Chapter 39

Saint’s Whip: Gone in a Flash

Baron Hanson desperately tried to keep his mouth shut.

But there was nothing he could do—he was already under hypnosis.

“Don’t move. Don’t resist. Don’t even think about casting a curse. Just sit there and answer my questions. Who is the Collector? What exactly do they do?”

“The Collector gathers grudges for the Order. Large quantities of resentment are necessary to perform miracles or curses of the Evil God. Our factory is one of the main sources for acquiring such resentment.”

A factory used as a source for gathering resentment?

No way…

“The fire at the factory. Did you set it on purpose? To amplify the despair and suffering of the people??”

Baron Hanson looked like a man who wanted to die. And then, he admitted it.

“Yes. That’s right. I did it on purpose. The Collector suddenly needed a large amount of resentment in a hurry. So, I deliberately started the fire.”

“And where was that resentment supposed to be used?”

“I don’t know. They never told me. My job was simply to assist the Collector in making the collection process easier.”

“Where is the Collector?”

Baron Hanson trembled violently.

The sheer terror of being forced to spill secrets against his will was etched all over his face.

But what choice did he have?

He confessed, spitting out the truth like it was poison.

“T-There… Over there, beyond the bookshelf. There’s a hidden passage concealed by the Miracle of Concealment. No matter how skilled a priest is, they won’t be able to find it.”

“Can you open it?”

“Yes. I can.”

“Then do it.”

At my command, Baron Hanson moved like a machine, walking toward the bookshelf.

He muttered an incantation and touched the books in a specific order.

Then, as if melting away, the bookshelf vanished, revealing a hidden passage behind it.

The thick, putrid stench of blood filled the air.

It was repulsive.

The moment that scent hit my nose, my rationality felt like it was snapping.

They burned people alive.

Deliberately.

Just to collect resentment?

I was too disgusted to even curse.

I’ll capture them all.

Drag them to the Grand Cathedral.

And in front of everyone—

Before the grieving families of those who died in that fire—

I’ll burn them at the stake.

Only then will the souls of the dead find even the smallest shred of solace!!

“You stay right here. Don’t move an inch. You, the Collector, and that fat bastard passed out outside—you’re all getting burned at the stake. That way, the souls of the people you murdered today will finally have some peace!!”

I spat in Baron Hanson’s face.

Then, without hesitation, I descended into the passage.

It didn’t take long before I saw her—

A woman kneeling over a blood-drenched magic circle, furiously chanting a spell.

That must be the one they called the Collector.

She was so focused on casting her spell that she hadn’t even noticed me approaching.

So this woman…

She was the reason for the fire?

Then you deserve to get your ass beat.

You deserve to get beaten to a pulp—

And then burned at the stake, you damn bitch!!

I lunged at the Collector.

And then—

“W-Wait?! How did you get—!! ……KYAAAAAH!!”

The Collector’s teeth flew into the air.

The Collector couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

The Miracle of Concealment was one of the most powerful miracles bestowed upon the followers of the Evil God.

Even the most skilled high priests…

Even the gods themselves had been deceived by it.

And yet, somehow, this lunatic saint wielding a belt had found his way into the hidden passage??

The Collector, who had been sent flying and spitting teeth, scrambled back to her feet.

A black aura flickered over her cheek, and in an instant, all her wounds vanished.

She clenched her teeth.

At this point, the only way to salvage the plan was to get rid of the saint—no matter what.

“You filthy servant of that whore goddess!!”

The Collector sacrificed the collected grudges from the factory to cast a curse.

A high-level curse.

Even if he was a saint of healing, there was no way he’d walk away unscathed from this.

A jet-black flame of malice burned in her hands.

“The one who drinks blood will never let you go—!!”

But something was wrong.

The saint wasn’t running away.

He wasn’t even dodging.

Instead, he was charging straight toward her.

With a smile.

Not just any smile—

A twisted, manic grin, overflowing with delight.

A chill ran down the Collector’s spine as she hurled the curse.

The black fire shot forward and struck the saint directly—

And did absolutely nothing.

“What…?!”

Her eyes widened in shock.

And at that moment—

The saint’s belt lashed across her cheek once more.

She flew back, violently coughing up more teeth.

As she struggled to her feet, she realized something—

This was no ordinary saint.

Does He Feel No Fear of Curses at All?

Curses were different from magic.

Unlike spells, which always produced the same outcome regardless of the target’s mental state, curses varied greatly depending on the target’s soul and mind.

Curses thrived on fear and terror, feeding off their host’s spirit and gradually consuming them.

No matter how many layers of defensive spells or divine miracles a person surrounded themselves with, as long as they harbored even the slightest fear of the curse, it would cling to their soul, tormenting them endlessly.

But conversely—if a person felt no fear or terror toward a curse at all, it would have no effect on them.

Even a newborn baby would instinctively feel fear upon seeing a curse.

And yet, that damned saint—his mind and soul were perfectly intact, and he still felt absolutely no fear toward the curse.

The absurdity of it made the Collector burst into laughter.

“You’re not an ordinary guy, are you? It’s clear now—my curse won’t be able to kill you.”

Since curses wouldn’t work, she had only one option left—enhancing her body and fighting him head-on.

Her nails elongated.

Jet-black claws, sharp and powerful enough to slice through steel, extended from her fingers like blades.

She sacrificed the grudges of countless humans, allowing the miracle of bodily enhancement to take effect.

Her muscles strengthened.

Her tendons clung more tightly to her bones.

She could feel her skeleton growing denser, her nerves firing at a faster rate.

And that wasn’t all.

The Evil God’s miracle—the one that transformed pain into pleasure—settled into her body.

Perfect.

With this, she could fight endlessly without ever feeling pain. A berserker in the purest sense.

Look at that saint’s scrawny frame.

It was obvious he’d never fought in close combat in his entire life.

“For the one who drinks blood! I will tear your soul and body to shreds!!”

She roared and charged at him.

She wouldn’t lose.

For the Evil God.

For the plan.

She was willing to burn away everything she had.

Her claws easily dug into the saint’s flesh—

And just as a victorious smile crept onto her lips—

“That’s just my afterimage.”

SMACK!

The sharp crack of leather against flesh rang out, and the Collector found herself soaring through the air—

Before crashing unceremoniously into the ground.

First, Baron Hanson’s curse didn’t work on me.

Now, this Collector woman’s curse didn’t either.

Why the hell weren’t these curses working on me?

“You’re not an ordinary guy, are you? It’s clear now—my curse won’t be able to kill you.”

…Son of a bitch.

“My curse won’t be able to kill you”?!

Are you saying I’m completely immune to normal curses?!

Why?!

Just let me get hit by a damn curse and have my soul shattered already!

So unless it’s some ultra-powerful fragment of an Evil God’s curse, my soul is impossible to break?!

If I try to scrape together a half-assed explanation, it’s probably because of all the lingering thoughts stuck to my body.

I remember hearing something like that before—

That curses were influenced by lingering thoughts.

That people who were constantly surrounded by positive energy were harder to curse.

And I have healed and saved an insane number of people…

So it’s because of all that positive energy?!

Bullshit!

That means the only thing that can break my soul is an ultra-high concentration curse originating from a fragment of an Evil God?!

As I silently screamed in frustration, the Collector suddenly extended her claws even further and lunged at me.

I quickly activated Time Stop and moved behind her.

This damn Time Stop.

It drains an infuriating amount of mental energy.

And considering I’d already used it earlier to save that little girl in the factory—plus all the energy I’d spent healing the sick—

Yeah. My mental reserves were running dangerously low.

I really need to come up with a more efficient way to use this.

No.

Wait.

That’s not the point.

I’m going to get cursed and return to Korea soon.

What’s the point in developing skills like these anymore?

I released Time Stop, stood behind her, and cracked my belt straight across the back of her head.

“That’s just my afterimage.”

WHACK!

The Collector was sent flying, crashing into the ground once again.

There’s no way even she could shake off that hit like it was nothing.

If she foamed at the mouth and passed out, I could just walk over, put her under absolute hypnosis, and subdue her completely.

That was what I was thinking—

Until…

“Hhhng♥ Aaah♥♥”

The Collector let out a lewd moan straight out of a pornographic film as she lifted her head from where she was embedded in the floor.

She giggled, staring straight at me.

“No matter how much you hit me, do you think I’ll even flinch? Pain… only brings me pleasure.”

If she raised both hands in a V-shape, she’d complete that infamous Ahegao Double Peace pose.

No, seriously.

Why the hell was she making that kind of face after getting smacked so hard she crashed into the ground?!

Ah.

Right.

She’s a worshipper of the Evil God.

Trying to apply logic to these lunatics is what’s truly insane.

“Hit me more! If that’s all you’ve got, you’ll never defeat me! Never!!”

The Collector burst into wild laughter and lunged at me.

I couldn’t even see her movements.

If I fought her head-on in hand-to-hand combat, I’d definitely lose!!

I hurriedly tried to activate Time Stop—

…Screw this.

Yeah, I had used it a lot today.

Back at the factory to save that little girl, just a moment ago, and now again…

Then, I had no choice—

I’d use Absolute Hypnosis to freeze her in place and—

She was moving too fast for me to lock on.

And since Absolute Hypnosis drained mental energy during the targeting process, and my reserves were already completely drained, even locking onto her was difficult.

Son of a bitch!!

I was planning to hypnotize her and make her spill everything she knew!!

“DIE, YOU WHORE GODDESS’S DOG!!”

As I fumbled, unable to cast Time Stop or Absolute Hypnosis, I saw the Collector’s claws slashing toward my throat.

If that hit—

I’d die.

If my head got sliced off, no amount of body modifications would save me.

My brain went blank from the sheer terror of impending death.

Then—instinct took over.

My enhanced body, strengthened through modification, threw itself backward at desperate speed.

Her claws barely grazed past my face.

And at the same time—

I grabbed her outstretched forearm, amplified my strength three thousandfold, and swung my belt.

CRACK!

With an explosive sound, my belt struck her across the face, sending her flying once again.

She crashed into the ground.

And then—

“Hngg♥♥♥”

She moaned.

Her body trembled violently, and then—

Like a fountain, she started peeing between her legs.

“Oghh♥ Ohgogoh♥ Hoooo♥ Aaang♥ Unggh♥”

As she let out those obscene moans, her eyes started turning blood-red.

Her heart must’ve been beating way too fast—

Every blood vessel in her body burst.

Blood poured from her nose.

Blood trickled from her ears.

Her tongue lolled out as she spasmed like a broken machine.

Then—she let out a final, piercing scream.

“UNGNYOOOOOOOOOOT♥♥♥♥♥”

With one last fountain spray, she convulsed violently—

And then went completely limp.

…I remember laughing at videos on crying fetish sites, thinking, Who the hell cries like that?

Turns out, some people really do.

The Collector, who had been climaxing with her eyes rolled back, suddenly stopped.

She slumped down like a puppet with its strings cut.

She wasn’t moving.

I cautiously approached and placed my hand on her body.

…No heartbeat.

And judging by the sheer amount of blood pouring from her nose, ears, and eyes her brain exploded from excessive pleasure.

This was Death by orgasm.

Damn it.

If I’d had even a bit more mental energy, I could’ve hypnotized her and squeezed out all her secrets…

What a waste.

“Saint!! You’re safe! W-Wait, what in the—?!”

“Blessings upon us! An Evil God worshipper!”

Just as I was standing there, staring dumbfounded at the Collector’s death by euphoric stroke, a group of knights from the Lilia Order and that old High Priest Yodel rushed into the room—probably after hearing all the noise.

They froze at the sight before them.

Completely stunned.

“She was an Evil God worshipper. I just took care of her.”

“G-Good heavens! An Evil God worshipper!!”

“Summon the White Order! Immediately!!”

As the police scrambled out of the room in a frenzy, the Lilia Order’s people suddenly dropped to their knees before me.

“Ohhh! To vanquish an Evil God worshipper out of righteous fury for the weak!”

“Blessings! This is a divine blessing!”

“Guide us, O Saint!!”

I let out a dry chuckle as I watched these priests burst into tears over something they thought was so moving.

This is exactly why the Goddess of Lilia is so pissed and wants to send me to hell.

“I’m not a saint. I keep telling you guys—I’m not a—”

“He denies his own divinity!! O Saint, lead us!!”

…You know what?

Fine.

Do whatever the hell you want.

In the end, once the Evil God’s fragment enters my soul, I’ll detonate it and finally get the hell back to Korea anyway.

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