When the witch grabbed my hand, it felt as if the world had stopped.

Why is she holding my hand? Seriously, why?

Why is she asking for my name?

Listen, I have no intention of getting close to you. None. Zero.

I don’t make it a habit to keep ticking time bombs by my side, thank you very much.

So I tried to slip away and make a quiet escape…

But then she started going on about “divine rapture” or whatever and dragged me off to the nearest Sun Order temple.

“Divine rapture?!”

“Considering the absurd miracles you’ve been performing one after another, it’s only natural! Rofus, watch over us!”

At the temple, I was given the royal treatment.

Priests surrounded me, pouring holy energy into my body, while I was served freshly cooked meals and given a luxurious, soft bed to rest on.

Should I have run away right then?

Yes. The answer is yes.

I should have bolted. The witch was healed, after all.

There was no longer any reason for me to keep pretending to be a saint.

So why, pray tell, was I lying in bed, eating food, and taking a break?

It was because of the witch, sitting next to me, holding my hand with those sparkling eyes.

Damn dark sorceress!

Someone please arrest her! Take her away from me!

She’s terrifying!

“Don’t be afraid,” she said gently, gripping my hand as if welcoming a cult leader.

“I’m here. I won’t let you fall, Saint.”

This bomb seems determined to stay by my side.

But I can’t allow that! Who knows when she might explode again?!

“Witch.”

“Erfa. My name is Erfa, Saint.”

“Erfa. Please return to your home. I am perfectly fine.”

Really. I’m fine.

I don’t have divine rapture or anything like that.

I’m just sweating and trembling because you’re sitting next to me, and it’s absolutely nerve-wracking!

“I can’t. Please, let me stay by your side until you’ve recovered, Saint.”

“I’m truly fine.”

“But because of me…”

Clearly, being polite wasn’t going to work. I’d need to be more direct.

“Erfa, you are beautiful now. No one will ever judge you for your appearance again. But what’s more important than your outward appearance is your inner self.”

“My… inner self?”

“If your heart lacks peace, what good is a flawless exterior? I am just a humble healer. I can mend what’s external, but I cannot heal your heart. Only you can do that for yourself.”

“What should I do, then? Please, tell me the way.”

How about you just stop talking and disappear?

I’m running out of things to say!

Self-help books, Sunday school sermons—help me!

“Have a conversation with yourself. Reflect and discover what you truly desire. You are no longer shackled by your past. You are free now. Think about how you want to live your life and where you want it to go.”

“...”

“I was just a crutch. The sick need crutches, but once healed, they set them aside. Leave me behind and soar as high as you wish. Find what you truly wanted and move toward it. That is what I wish for you.”

In other words: please just leave me alone.

I said it all with a benevolent smile, and Erfa started crying again.

“How could I ever repay you for this grace? How can I possibly repay you?”

You don’t need to.

I’m going to run away anyway.

“I didn’t do this expecting repayment. If you wish to repay me, do so with your life. Live a wonderful and admirable life. Let go of hate and resentment, and learn to love yourself.”

And please, don’t explode.

Got it?

I won’t be seeing you again.

I stared nervously as Erfa slowly stood up.

“I swear. With my entire life.”

She smiled radiantly.

She’s ridiculously beautiful, but no matter how pretty a bomb is, it’s still a bomb.

“For you, I will live a remarkable life.”

“I believe you will, Erfa. You’re more than capable.”

“Thank you. I’ll never forget this.”

You can forget it.

Actually, please forget it.

Erfa bowed to me cautiously, then left the room.

Only after the door closed behind her could I collapse onto the bed.

I thought I was going to die.

Why is every single day like a roller coaster?

The witch , who had been keeping a close watch on me, was finally gone.

Now I could slip away quietly.

That’s how most of the legendary “saints” of the Arkhal Empire end their stories anyway.

“I have bestowed my blessings upon you. Sin no more and live a life of ethics and morality.”

Blah, blah, poof. Disappear.

I was determined to avoid an ending like, “Oh no, the Lilia Order has shown up and realized you’re not a follower of their goddess. Heretic! Burn him!”

Absolutely not. Screw that.

I got up from the bed, opened the door, and stepped outside.

“Saint! You shouldn’t be getting up yet—”

“It is time,” I interrupted, smiling as I looked at them.

“I must leave now. May grace guide our paths to cross again someday.”

“Wait, but Saint! The Lilia Order has arrived earlier than expected, and they’re on their way here right—”

Early?

Oh, hell no.

I had to get out. NOW.

I immediately activated Time Stop.

The world froze.

Gritting my teeth, I began moving, releasing and reactivating the skill in small bursts to conserve energy as I made my way forward.

Every step drained me.

Body modification? Easy. All it took was pulling up a customization screen and making adjustments.

Absolute hypnosis? Sure, there was some mental strain during targeting, but after that, it was just issuing commands.

But Time Stop? This skill was absurdly draining.

Seriously, who designed this nonsense?

Why couldn’t it just be a simple “pause time, move around freely” kind of deal?

Maybe it was one of those things that worked fine in the game but got overly complicated when brought into reality.

Regardless, I forced myself to push forward, one exhausting step at a time.

Far in the distance, I saw a train pulling out of the capital, Mars City.

That’s my ticket out.

I’d board the train, hide in a bathroom, deactivate Time Stop, and then use body modification on myself.

This face was too well-known to keep using. I’d tweak my appearance, buy a ticket, and leave the capital without a hitch.

…At least, that was the plan.

But my mental stamina was nearing its limit.

I’d have to deactivate the skill and rest for a bit before continuing.

Scanning my surroundings, I spotted a filthy, shadowy alleyway near the train station.

Perfect. Nobody would be in such a disgusting, grimy place.

I’d rest there briefly, change my face, and leave this city for good.

Goodbye, Mars City. Let’s never meet again.

I deactivated Time Stop.

And immediately, I heard it.

“Stop! Please, I’m sorry! Aghhh!!”

The sound of flesh striking flesh, absent during the frozen moment, now reached my ears.

Even in such a filthy alleyway, there were people.

I froze at the horrifying sounds echoing around me.

“I told you to sell everything! You useless little brats!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll do it! Just please don’t burn me again!”

“Sell it all! Or I’ll burn the other side of your face too!”

“I’ll do it! I swear! Just don’t!”

The voices grew clearer.

A deep, rough voice yelled, and a softer, pleading voice—a child’s—sobbed in response.

Curiosity tugged at me despite myself. I glanced toward the alley.

There, huddled against a wall, were several young girls and a large man towering over them.

Their faces were grotesque.

Some girls were missing lips and cheeks, their skin burnt away. Others had broken or missing teeth.

They couldn’t have been older than seven or eight—kids who should have been laughing and playing with their fathers.

But here they were, crying and begging for mercy.

I was frozen, unable to look away from the scene.

The man spat on the ground and lit a cigarette.

“Damn factory scraps,” he muttered. “Even you lot should be useful. If you don’t sell enough matches, you’ll answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes! Yes, we will! Just don’t abandon us!”

“Pathetic little monsters. Fine, get out of here. But if you don’t bring back the money tomorrow, you won’t get any more matches to sell.”

The man spat again, yellow and disgusting, and turned to leave the alley.

That’s when he saw me.

He froze.

“You… you’re that healer from the slums, aren’t you?”

His emotions shifted quickly: confusion, then surprise, and finally… greed.

The man smirked, pulling a knife from his waistband.

“Saint, huh? Oh, merciful one, could you share some of that grace with me? A little cash would be nice. Surely you’ve got some leftover from those healing fees, yeah?”

As he approached, my body stiffened.

Time Stop? Too draining.

Body modification? Not enough time.

Absolute hypnosis? Targeting would take too long.

The man grinned, confident in my paralysis, and reached for my pocket.

As his eyes dropped to my pocket, instinct took over.

I touched him and activated a skill.

“Stay still!”

I swung my fist, aiming for his head, and jumped back.

It wasn’t even a strong punch—more of a wild, desperate swing.

The man looked stunned at first, as if mocking my weak attempt… but then his body began to tremble.

“Urgh… ack… AHHHH!!”

Sensory Overload at 3000x magnified everything—every nerve, every sensation, unbearable.

His blood vessels burst, crimson streaks spreading across his eyes as he clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth cracked.

Without a sound, he collapsed, a stream of blood trickling from his nose and eyes.

“Hey… are you okay?” I muttered, but there was no answer.

He was dead.

My first kill.

I’d just meant to scare him off.

Instead, I’d killed him.

The shock of what I’d done, combined with my drained stamina, overwhelmed me.

My vision spun.

As I collapsed, my final thought was this:

If a single punch can cause shock-induced death… how do those demon overlords survive everything at 3000x? They’re not human, that’s for sure.