Wasn’t This a Night Game

Drive Them Out

“Mama. I’m cold. I don’t want to go in!”

Jim screamed.

Amy was weeping.

But Peter and Anna held tightly to their hands, refusing to let go.

“If you don’t go in, it’ll only hurt more. You don’t want to hurt anymore, do you?”

“Let’s go. Jim. Amy. If we go this way, it won’t hurt anymore.”

The couple embraces the sobbing siblings.

And stroking the children’s backs, the two slowly began to wade into the river.

“It’s alright. It won’t hurt anymore. It’s alright.”

Slowly.

The water began to swallow them whole.

Seeing this, I nearly rushed forward, but I stood rooted to the spot as if nailed there.

Unleashing the Demon Lord’s power and turning the earth into hell?

The absolute worst.

My beloved women ruined because of my power?

Horrifying.

But above all else, what was most frightening and terrifying was still being eternally consumed by flames in hell.

If I use the power, I’ll go to hell.

And I didn’t want to go to hell.

I just wanted to stay quiet like this, then find a black mage or a demon worshiper, and quietly obliterate my soul and be done with it.

I wanted to go back to Korea.

What is this family to me?

At most, they just gave me a few loaves of dark bread, right?

I’m grateful, but going to hell to save them just doesn’t add up, no matter how I look at it.

So, I have to go back.

I have to go back…

“Mama. I don’t want to die!”

The child wails.

That desperate single sentence finally stops the couple in their tracks.

Standing in water up to their chests, the couple begins to unleash a heart-wrenching cry, the likes of which I’d never heard before.

Unable to go further in.

Unable to come back out.

They just stood there, blankly, weeping.

Dawn.

In the cold, dark emptiness.

Around the river, people like Peter and Anna’s family – homeless people, somewhere broken – hung limp, without a hint of hope or salvation, blankly watching the family about to end it all.

The only one who could save them was me.

Be tormented in hell for eternity.

Or just abandon those people, people who barely mean anything to me, and run back to Korea.

Such a simple choice.

A disgustingly simple choice, really.

“Peter!! Anna!!”

My mind was screaming at me to choose the latter.

But my body was already leaping into the river.

Undoubtedly, I would regret this moment later.

I could already see myself pounding the earth in regret.

Even so, I couldn’t stop myself.

“Don’t die!!”

When I came to my senses, I had already pulled the four family members out of the river.

The condition of the four souls pulled from the river was truly wretched.

Their bodies, of course, were as cold as glacial ice, and they were all shaking as if seized by a fit.

But even more gravely wounded than their bodies, it seemed, were their hearts.

“Why did you save us?”

Peter, missing an arm, choked out the question, tears welling.

“What’s the point of living? Why did you save us? How are we supposed to live… like this…”

His voice was broken, but the fact that he was weeping seemed to suggest that he hadn’t completely abandoned hope.

Not yet.

I hesitated.

The moment I used my ability, word would inevitably spread, one way or another.

A family who only yesterday had lost an arm and gone blind, suddenly whole again overnight?

Even if I erased the memory of my healing through absolute hypnosis after the fact, suspicious people would be born and try to figure it out, and inevitably they’d find their way to me.

So I should either never use it, not even once…

Or, since I’d already used it, and people were bound to come looking…

I might as well heal as many as I could.

I glanced around.

A sea of homeless souls, much like Peter’s family, each slumped over, nursing a private injury.

I couldn’t simply heal Peter’s kin and ignore these others.

They, too, deserved it.

No.

Perhaps these were people who suffered even more, endured greater hardships than Peter’s family.

Freezing time would be much easier to manage now, too.

Escape was always an option.

So, just this once, grant me a reprieve. Goddess.

I’ll take responsibility, I’ll martyr myself before my powers fully bloom.

To have the ability to heal these people and simply abandon them felt like too much.

It truly felt like too much.

“You gave me dark bread, didn’t you?”

I released the physical modification masking my face.

Slowly.

My face returning to its original form.

“That was hope for me. So, I will give you hope in return.”

I cast the physical modification on Peter.

Healing his severed arm, mending his frozen flesh.

And, as an aside, cleansing his body of all impurities, all the accumulated waste.

Then came Anna.

Then Jim. And Amy.

Eyes, once lost to darkness, regained their sight; severed arms sprouted anew, whole and untouched.

Lungs, choked and ruined by the dust of the mill, returned to their pristine state.

In an instant.

All of them transformed, healthier than they had ever been.

“The, my arm…”

Peter stared at his limb.

“Mommy! I can see! I can see!”

Little Jim cried out, awestruck.

“I see too, Mama! Papa! I can see!”

Amy echoed, her fingers tracing the contours of her eyes.

And finally, Anna, breathless, could only look at me.

“E-, Eleos…”

I stroked her hair.

“I am sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.”

Forgive me for being a coward.

But my own damnation hung in the balance.

It took me time to decide.

So, please, forgive me.

I finished treating the family, and looked around.

The vagrants, who just moments ago were staring at me with listless, hopeless eyes, were all standing as one.

Heal them.

Heal them, and before my power grows too vast, flee.

One week.

Heal them for just one week, then escape.

I simply cannot stand by and ignore them.

“I will heal you.”

At my words, every vagrant in the vicinity rose from their spots, yelling in unison.

“Eleos!!”

“Me, heal me!! Me!!”

Seeing the people surging toward me in a frenzied rush, my strength completely drained away.

I have, ultimately, chosen the road to hell.

Still, strangely, I felt no regret.

I began to heal the afflicted who had gathered before me.

My thinking had been flawed.

Next time, I must go to a place utterly devoid of people.

That, at least, was a lesson I could certainly learn from this moment.

*

The scrapyard was, for Mammon, a location of absolute perfection.

A chasm of extreme polarization: money-mad entrepreneurs on one side, the impoverished suffering on the other.

Human greed, endlessly festering under the banner of capitalism.

Worse, a culture that rejected all religion, all faith, all magic, leaving not a single temple in the whole city.

A succulent prize ripe for the taking, untouched by the Pantheon’s gods, unshielded from the influence of dark deities.

Mammon saw the city and conceived a grand design.

To swallow whole the souls and spirits of every human within its walls.

To then mold all of it, every last scrap, into his own dominion.

With this ambitious dream, he had spent decades of time and effort, tirelessly guiding the city towards decay and darkness.

Now, just a little more, and his plan would be complete.

A battle of avarice and ambition.

And a magnificent scheme to gulp down all the human souls and resentments spilled in its wake—just a little more until it was done.

But at the final moment.

Someone appeared to spoil it all.

[The Saint of Healing? Why is *he* here?]

A being whose sudden arrival defied all sense or explanation.

The Saint of Healing.

Known as the chosen of Lilia, who was more uniquely damaged among the gods of the Pantheon.

And for a Chosen of such a damaged Lilia, he wielded power beyond comprehension, obliterating shards of dark gods.

An existence that made no logical sense, had abruptly taken root in a corner of *his* city, and was now… healing people.

[Must be driven out. What audacity, to interfere in another’s domain?]

It was as if an uninvited guest had barged onto the elaborate stage he’d meticulously prepared for decades.

Just as Mammon moved to swiftly eliminate the Saint – variables were unwelcome –

[Chase him away? I wouldn’t do that if I were you.]

A familiar stench and repulsive voice echoed in Mammon’s ear.

Mammon’s brow furrowed deeply.

[How did a maggot from the Abyss crawl all the way up here?]

Mammon snarled, spitting out the words at the mere sight of the loathsome Evil God.

But the Evil God remained unfazed.

[I came to deliver a rather interesting piece of information.]

[Come to spew more lies, no doubt. As if I’d fall for your deceit again. Get lost. Don’t interfere with me.]

The moment he summoned his authority to cast the Evil God from his domain,

[The Saint of Healing actually possesses the authority of Asmodeus, the Demon King.]

Mammon flinched at the words that dripped from the Evil God’s mouth, halting his expulsion.

[My interest is piqued? What novel drivel is this now?]

[Just as I said. Asmodeus himself is playing the Saint. I discovered this when a fragment of me entered his body.]

The Evil God grinned slyly.

[Logically speaking, does it make sense for that broken husk, Lilia, to send down a Chosen One?]

[It doesn’t.]

[If he was my Chosen One, he wouldn’t have destroyed my fragment, and it wasn’t me, it wasn’t the Pantheon, so what is it? it’s Pandemonium’s Authority.]

[Could it not be one of the divine beings that fell during the Celestial War, revived in human form? Even that b*stard Lupus of Justice, the Solar Church’s deity, was once human before his divinity was restored and he ascended to the Pantheon, wasn’t he?]

[Right. Perhaps even the gods of the Pantheon delude themselves similarly. But I am correct. The Saint is performing miracles with the power of Asmodeus.]

Mammon chuckled.

[Such preposterous drivel, it compels one to continue listening. So, what is it you wish to convey? Bug of the Abyss.]

[The power of Lust. Consume it.]

The Evil God whispered, as if in tempting seduction.

[I know of your plot to sow chaos in the Scrap Yard, devouring souls and grudges. But even if you meticulously cleaned that up, it would pale in comparison to consuming another Demon Lord’s power, no? When will such a grand opportunity arise again?]

[…….]

[Lucifer has severed the connection between the human realm and the celestial realm for three centuries. Save for Dullahan, Rhophes, and Rupiel, the other gods cannot issue divine word, let alone choose a Selected One. Furthermore, I am sharing information with you alone that no other Demon Lord knows. Even if you consume the power of Lust, it would be unstoppable.]

The Evil God grinned gleefully.

Mammon stared back at the Evil God with a sullen expression.

[I indulged you because it’s the first time you’ve spun such absurd nonsense instead of a plausible lie, but your intentions are transparent, almost painfully so. The bottom line is, you want me to meddle with the Saint, don’t you?]

[Indeed.]

[The Pantheon would be most displeased. Furthermore, if I interfered with the most important being in the human Empire, even the Imperial Family would mobilize. Then, the tower I’ve diligently built in the Scrap Yard for decades would crumble to ruins. Do you think I don’t see through your black heart? You miserable bug?]

The Evil God shrugged.

[Believe it or not, it is your prerogative. But consider this carefully. As the Demon Lord of Greed, could you truly bear to let such an opportune moment slip through your fingers?]

[We are hardly on such affectionate terms that you’d genuinely worry, are we? Begone, you bug.]

Mammon snapped his fingers, and the Evil God’s illusion shattered and vanished.

Mammon shook his head, as if utterly dumbfounded.

If he could consume the power of Lust, it would undoubtedly be ideal from Mammon’s perspective.

But Mammon could simply not bring himself to trust a single word that Evil God uttered.

[As if I’ve fallen for that charlatan’s lies only once or twice.]

Be he a lustful fiend.

Or some lingering deity from the Pantheon left in the human realm.

Regardless, what mattered was that he threatened to derail the plan I had meticulously crafted over time.

An unforeseen character had no place onstage in the play I had prepared.

And to ensure that, I needed a legitimate excuse to banish him from the city without provoking the Imperial Court or the Pantheon.

[Deporting him for proselytizing isn’t exactly legal, is it?]

There merely exists a culture that frowns upon such activities.

Imperial law itself contained no statutes forbidding the act of proselytization outright.

However, the laws of the Empire, always skewed in favor of entrepreneurs over laborers, could be leveraged to facilitate a legal banishment if I clung to the matter of free healing, instead of proselytizing.

[He’s harming the pharmaceutical companies through free treatment… If I accuse him of being a labor agitator, I can have him deported.]

No matter how saintly, in this ruthless capitalist world, he was nothing more than someone hurting businesses.

Banishment in this manner would be legal, after which neither the Imperial Court nor the Pantheon would have anything to say against the Scrap Yards.

A satisfactory solution, indeed. Mammon grinned with contentment.