This Isn't an E*otic Game?

Chapter 4

"No way, isn’t this supposed to be Time Stop!? Everyone else’s time should freeze while I can move freely!"

This wasn’t the Time Stop I knew!

I grunted and tried to move, but my body felt completely frozen, as though encased in ice, refusing to budge.

Did I spend about thirty minutes trying to move within this frozen time?

Eventually, I managed to take a single step forward.

How did I do it?

By painstakingly designating my body and the space I was advancing into as small zones where time would resume, taking a step forward, and then reapplying Time Stop to the newly unfrozen areas. It was a laborious, frustrating, and mentally exhausting process.

What kind of skill is this!? Why is it so complicated!?

The controls were absurdly difficult!

It was clear that using Time Stop on the same level as those ridiculous memes would require an insane amount of practice.

All I wanted was to step outside and take a break, but even that wasn’t allowed.

Life really...

Sucks.

I sighed deeply and released Time Stop.

“Saint! Saint!”

“My son is sick! Saint, please!”

The cries of the sick and the poor reverberated like a chorus.

At this rate, the saint’s going to die!

People, come on, let me rest!

I debated shouting at them to scare them off, but then—

"Make way! Make way, you filthy wretches!"

A group of people pushed through the crowd surrounding me with loud, commanding voices.

Their chests bore a distinct emblem of flames: the insignia of the Sun Church, worshippers of the sun god Rofus.

I’d heard of the Sun Church before.

They believed that status and wealth were gifts from their god.

Naturally, they also believed that poverty and low birth were curses from the divine.

Like the Church of Lilia, they were known for offering healing services, but only for the wealthy elite.

To put it in modern terms, they ran hospitals exclusively for VVIPs.

The priests of the Sun Church arrived accompanied by knights in plate armor and armed guards wielding pistols and clubs. The slum dwellers hesitated, parting like the Red Sea before Moses.

At the forefront was a hulking figure, so massive it was hard to tell if he was a priest or a bear, stomping his way toward me.

"So, you’re the so-called Healer Saint, sent by the goddess Lilia?”

I’m terrified.

Absolutely terrified.

I’ve never even uttered the name “goddess Lilia” before! Why am I suddenly being accused of claiming to be a saint from a specific church!?

What a goddamned trap.

There was no way out of this.

I had no choice but to double down on the persona I’d created.

Straightening my back, I looked the giant man in the eye with the calmest expression I could muster.

"I belong to no church."

Unregistered magic use is a crime punishable by hanging, but falsely claiming to be a saint sent by a specific deity? That’s punishable by burning at the stake. So, I had to answer this way.

Apparently, this was a mistake too.

"Not serving any god, are you? Then where does your power come from? Are you a magician?"

At the word "magician," the knights and guards subtly reached for their weapons.

Unregistered magic use equals hanging.

Unregistered magic use equals hanging.

Even though I felt like I was about to wet myself from fear, I feigned calm.

I had to respond vaguely, with something saintly sounding.

Ambiguous words...

"I’m simply a servant of the lowly and downtrodden."

There! Ambiguous enough!

The slum dwellers murmured among themselves, then began shouting.

"He healed us!"

"You dirty businessmen chasing after the wealthy! You’re not going to heal us, so why are you even here!?"

"Get lost! My son is sick! He needs treatment!"

At their outcries, the Sun Church priest roared back with a voice brimming with divine power.

"Silence, you filthy scum!"

It wasn’t just a yell—it was a miracle or magic of some sort.

No human voice could reach that volume naturally.

Hearing it at point-blank range, I froze on the spot, unable to move. The priest seemed to interpret my frozen state differently.

"Such boldness. You’re either a remarkable con artist or a genuine saint, judging by your refusal to flinch."

"You don’t believe I’m here for the downtrodden?" I said.

"Do you know how many frauds exist?" he sneered.

"You’re not worried about me being a fraud. You’re just a merchant fretting over losing potential clients for the Sun Church."

"Are you insulting the Sun Church now!?"

The knights began drawing their swords in anger.

Turning the Sun Church into an enemy would be suicide.

Quickly, I added, "I’m not insulting the Sun Church or Rofus. I’m simply saying that the man before me is dirty."

The priest burst into mocking laughter.

"You talk too much. Words are empty. If you’re truly a saint, prove it with a miracle!"

Raising my hand, I decided to follow through with my plan.

From my earlier attempts with Time Stop, I’d learned one thing: the skill allowed me to freeze time in a localized area and release it as needed.

I intended to freeze time around the priest’s legs, rendering him immobile. Then I’d declare, "Behold! Your lack of faith has brought divine retribution!"

That was the idea, anyway.

But my control over Time Stop was far from perfect, and I was worried.

Still, I had no other option.

If I didn’t act, it was certain death.

"Punishment for the unbeliever."

After uttering a suitably dramatic phrase, I targeted the priest’s legs and activated Time Stop.

Wait.

That’s not where it was supposed to go.

This isn’t working.

My lack of experience with the skill made my control... oh, crap!

"Guh! Gaaaaahhh! Aaaaaaahhh!"

The priest suddenly clutched his chest and began convulsing.

"Urgh... Urgh... Urgh..."

He collapsed, seemingly suffering a heart attack.

I frantically tried to release Time Stop, but my panic only made it harder to control.

"Father Barduk! Father Barduk!"

"Please, wake up!"

The knights rushed to the fallen priest while I stood frozen, my hand still raised.

Release it already! Please!

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to undo the localized Time Stop around his heart.

"Cough! Gaaahhh!"

The priest gasped, breathing again, but the knights’ expressions turned murderous as they drew their glowing swords.

"You heretical fraud! You dare impersonate a saint and attempt to kill a priest of the Sun Church!?"

"We’ll burn you at the stake!"

I was doomed.

I froze again, too terrified to move.

If they took one more step toward me, I’d collapse to the ground, begging for my life while wetting myself.

But they didn’t take that step.

"Father Barduk! You’re safe!..."

Unlike the knights readying to arrest me, the ones supporting the fallen priest suddenly froze mid-sentence.

And they weren’t the only ones.

Everyone, including me, the slum dwellers, and the police, stared at Barduk in stunned silence.

Why?

Because Barduk’s appearance had changed.

The muscular priest was gone, replaced by a slender, snake-like man with sharp features.

And on his forehead was a vivid inverted pentagram.

The man frantically touched his forehead, his face turning pale.

"A worshipper of the Evil God!"

One of the slum dwellers shouted.

"The Evil God’s worshipper was in disguise all along!"

This time, it was a police officer who shouted.

The knights joined in.

"The inverted pentagram on his forehead!"

"The symbol of the Evil God!"

"Arrest him!"

Chaos erupted as the man disguised as Barduk was restrained.

I stood there, wide-eyed, blinking.

This... turned out well, right?@@@@