Chapter 20: City of Sin (2)

‘Gosh, that startled me. You scared me.’

I had to press my hand against my wildly beating heart to calm my startled mind.

It was because of what the young man, Joseph, who had collapsed before me, had just done.

I had saved him, wondering what his circumstances were and thinking I’d hear him out… but to think he’d slit his own throat as soon as he woke up.

Startled by his unexpected and impulsive action, I had reflexively used my ability.

‘I managed to save him, for now….’

Soon, the young man opened his eyes again with a faint groan.

“Ugh……”

He stared blankly into the air, then suddenly touched his neck.

But his fingertips only met skin that had healed cleanly, without a single scar.

His expression showed he couldn’t understand how he was still alive and breathing.

“What in the….”

A confused question clouded Joseph’s eyes as he faced an unrealistic miracle.

Then, finally, his gaze turned to me.

His distant, unfocused eyes looked this way, like someone dreaming, and he asked in a trembling voice.

“….An angel? Are you perhaps…. God?”

Before I could answer, he spoke again, kneeling down desperately.

“If that’s true…. could you please…. forgive what I’ve done?”

His voice was filled with earnest longing.

A guilt so profound he wouldn’t hesitate to end his own life.

The memory of harming innocent people tormented him that much.

If I hadn’t used my ability just then, he would undoubtedly have died.

A craving for atonement flickered in his eyes, desperately seeking salvation.

But unfortunately, I was not the being he hoped for.

“First of all, I am neither an angel nor God. I am a person, just like you.”

My answer made his expression waver with even greater confusion.

I continued, regardless of his reaction.

“And, I have no right to forgive you.”

It was an obvious answer.

I hadn’t descended to judge him, and even if I were a truly divine being, it would likely be the same.

Back in my original world, I had heard such a story.

A story about a heinous murderer who, after belatedly converting to a religion in prison, nonchalantly said he had been forgiven by God for all his wrongdoings, thereby inflicting even greater pain on the victims’ families.

I believe that’s definitely wrong.

Sins committed against people must ultimately be atoned for to people.

Not a judge, not a cleric, not even God in heaven, but only the victims can forgive those wrongdoings.

“Then…..”

The young man still looked confused.

If the one who saved his life wasn’t God’s salvation, and if he hadn’t been forgiven for anything, then why, how was he still alive?

He asked again, his voice clearly reflecting that question.

“Then why did you… save me?”

“……That’s.”

I paused for a moment.

Initially, ST had suggested hiring another bodyguard, and I had simply agreed lightly.

I know what ‘Cybernetic Rage’ is.

A mental illness that can turn even a good person into a crazed murderer in an instant.

While that fact might not completely absolve all responsibility, I didn’t want to label him as evil for something beyond his control.

That’s why I had intended to talk to him for a bit, but when he regained consciousness, he was in a far more extreme state than I had anticipated.

Seeing him condemn himself to death, I could clearly feel the weight of the regret he carried.

‘….Perhaps he, too, is a victim in another sense.’

Certainly, I had no right to judge another’s sins.

But seeing him suffer so much, couldn’t I at least feel… some compassion?

Couldn’t I lend an ear to his story for a moment, and offer a small word of comfort?

Therefore, I asked him in a gentle voice.

“So, first…. would you tell me your story?”

=========

The story, long if you considered it long, short if you considered it short, came to an end.

And now, Joseph stood alone in the church’s front yard.

The weather was foul.

The sky hung low, threatening to pour rain at any moment, and in that damp, humid air, Joseph silently began to dig.

He continued without wiping his face, which was caked with sweat, tears, and dirt.

Afterwards, he carefully moved the bodies that had littered the chapel outside, one by one.

Some bodies had already begun to decompose slightly, but he didn’t frown once, meticulously cleaning all the blood and filth with a cloth soaked in a water bucket.

As if treating a living person, with the utmost respect.

The cleaned bodies were neatly wrapped in white cloths that seemed to have been prepared in advance.

Each time he finished tending to a body, he dug again.

“………”

ST and I watched him quietly from a distance.

I had merely listened silently to his rambling story.

But sometimes, just by truly listening, a person finds their own way.

Joseph, having poured out his entire story, no longer tried to harm himself, crushed by desperate guilt as before.

Instead, in a trembling voice, he said he would do what he could do first to atone.

That was the beginning of this long, arduous labor—tending to those sacrificed by his own hand.

At first, we offered to help, but he firmly shook his head.

His eyes were unwavering, showing it was a responsibility he had to bear entirely on his own.

After that, we no longer interfered with him.

We merely watched the entire process he silently carried out until the end.

Thwack-, Thwack-

Only the sound of a shovel digging into hard earth broke the silence.

Joseph dug a deep pit, carefully lowered the white-shrouded body, and covered it with earth.

He even made a small mound and placed small stones on it as a temporary marker.

All these actions, though clumsy, carried the sincere weight of atonement.

One, two, three…. Joseph moved without stopping.

It was difficult to gauge how much time had passed.

But he repeated the work of digging, cleaning bodies, and burying them as if he were a machine, without a single moment’s rest.

The number of bodies he buried was exactly 153.

People who were once someone’s family, who had gathered here clinging to even a false hope.

Now, they were corpses awaiting eternal rest in the cold earth.

Finally, when he finished patting down the earth in front of the last mound with his hands, cold raindrops finally began to fall from the heavily clouded sky.

Joseph, dirty from the marks of labor, slowly looked around at the numerous graves he had made with empty eyes.

Watching him, I quietly approached and spoke.

“What will you do now?”

Joseph didn’t answer for a long time.

The rain grew heavier, drenching his entire body.

Finally, he opened his mouth.

His voice was weary, but strangely, the despair from before was gone.

In its place was something heavy yet firm.

“I suppose I’ll have to settle all the remaining assets of this church…. and find the victims’ families to return it to them.”

He looked up at me, his face wet with rain.

“I plan to visit each and every one of them… confess what I’ve done, and beg for forgiveness.”

His gaze was unwavering.

“I don’t dare expect them to forgive me. I’ll be stoned and pointed at. Still…. that’s my responsibility.”

He looked down at his blood-stained hands.

The evidence of his unwashed sin.

He stared at those hands for a moment, then slowly knelt before me again.

Rainwater and muddy water soaked the knees of his worn-out pants, but he seemed to pay no mind.

“Thank you. I will definitely repay this kindness.”

His voice was low but clear.

He bowed deeply towards me.

Gratitude for what?

For saving his life when he was on the brink of death?

Or for showing him a path to face and atone for his guilt, a burden he couldn’t bear alone?

I didn’t bother to ask.

Whatever the meaning, it was now a weight he had to carry forward on his own.

=================

In the end, I couldn’t bring up the original purpose of the ‘bodyguard contract.’

That was the atmosphere.

He was someone who had faced the horrors he himself had committed and had even attempted suicide, crushed by guilt.

What kind of job could I entrust to someone who needed to sort out his own mind before he could protect others?

‘Even if I propose it again later, it’s probably impossible right now.’

Still, he himself had said he would definitely repay me.

This wouldn’t be the only chance.

Thinking so, I glanced back at ST, who was following beside me.

“……”

She was clearly the one who had first suggested hiring Joseph as a bodyguard.

But could she really not have anticipated this outcome at all?

Really?

Such a thought suddenly occurred to me.

Was ST’s suggestion perhaps not really for the purpose of hiring a bodyguard, but rather a natural way to guide me to take an interest in Joseph and help him?

So I asked, testing the waters.

“You knew it would turn out like this, didn’t you? Was this story for his sake from the beginning?”

ST did not deny it.

“I apologize for the trouble.”

“Not at all. This much is nothing.”

Even though I had acted according to her intentions, I didn’t feel particularly bad.

Considering all the things she usually did for me, I could gladly grant this request that wasn’t quite a request.

A pure curiosity arose.

“This is unusual. It’s the first time I’ve seen you show interest in someone else, ST.”

A somewhat sentimental answer, uncharacteristic of her, returned.

“….It reminded me of my past self.”

An unreadable emotion scattered beyond her golden eyes, which gazed into the distance.

“I wanted to give him a chance. The same kind I received.”

Short words, yet they implied a great deal.

A faint clue that offered a glimpse into her past.

She had certainly said she had lost many memories.

But some parts, it seemed, could not be forgotten even if one wished to.

‘What on earth had she been through…..’

Did ST recall her own past from seeing Joseph’s desperate cries amidst that horrific scene?

Perhaps she too had committed sins against her will.

Refuse and be eliminated.

Carry it out and be stained with innocent blood.

She might have experienced such things countless times.

If so, whose sin was it?

The superior who gave the cruel orders?

Her, for not courageously refusing what she knew to be unjust?

‘Then what about Joseph’s sin?’

Cybernetic Rage is a side effect of excessive cybernetic modification.

Then does the responsibility lie with the Leader who deceived Joseph and turned his body into something close to a machine?

But why is Joseph tormented by guilt?

Is it because Joseph, who willingly accepted the modifications to save his sister, also bears some fault?

If, indeed, he is a sinner…. am I, who allowed his life to continue, also a sinner?

Can all this be considered actio libera in causa, an act free from its cause?

A world where the boundaries between guilt and innocence, perpetrator and victim, are blurred.

Everything felt ambiguous.

Pondering it brought no answers, only a bitter feeling.

Joseph had only done his best to protect his sister, who was his everything.

Yet the result of that best effort was a horrific massacre.

It was difficult to say whether he was responsible or not.

Perhaps this world is a place where one commits sins merely by struggling to survive.

A place where sin begins from birth, such a….

City of Sin.

“…….”

If my entry into this world was truly someone’s arrangement.

What on earth does that being intend to do through me?

For what purpose was I brought here?

Still, I knew nothing.

=============

A few days later, Joseph’s atonement began with visiting the families of those he had sacrificed.

He liquidated all the remaining assets of the ‘One Heart Association.’

It was money the Leader and executives had hoarded by exploiting believers, and so he thought it should be returned to its original owners.

He divided the money equally and, with a list of victims, set out to find the bereaved families one by one.

He had steeled his heart.

Being turned away at the door would be natural; he might be grabbed by the collar or stoned.

He even thought he might be killed on the spot by an enraged family member.

He was prepared to endure all blame and resentment.

However, the reality Joseph faced was very different from his expectations.

“….Dead, you say? Huh…. Good heavens.”

The middle-aged man who opened the door looked surprised for a moment at the news of his daughter’s death, then soon clicked his tongue and spoke nonchalantly.

Even when Joseph, in a trembling voice, confessed that he was the perpetrator of the massacre and had come to apologize, the man’s reaction was lukewarm.

“Hmm…. So what, what do you want me to do about it?”

The man’s eyes changed subtly when he saw the envelope of money Joseph offered.

He reluctantly accepted the envelope and waved his hand dismissively.

“She got sucked into that damn cult, took all the family money, and cut ties with us ages ago. Now that she’s dead, well… I’ll take this money. Go look elsewhere.”

That reaction wasn’t limited to that house.

Families who didn’t shed a single tear at the news of a death, parents who were relieved that ‘the troublemaker is gone,’ and even a sibling who counted the money Joseph offered and grumbled, ‘Is this all there is?’

Unexpectedly, there were almost no bereaved families who directed their anger or resentment towards him.

Most of the victims had naturally severed ties with those around them as they became deeply engrossed in the cult.

They would borrow money from family and friends to donate to the Leader, and their blind faith often led to them being pointed at and scorned by those around them.

In most cases, even their families had long since given up on them.

Therefore, when Joseph said he would return the donations, they seemed inwardly pleased at the prospect of unexpected money rather than saddened.

“Aigoo, that fellow caused us a lot of trouble too…. It’s better this way. Anyway, you didn’t come empty-handed, so it’s fine.”

Joseph honestly confessed all the sins he had committed to every bereaved family he met, but almost no one reproached him for his wrongdoings or held him accountable.

This might have been the typical behavior of the residents of this city.

A cold indifference to the fate of others who were not directly related to them, even blood relatives.

In truth, if one paid attention to every misfortune of others, one wouldn’t survive long in this heartless city.

Joseph swallowed his bitterness as he keenly felt the true nature of this city.

But regardless of what others were like, he still had to atone.

The consequences of the wrongs committed by his own hands had not disappeared.

After visiting the bereaved families, Joseph went to several small businesses operated by the ‘One Heart Association.’

Most were front companies that served as the cult’s source of funds, but there were also people who worked there to make a living, people who were merely employed and had no connection to the doctrine.

Now that the Leader and executives were gone, their immediate livelihood was uncertain.

They were people in need of protection.

Joseph couldn’t turn his back on them.

He declared that he would protect this area.

It was similar to when he fought gangs under the cult’s orders in the past, but it was different now.

It wasn’t about defying the dead Leader or the hollow pretext of protecting ‘brothers and sisters of faith.’

It was simply a minimal sense of responsibility for what he had destroyed, and a way of atonement.

In one such business place he came to manage, an old manager, who seemed to have been there for a long time, cautiously asked Joseph.

“Um…. Now that the Leader is gone…. who should we believe in now?”

Faith.

Something Joseph himself had once craved for so desperately.

He paused in thought for a moment.

Images of the blood-soaked chapel and the moment of despair when he tried to take his own life flashed through Joseph’s mind.

And the miraculous experience he had faced at the edge of that cliff also came back vividly.

The woman who, even thinking back now, seemed more like an angel than a person.

The inexplicably warm and dazzling light she had shown him.

The sensation of that moment when she had pulled him back from the brink of death and opened a path for him to live even amidst his guilt.

It was like….

“….Radiance.”

Joseph uttered the word unknowingly.

The manager asked back with a bewildered expression.

“Radiance…. you say?”