Ch.133133. ‘That Thing’ (1)

Not long ago, I dispatched Bjorn to the northern part of the empire to scout a personal dragon for him to ride.

Unexpectedly, this personal dragon turned out to be the type that specializes in using its brain, so I decided to try putting it to work in administrative duties.

And as a result.

The administrative department of my underground city gained a forced-to-be-chancellor administrative throne… no, a very capable and wise bureaucrat.

It possessed intellectual abilities that were practically unparalleled among mortal beings, and it also knew how to utilize this towering intelligence well.

Thanks to this, I now have a very high-class administrative slave.

‘Ah, now I can finally breathe.’

Just with this simple distribution of work, I’ve gained considerable capacity.

Since I can now delegate the administrative tasks that I had to handle personally one by one to this fellow who has become an excellent administrative throne.

While I’m delightfully jumping for joy at the significant amount of remaining capacity—information processing ability.

Finally, finally, I’ve escaped from the past where I had to handle administrative work on top of… lacking the capacity to manage each believer individually.

I can now extend my hand to various plans that I couldn’t implement due to being busy, and finally address these issues.

First, there’s the bio-computer plan to solve the most basic problem.

According to my active assertion and will, the underground city has various administrative systems quite similar to my hometown, such as registering all residents by numbers to solve the spy problem…

But trying to perform this work with just ancient technology has reached its limits, and I’ve been personally patching things up until now.

However, as my power is gradually shifting from being a parasite to becoming an independent force, I can’t keep solving things in such a makeshift manner forever.

So, while having an administrative slave sit and buy time, I decided to introduce a biological tissue-based computer—an automatic calculator—by sacrificing Lunifer.

The principle is extremely simple.

Using homunculus cultivation technology to create a brain that can only calculate, and connecting it to a keyboard-like device that stimulates this brain through electrodes and wires.

Then attach various machines that supply nutrients to the brain in the culture medium, and install a mechanical typewriter that I recently created as a kind of output device.

And voilà!

Although it may look quite grotesque, a perfectly functional biological calculator-computer pops into existence.

I wonder why I didn’t implement this simple solution earlier, but in truth, I didn’t even have the time to do so because of the overwhelming administrative work…

…Let’s just move on for now.

Meanwhile, as the implementation of the bio-computer was nearing completion, I began another “operation.”

In preparation for the upcoming all-out war with the Roman Empire, I started the work of preemptively recruiting those who could be recruited.

The number of people willing to betray the pantheon—which has been believed in for generations and is the center of the social system—was far greater than I had thought.

This isn’t retribution for the various atrocities they’ve committed until now…

“O, God! I offer this blood to you! I dedicate this sacred flowing blood!”

Most of my “recruitment” targets are simply followers who became distracted by the blessings I bestow, gradually becoming addicted to me in both mind and soul.

To gain stronger power, to achieve merits that would elevate them to higher positions.

Usually, when these people who have heard rumors about me ask for my blessing for such reasons, I gladly grant their wishes and bestow various blessings upon these apostates.

Of course, many of these power-hungry groups don’t care about means or methods, and most are simply full of ambition to use me, but…

From my perspective, they were just shortsighted fools.

From the moment they uttered the oath to abandon their existing faith and serve me, the souls of these apostates left their original masters and became subordinate to me.

Therefore, even if they want to return to their original faith, they cannot, and once someone has apostatized, they likely wouldn’t be accepted back due to the possibility of apostasy again.

Moreover, even if they somehow manage to switch faiths successfully, the blessings already bestowed continue to bind their souls.

The god who bestowed the blessing can interfere with the blessed person as much as they want by using the power connected to the blessing.

Destroying the soul, converting the soul into a spiritual bomb is basic, and one could even infiltrate as a spy by leaving only the shell and completely remodeling it.

That’s why I’ve been so generous with bestowing blessings on those fearless idiots, compared to what I receive from them.

After connecting the divine energy—power and mind—that constitutes the blessing, I can use this blessing in emergencies for tricks like soul swapping.

※ ※ ※

Gracchus, the Great Guide of Vengeance, the Crimson Leader. The Avenging Tribune.

Gracchus, known by these epithets, is officially a priest in charge of the central temple of the Vengeance Order with the rank of a saint, but in reality, he is the religious leader of the Vengeance Order and the highest authority in the underground city.

However, Gracchus doesn’t indulge in luxury or power like other priests of the pantheon.

Rather, he not only generously uses his personal wealth for the Vengeance Order but also leads an exemplary and frugal clerical life, and is a born leader with exceptional leadership abilities.

Is that all?

Not only within the order but also externally, Gracchus’s reputation is quite good.

He once served as a tribune, which is nominally the highest position in the holy city, and despite being only a first-generation nouveau riche, he is a member of the Senate.

Above all, he is known for his generosity despite his wealth.

Even in the holy city, known for its harsh customs and disregard for hospitality traditions, various charitable activities are at least not objects of criticism.

Although some may mock it as throwing money away on beggars, at least this action is accepted as a good deed.

Additionally, Gracchus is a job-creation monster who produces jobs as if stamping them out, and he doesn’t evade taxes but pays them faithfully.

During his time as tribune, the only criticism was for advocating welfare policies ahead of his time, and even this was convincingly accepted as being “too kind.”

Anyway, while Gracchus has a perfect reputation both externally and within the organization, he had one quite painful… rotting finger.

“Aha! Hahaha! Pour! Drink!”

‘It’ was none other than his own child and only son.

A drunkard and alcoholic, he was a madman who had formed a brotherhood with the leader of a gang affiliated with the Phobos Order, despite being over 25 years old and still immature.

Moreover, he was an academy dropout with absolutely no physical skills. In other words, he was a complete good-for-nothing among troublemakers.

Despite being like this, he swaggered around selling his father’s reputation, making him a perfect example of a disgraceful son.

Of course, Gracchus had attempted correction and education numerous times… but considering he had been like this since he was 12, he was probably fundamentally flawed.

Therefore, Gracchus was filled with the urge to sever family ties immediately, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

It wasn’t because of blood ties… any affection had long since disappeared. If anything, it was because of his wife.

He loved her so much that he hadn’t remarried since her death, so he was somewhat taking care of his son… the only fruit of their love.

And today, the same thing as before was about to happen again.

BANG!!

“Hey, old man!!”

Kicking the door of his office (worth 1 talent gold coin) as if to break it, a swaggering thug entered Gracchus’s office with a snicker.

“…What is it this time? Gambling? Drugs? Alcohol? Women?”

“Hey, you know it all. It’s nothing much, just got into some gambling debt. Give me 10 talents.”

The talent gold coin, a single piece of which could rewrite a person’s life, and he declared that he had lost as many as 10 pieces to gambling debt…

Needless to say, he wasn’t even worthy of being called a troublemaker; he was just an idiot.

Anyway, this rude thug had actually intended to extort money, but seeing Gracchus’s very tall bodyguard standing beside him, he became a bit more polite.

Of course, thinking there was no way to deal with his own son and heir (not), the arrogant thug suddenly noticed the Celtic cross-like object with a filled center circle that both the bodyguard and his father were wearing around their necks, and muttered quietly.

“Old man. What’s that stupid necklace?”

In his own way, it was a kind of advice about his father wearing something strange as jewelry that might lower his dignity, but…

Who would have known?

”’…Stupid?”’

That his thoughtlessly uttered word would touch the nerves of all three present—a kind of suicidal act.