Ch.185Chapter 20. Patriot (37)

Nonsense refers to “words that anyone can see are illogical.” That’s why it usually doesn’t spread far and fades away, as both the speaker and listener judge it as “No way, that doesn’t make sense.”

However, when that same nonsense is draped in “secrecy” with phrases like “This is a secret, but…” “Have you heard that story?” or “I heard at the distribution center, my goodness,” it transforms into an instantly captivating tale.

When this captivating story is passed from person to person, creating a situation where those who don’t know it feel left out, a strange momentum begins to build.

“You know, I went to deliver supplies to the outskirts yesterday, and even the old lady there was talking about it! Everyone knows about it.”

“What is it? What story are you all talking about among yourselves? Let me know too!”

Seeing the eager, sparkling eyes of the anxious person, people shrug their shoulders, clear their throats with a touch of pride, and then whisper the story as if bestowing charity.

“Come on, I thought it was something serious… What is this? Are you all crazy? You actually believe that story?”

Of course, fancy packaging doesn’t change the essential nature of “nonsense.” But the storytellers surrounding the listener just laugh louder. After all, they reacted the same way when they first heard it.

So they say things like:

“I heard Supervisor Catherine testified at the religious tribunal. Even with her head completely shaved.”

“About Elian’s scout team. They say it completely dissolved after their Central District reconnaissance mission. The members scattered and joined other scout teams. But no matter what mission they go on, anyone who was part of Elian’s team always returns alive. Without even a scratch.”

“Really? You mean zombies just ignore them?”

It was too dreamlike to simply dismiss as “Well, that’s interesting.” Yet it wasn’t a story that could be entirely ignored either.

The more proactive ones tried desperately to meet people from the scout team. Those who found even that difficult tried to meet the new teammates who had gone on missions with former members of that scout team. This wasn’t particularly challenging for any decent church member who had already established such personal networks.

“Is it true?”

“It was true.”

At that moment, nonsense spreads under the name of “why this is real.” It’s the moment when the old adage returns: “Plausible stories are actually made up, but utterly implausible ones are actually true.”

It was an awkward moment for the church leaders.

The compilation of “rumors” went like this:

He is a young man. Anyone who sees him, whether man or woman, falls in love. This is because he is a noble person.

He can walk among zombies without harm, and his movements are so swift that he knows how to appear and disappear like the wind.

He is an excellent warrior and brave, but unconditionally kind to people. He didn’t even show hostility toward men who tried to harm him.

He only called out to love, just to love.

* * * * *

The same thing happened at the religious tribunal that was supposed to be private but was made public “in consideration of social impact.” Catherine, with her head completely shaved, was given only a grain sack and bare feet instead of proper clothes.

‘Stupid fools. They’re trying hard to make Catherine a martyr.’

Elian, who was also detained but at least had decent clothes and her hair intact, cursed the tribunal judges in her mind.

The judges had the “normal” Elian and the “persecuted” Catherine greet each other. The two women hadn’t seen each other properly, let alone met, since that day. They had only been subjected to clumsy interrogations like “Catherine said this?” or “Elian didn’t say that.”

A scheme to drive the two women apart. It was the kind of scheme they would fall for despite knowing better, but there was something even the judges didn’t know.

When their eyes met, both women mouthed the same thing.

‘John.’

The true name of the man who had identified himself as Hoot. But it was the noble name that could only be heard by those who were present.

‘I know John’s name. I wasn’t wrong.’

Catherine steeled her resolve once more.

The trial began. The questioning continued much as before. Catherine told what she had seen and heard. To Elian, it seemed a bit more dramatic and embellished than last time, but since she wasn’t making up stories out of thin air, Elian said nothing.

“What crime has he committed?”

Supervisor Catherine had testified boldly.

“He saved our lives. He disappeared leading countless zombies. I even got the impression that the zombies were surrounding and protecting him!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Was the zombie virus outbreak something that made sense?!”

“You’re committing the fallacy of false equivalence, Supervisor Catherine!”

“You won’t even believe the testimony of twenty-one people who swore in the Goddess’s name!”

The inquisitors were exhausted. All of this was irritating. Catherine’s testimony was overturning the church’s beliefs from their very foundation.

“Catherine. You are promoting an idol. You’ve been blinded by delusion. If you continue like this, we’ll have no choice but to demand verification!”

“Go ahead.”

Catherine was confident. She had faith.

And so “that event” really happened.

Over a hundred church members gathered at the collapsed wall between the Central and Southern Districts.

The church, preparing for any situation, sent notes to the gangs in the West and North saying, “We’re going to do this, and we hope you won’t interfere this time,” along with two boxes of canned peaches.

The gangs elegantly replied, “We won’t bring guns, but we’d like to watch,” sending back three soldiers. They were deserters from the 284 National Military Police Headquarters, but not church members. They had also been on missions with Catherine before.

“Supervisor Catherine. For a supervisor who should lead other believers, the sin of speaking heresy is extremely grave. But since you refuse to listen to words or logic, show us directly this ‘grace’ you claim to have received!”

In front of all those people, Catherine removed her clothes. All she was allowed to wear was a pair of sneakers.

But the heresy trial didn’t end there.

Three executioners with deep hoods approached her, holding pistols in their left hands and daggers in their right. The spectators screamed and shouted, but the judges paid no attention.

“It’s not too late, Catherine. Repent.”

Yvonne, the leader of the three executioners, raised her dagger.

“Do what you must, Yvonne.”

Catherine extended her left arm. Executioner Yvonne cut Catherine’s arm with the dagger. It was a considerate cut that would draw blood but not damage muscles or blood vessels.

“She’ll be eaten by zombies like that!”

But Catherine walked. Clear day, cool breeze, slightly hot temperature. Carefully crossing over the collapsed wall.

And the zombies swarmed.

The zombies approached, drooling, toward the prey who wore nothing but shoes, had her head shaved, and was bleeding from her left arm.

“Just.”

Catherine paused briefly and called out to the more than hundred spectators.

“Just, love!”

Catherine walked again. The zombies approached her. Chaos erupted among the spectators. Some covered their faces unable to watch, some wailed loudly, others raised their voices saying heretics must die.

Three zombies grabbed Catherine’s body. She stopped walking. She tried to remain calm, but her body trembled violently. Finally, one zombie put its mouth on Catherine’s wounded arm.

“It’s over.”

The judges turned toward the spectators.

“The spectacle is over. Everyone go home.”

But the spectators didn’t move. Even the deserters from the gangs stood staring. The confused judges realized a bit late that they weren’t looking at them.

Catherine was still standing.

With all limbs intact. Trembling, crying, having wet herself, yet she steadfastly refused to collapse.

The zombies with blood on their mouths moved away from her. Growling and snarling, they simply passed by Catherine.

The zombies’ new targets were the spectators.

“Catherine! Catherine!”

Members of Elian’s scout team ran to her with blankets and first aid supplies. The zombies bared their teeth but didn’t attack those passing by them.

“…It was true.”

The spectators shouted.

“The rumors were true! Miracles exist! The savior lives!”

Elian had been sitting on the ground silently until then. But the next moment, she rose like a wolf.

“In the name of John!”

Handcuffed Elian glared at the judges with hatred-filled eyes.

“In the name of John, the true leader of the Goddess and the baptizer, let us offer those false ones as sacrifices!”

“Elian!”

The judges shouted. But the gathered spectators were no longer on their side. By the time Executioner Yvonne personally disinfected Catherine’s arm, stitched her wound, wrapped her in a blanket and brought her back, everyone was trying to touch Catherine, prostrating themselves, and calling her name.

“A miracle! A miracle! Catherine! Oh Catherine!”

“No!”

Catherine cried out in a choked voice.

“All of this is solely by John’s grace! We must dedicate everything to him. He is so humble he even tried to hide his name! He must be exalted, and I must be humbled! Oh, John! Come!”

But the spread of the “John Faith” along with the legends of “Saint Catherine who wet herself” and “The Unyielding Accuser Elian” came a week after the judges, the high priest, and the deputy high priest were thrown to the zombies as food.