Chapter 62

Rumors are truly terrifying.

By the time I had treated nearly all the injured homeless people near the river, a chaotic swarm of sick and wounded had already formed around me.

“Saint! Please, please heal me!!”

“I can’t see!”

“Help me!!”

At this point, I’ve done this enough times to get a sense of how things will go.

“Those who have already received treatment, help me! Form a line! Prioritize bringing critically ill patients and children to me first! If we descend into chaos, more people will only end up getting hurt!”

“Yes! Understood!!”

“Peter! Anna!!”

As I shouted while frantically tending to the injured, the first family I had healed rushed toward me.

After patting Jim and Amy on the head, I gave the couple a command.

“You know where my house is, right? Here’s the key. Go inside and bring me a pouch I’ve hidden under my bed. There’s gold in it.”

“G-Gold?”

“Use it to buy food and distribute it to the people.”

If I needed more gold, I could always ask for it again.

The damage was already done.

It wouldn’t take long before the Imperial Family and the Temple of the Gods caught wind of what I was doing and came rushing in.

By then, I’d just ask for more gold and escape again. That’s why I didn’t hesitate to share the gold I had now.

“…Alright.”

The couple blankly took the key from me, and I gave them a reassuring smile.

“And with that gold, treat yourselves to a good meal with your family. Let Jim and Amy get some proper sleep. You’ve been through so much, so you need to eat well and rest. Understand?”

Hearing my words, the couple clenched their fists, their hands trembling as if holding back tears.

No need to shake like that.

If anything, I’m the one who feels guilty.

I could have saved them sooner, but I didn’t because of my own circumstances.

“…We’ll do that.”

“For now, you two should get some rest too. You only just recovered, don’t overdo it. Got it?”

“Thank you, Saint. We will never forget this.”

Even after Peter’s family disappeared with my key, I continued to pour everything I had into healing the people.

“Those who have been treated, help organize the incoming patients! Prioritize critical cases and children!!”

“Order! Form a line! You must stay in line so that treatment can be as efficient as possible!!”

One week.

I would stay for exactly one week, and then I’d leave.

Not a single day more.

I couldn’t allow my divine power to consume any more faith and grow beyond my control.

So, I had to heal as many people as possible in the short time I had.

I treated people day and night.

When my body grew unbearably exhausted, I modified it with divine reinforcement to erase my fatigue.

And when my mind became too worn out, I would lie down for a brief nap.

Yet, no matter what I did, an inexplicable sense of emptiness and exhaustion kept creeping in.

“Saint! Please heal my daughter!!”

“My son is sick!!”

“My seven-year-old daughter is in pain! Saint, please, I beg you!!”

Children.

I didn’t understand how there could be so many children.

Children with severed legs.

Children with ruptured eyes.

Children without arms.

Children whose muscles had deteriorated to the point that they could barely walk.

And the reasons their parents sobbed and pleaded with me were just as horrifying.

“He was working sixteen-hour shifts, and in his exhaustion, he got sucked into the machine…”

“She was cleaning a chimney and inhaled toxic gas, and now she can’t see…”

“The factory refused to compensate us even a single penny, despite my child being injured.

Please, Saint…”

I healed the children like a madman.

Again and again.

A world where even three-year-olds were forced to work.

A world where those children labored for sixteen hours a day, too tired to stay alert, only to be swallowed whole by machines.

Losing just a limb was considered lucky.

I had heard countless stories of children so small that they were completely devoured by the machinery, leaving nothing behind.

Children working in textile factories had their bones twisted and deformed from grueling labor, forcing them to walk with limps.

Others, having never been allowed proper sleep, were exposed to toxic chemicals and went blind.

The more I healed, the more sorrow and fury took root in my heart.

Making money?

Sure, it’s important.

Even I understood that.

But no matter what, there had to be a line.

And this—this had long since crossed that line.

What sickened me even more was the attitude of the workers who, even after being healed, couldn’t bring themselves to feel joy.

“Will you be staying here long, Saint?”

“Now that I’m healed, I have to go back to the factory and work again… but what if I lose my hands or go blind this time?”

“I might need treatment again soon. Can you stay here for a while? I don’t have a single penny to my name, but I’ll work for you like today.”

Disgusting.

It was sickening.

So revolting that it made me want to vomit.

The sheer greed of those who mass-produced suffering on a city-wide scale, turning human beings into disposable commodities—it was disgusting.

Forcing children, who should be playing and growing up, into grueling labor that even Korean warehouse workers wouldn’t be subjected to, and not even paying them properly—it was beyond repulsive.

I finally understood why more and more people were carrying around those red books.

And I understood why the police were so desperate to hunt them down.

This was a mad era.

And the ones most consumed by greed, the true monsters of this city,

were none other than its elite.

The factory owners.

I did everything I could.

I cut down on sleep, skipped meals, and desperately healed the victims of their insatiable greed.

But no matter how much I struggled, there were limits to what I could do.

“Saint!! My daughter!! My daughter!!”

A mother rushed toward me, cradling her little girl in her arms.

“Her fever won’t go down after getting injured at the factory!! Please, save her!!”

She held out a child whose arm had been crushed.

I hurriedly placed my hand over the wound.

She was dead.

Yet again, a life had slipped away before I could save it.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at the mother’s devastated face.

I turned my head away.

“…It’s too late.”

“A-Ah…! AAAAAAHHHH!!”

“Give her a proper burial. She has passed.”

“P-Please!! Please, perform a miracle! This morning—this very morning, she was still alive!!

Saint! I beg you, a miracle!!”

There was no way to bring a dead body back to life.

Looking at the mother, still clinging desperately to her daughter’s lifeless body, hope refusing to die in her tear-filled eyes—I felt as if I would collapse alongside her.

“…I’m sorry.”

As I forced the words out in a trembling voice, an animalistic wail erupted from her throat.

They call it chamcheok—the sorrow of a parent who has lost their child.

And it was unbearable to listen to.

“…If only… if only I had come a little earlier. Why…?”

The mother’s voice, choked with sobs, trembled as she spoke.

And at that moment, something inside me felt like it was about to explode.

Eventually, she passed out from grief, and the people around her carried her away.

Even long after she had disappeared from sight, I kept staring at the spot where she had stood.

“…Why the hell… is there no hospital in this city?”

My voice was hoarse as I spoke.

Those I had healed let out bitter laughs.

“There is one. Probably the best doctors in the Empire work here. This city has a strong distaste for religion, so medical science has advanced quite a bit.”

“Then why…”

“It’s expensive. Medicine is expensive, and doctors are even more expensive.

For workers like us, going to a hospital isn’t even an option.”

Of course.

Of course it wasn’t.

At this point, it was no mystery why people were turning to those red books.

No mystery why the authorities were so desperate to suppress them.

I knew exactly how this would end.

A society that rejected magic, faith, and religion—rotting from within due to endless greed—I knew exactly what its fate would be.

It would split.

Red versus blue.

A war to the death.

And in the end, neither the red nor the blue side would be a place where the weak could survive.

The blue faction would win in the end, but the sheer amount of blood that would be spilled along the way… Just thinking about it made me dizzy.

What was I even saving these people for?

There had to be a deeper solution.

If not, my efforts were nothing more than a pointless struggle.

These people would get hurt again.

And again.

Until the festering wounds of society burst open and boiled over into violent revolution.

They would fight for paradise, only to plunge into hell.

What was I supposed to do?

I had nothing but some half-baked game-like skills.

How the hell was I supposed to make their lives better?

The thought of healing for just one week and then running away…

It had already started to fade from my mind.

The grief and rage I had witnessed in just these few days were too immense, too horrifying for me to simply walk away.

I had to do something.

I was still caught in those thoughts,

when, exactly two days after I had started treating people—

“Move!! Get out of the way, you filthy rats!!”

The city’s police arrived, shoving aside the injured as they marched toward me.

A young girl I had been treating was roughly pushed aside.

Surrounding me, the officers pointed their guns and clubs in my direction.

“Jericho Amael. Are you the so-called ‘Saint of Healing’ from the capital?”

Unkempt from two days of no sleep or food, I slowly looked up at the officers.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“I have one question for you. Do you have a medical license?”

“…No.”

“Then you have been providing unauthorized medical treatment. That is a crime, Amael . More than that, your actions are interfering with the business interests of this city’s pharmaceutical companies and medical unions.”

“……”

“This is a serious violation of Imperial law. It is explicitly stated that any unauthorized actions causing significant financial harm to corporations are punishable under Imperial law, with the severity of the punishment left to the discretion of the local authority.”

“So, what exactly are you saying?”

“Leave the city. Otherwise, we will have no choice but to interrogate you for the crime of inflicting severe economic damage on private enterprises. You are also under suspicion of being a laborist. Frankly, I’d rather not have to interrogate someone favored by both the Temple of the Gods and the Imperial Family as a laborist.”

A scoff escaped my lips.

A laborist?

The very people responsible for creating this sea of sick and injured—they’re the ones trying to get rid of me under that excuse?

“Will you submit to interrogation, or will you leave quietly?”

At the officer’s words, murmurs spread among the patients surrounding us.

“But—my daughter hasn’t been treated yet!!”

“Please, heal me! I can’t see! Saint!!”

“My son—please, heal my son! Don’t leave us!!”

The cries of the people made the officer’s eyes narrow in irritation.

“Do you want to be arrested under suspicion of being a laborist? Do you want to be sent to the labor camps?”

At the brutal threat, fear that had been branded into them over the years reawakened, and the patients instinctively flinched, retreating in fear.

“Free healthcare? Social welfare? All nonsense spewed by laborists!! If you’re so eager to be treated for free, your mindset is already questionable at best. If you don’t want to end up in the camps, back off!!”

The officer crushed their spirits in mere moments.

Then, as if nothing had happened, they turned back toward me.

“Leave quietly, Amael . Don’t stir up these worthless rats and cause disruptions that could harm the businesses and factories. That would be a clear violation of Imperial law.”

Their expression, full of irritation and impatience, as if urging me to just disappear already, made me laugh.

My rage had hit its limit.

The pharmaceutical companies and medical unions—who hadn’t even bothered to treat these people in the first place—were now trying to kick me out just because their minuscule profits had taken a hit?

Fine. I could accept that.

Their arrogant tone, as if I were nothing more than a nuisance?

I could tolerate that too.

Their utter indifference to the suffering of the poor, their unwillingness to spare even a sliver of their wealth while watching countless people die?

Even that, I could understand.

But calling them—these desperate, suffering people—trash?

“Tch.”

Trash?

Telling me not to ‘incite the filth of this city and disrupt order?’

That, I cannot forgive.

That—I will never forgive.

I lifted my hand.

The officer who had been barking orders suddenly froze.

I cast Time Stop around his throat.

Then, ever so slowly, I began lifting the frozen space into the air.

He flailed wildly, his body rising as if he had been caught in an invisible grip.

“Kh…!! W-What the hell…!!”

He struggled, kicking his legs in the air, but it was useless.

I glared at him, my long-suppressed rage boiling over.

Trash?

No.

“These are the people I healed. The people I will heal. The people I have vowed to protect.”

The only trash here is you.

“Do not dare to call those I show mercy to—filthy!!!!”

Two days of pent-up fury erupted from me in a roar so powerful that the air itself seemed to tremble.

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