things, but with your life.”

“I-I will do that, Saint! I will do that!!”

The sobbing beggar hugged and cried bitterly.

I patted him on the back and then looked at the people around.

The gazes were intense.

It felt like a mont where I should say sothing cool.

There’s no helping it.

I’ll have to plagiarize a Sunday school line once more.

“Co to , all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

At those words, an enormous crowd suddenly gathered.

“Saint! Please heal my son!”

“I have a mother who can’t see!”

“Saint!! My son is dying! We don’t have money to treat him! Please cure him!!”

I was almost overwheld by the trendous voices.

Fortunately, it seed the word would spread properly.

I was planning to pretend to be a saint only until I healed the witch and then bolt anyway.

Let’s try to prevent the apocalypse ending event.

Thinking that, I focused on healing those who ca to with body modification as much as possible.

That was fine, but.

“The saint of Lilia of Grace is here!!”

“The Goddess of Grace has sent us a saint!”

“The Saint of Healing!! The Saint of Healing!”

I didn’t say anything.

I didn’t say anything about the Lilia Order or anything like that!!

Damn it.

Why are the nas of specific religious orders suddenly starting to be heard?!?!?!