Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude

The soldiers had left, and Paul closed the door of the room.

Seeing this, the priest suddenly lost his composure, sweat beading on his forehead: “Lord Grayman, although I know I am handsome and talented, I have already dedicated everything to the Lord of Light.”

Paul, puzzled, said, “What are you talking about? Never mind, take off your clothes first, I want to see something.”

The priest thought to himself, “It’s over, I can’t escape this time. Alas, being too handsome is a sin. I’ve heard that nobility and the higher-ups in the church are into this sort of thing, but I didn’t expect such a young child to have acquired this vice.”

“Oh Lord of Light! Forgive your servant,” the priest silently prayed. Then, he lay down on the bed, turned his head towards Paul with tearful eyes, and said, “Please be gentle~”

“Stand up right now!” Paul exploded in anger, his face turning the color of liver, realizing what the priest was thinking. Pulling out his pistol, he intended to scare the priest, thinking, “How could a straight man like me ever do such a filthy act?”

“Ah? Oh! Okay, okay. Hehe, sorry about that,” the priest said, relieved as if granted a pardon, glad to have preserved his chastity.

Barely controlling his impulse to shoot the man before him, Paul took a few deep breaths and gritted his teeth, “Your clothes are torn, and I saw an interesting tattoo on your body.”

“Damn! How does he know about this?” thought the priest.

“Hehe! Lord Grayman, you must be seeing things,” the priest said nervously.

“No, no, I’m not mistaken! I’ve seen this shark-shaped tattoo on members of the Shark Gang. But, Mr. ‘Priest,’ the location of your tattoo is quite unique,” Paul continued.

“This… this…”

“Speak! Who exactly are you?” Paul demanded, pointing the barrel of his gun at the middle-aged man claiming to be a priest.

“I really am a priest of the church!” the middle-aged man pleaded again, collapsing to the ground. The weapon in the count’s hand clearly meant business. Without waiting to be asked again, he spilled a whole bunch of information like beans pouring out of a bamboo tube.

According to his confession, his name was John Morrison, originally a priest at a rural church in a nearby territory. The Shark Gang had raided the area, looting extensively and then abducting him. He thought he would be thrown into the sea to feed the fishes, but surprisingly, the pirate leader Shark forced him to join the pirate gang. Though these pirates committed all kinds of heinous crimes, including the boss Shark, many of them still had “spiritual needs” and required a real clergyman to preside over their confessions, prayers, and other activities.

Thus, John Morrison, the priest, rather unscrupulously took up the “glorious and promising” profession of a pirate, getting a gang symbol tattooed on his body — a shark with sharp teeth. He had been with the pirate group for a year.

Paul wasn’t surprised that pirates were religious. On Earth, there were sinners who fervently worshipped and prayed, their crimes only fueling their superstitions.

However, this John Morrison needed a thorough interrogation. Picking up a thick “Holy Scripture” that had fallen beside the cabinet, which the man had apparently been clutching all this time, Paul asked, “What does page 132 of this book say?”

“The world suddenly lit up like daylight, and that majestic voice echoed out of nowhere…” Morrison recited it flawlessly, not missing a single word from the entire page.

Continuing to ask him to recite from other parts of the book, Morrison also recited them word for word.

“Not bad at all.”

“Hehe! Lord Grayman, you flatter me.”

“Alright, I’ll tentatively believe in your identity as a priest!”

Morrison couldn’t hide his joy: “Thank you, Lord Grayman. Could you please send someone to take me back…”

“Do you want to live or die?”

Paul once again aimed the gun at Morrison.

Damn it! Morrison thought, having just escaped from a wolf’s den, only to enter a tiger’s lair. Are all these lords just like bandits?

“Lord Grayman, threatening a clergyman like this…”

“Bang!” A loud noise followed, and something whizzed past Morrison. He turned around to see a large hole in the wall.

The door was then kicked open, and a flood of soldiers rushed in, their weapons aimed at Morrison.

This was terrifying.

“Oh Father in Heaven, please protect your believer,” Morrison prayed desperately, nodding vigorously. “I want to live! Of course, I want to live.”

If Paul’s gun had been aimed slightly differently, Morrison’s head might have been blown open.

“Good! I, Paul Grayman, Count of Alda, conscript you into my army.”

“Uh… But Lord Grayman, I can’t lift or carry heavy loads.”

“Oh, you don’t want to? Alright, I won’t kill you, but I’ll just hand you over to the Northwest Bishop. Hehe, a clergyman staying with pirates for a year and having a pirate tattoo, I wonder what the bishop would say.”

“Serving you is my highest honor!”

Morrison’s face immediately took on a look of divine revelation.

“Don’t worry, you’ll just be doing some ideological work, meeting the religious needs of the soldiers. You know, we can’t carry a church with us as we march, so a military priest like you will be useful.”

Morrison didn’t hesitate: “I follow your orders, Lord Grayman.” Seeing the situation earlier, he knew this young count was not one to be trifled with.

Paul said, “However, when doing ‘ideological work’, there are things you should and shouldn’t say…”

Suddenly remembering the soldiers who had just rushed into the room, he changed the subject: “Never mind, I’ll teach you slowly. If you do well, I won’t mistreat you, but if you try any tricks, don’t expect me to keep your ‘little secrets’.”

Morrison raised his right hand solemnly: “In this sacred place, I swear to the Father in Heaven that I will serve in Lord Grayman’s army and be loyal to Paul Grayman. If he tells me to go east, I will not go west; if he tells me to chase a dog, I will not chase a chicken.”

He actually looked quite serious when he said that.

“Don’t believe you for a second,” Paul thought to himself, but still introduced him to the surrounding soldiers: “This is a clergyman abducted by pirates and imprisoned here. His church was burned down by the pirates. Did you all hear what he just said? From now on, he’s our military priest. Haha, that gunshot earlier was just me playing with Mr. Priest.”

The crowd responded, “Yes, Lord Count.”

…

“June X, 1990, of the Holy Calendar – that was my first meeting with Saint Paul. I was imprisoned in the church at Port Fran by pirates, who forced me to serve their gang. But my heart remained loyal to the Lord of Light, and I could not submit to evil forces. The pirates tortured and humiliated me, but I knew this was a test from God, and I endured with my willpower. When I was on the brink of death, Lord Saint Paul led his army to rescue me. The first time I saw him, a gentle light shone on him, and a majestic voice in my mind commanded: Follow him, assist him. I knew it was a divine revelation from the Lord of Light, and I joined his army without hesitation, helping him achieve great feats that were unimaginable at the time.” — Excerpt from the memoirs of John Morrison, the 250th Pope of the Church of Light.

“That was a day of sin, the details of which are now unclear. But what is certain is that from that day, the traitor Morrison sold his soul to the devil Grayman, becoming his pawn. Evil began to infiltrate the Church of Light, leading to corruption and degeneration, ultimately turning the church into a tool manipulated by the devil Grayman.” — Excerpt from a pamphlet by an underground sect claiming to be the orthodox Church of Light.