Ch.208Report on the Collapse of Patience (1)

“…For they have learned to distinguish between good and evil, and thus can no longer remain in paradise.”

The more I read it, the stranger this passage becomes.

Paradise is neither good nor evil. Paradise is simply paradise. It’s an ideal space where everything is abundant, everything is fulfilled, with no lack and nothing to go wrong.

But from the moment one can distinguish between good and evil, paradise becomes a place where one can no longer stay.

Why? For what reason?

Some think paradise must have had good and evil mixed within it. When one couldn’t tell the difference, everything seemed fine. But after learning the truth, one would have harbored many doubts.

‘If this is truly paradise, why does evil dwell here? Does paradise require evil to maintain itself? If evil were driven out, would it cease to be paradise?’

Questions become skepticism, and skepticism leads to distance. Once you realize evil exists in paradise, it no longer appears as paradise.

Others say that only God could define good and evil.

God is commonly portrayed as a perfect being, while humans are depicted as imperfect beings modeled after God. But if an imperfect being becomes able to distinguish between good and evil, can such judgment be trusted?

If your child, niece, nephew, or the five-year-old next door chatters at dinner about knowing what’s good and evil, you might listen but won’t deeply accept it. You know a child’s judgment can change at any time.

Everyone dreams of paradise. We just call it by different names: dreamland, heaven, nirvana, utopia, ideal world…

But the reason we cannot enter paradise is simple.

It’s not because we’ve sinned, nor because we’re imperfect beings, nor because this world is broken. It’s simply because we know distinction. We know what is good and what is evil. We try to follow good and reject evil.

So what shall we call good and what shall we call evil? We all know that God created everything in the world. We, as God’s creations, merely judge some things as good and others as evil.

Only God knows their true essence. Only God knows their true identity. This raises another question.

If only God can know and humans cannot, and if something appears good in God’s eyes but evil in human eyes—if God’s will differs from human will—what happens then?

I don’t know the answer. Neither do you. But history knows. God waits forever, but humans do not wait.

Because evil is simply evil, and because we believe that driving out all evil will bring goodness, we have taken up swords and spears, created law books, and purified the world with holy fire.

Human history is a long struggle to drive out evil and bring in good. Yet evil never disappears. Rather, always, good is small and evil is vast.

We all want to be good people, and no one wants to appear evil, yet the world overflows with evil.

From this, we can draw two hypotheses.

One is the “Hero Hypothesis.” Generally, we call someone who lives detached from society a loner or a madman.

But if they claim “the world is wrong and only I know justice,” at that moment they are given the name of hero.

We all want to be good people, but cannot due to practical constraints. And I guarantee, we all feel the humiliations and unfairness we’ve suffered more strongly than the benefits we’ve enjoyed.

So we pay attention to the narrative of a “hero” who drives away these negative things and helps us “take back” what was unfairly taken.

The other is the “Box Hypothesis.”

If everyone tries to be good yet evil results occur, this theory suggests there’s a serious problem with how we act. Like how an apple, though fresh, will rot if placed in a rotten box.

This isn’t a surprising hypothesis. It’s what emerging powers always say when challenging established powers.

“This world is rotten, and the fundamental responsibility lies with those in power who brought the country to this state, so the solution is to eliminate them and establish a new order.” The argument goes. It could also be likened to saying the box is broken, so let’s make a new one.

Both hypotheses will be familiar to you. They’re thoughts you’ve likely had, and you’ve surely heard someone somewhere express them.

But until now, I have never seen anyone say, “This world is imperfect yet perfect, so let’s just accept it as it is. Let good and evil exist, and allow them to mix.” In fact, that attitude is closer to the image of paradise. I confess, even I cannot speak that way.

I know my own good and evil sides. And I cannot tolerate my own evil. If this is how I feel about myself, what about the world and paradise?

So I can only pray. So I can only look back and reflect.

God made us imperfect. He allowed us to discern good and evil through our distorted vision.

But God also gave mercy to humans. Mercy doesn’t mean blindly forgiving and tolerating. It means accepting despite the pain, suffering, and difficulty.

So, everyone, show mercy to yourselves. That comes first. Just don’t confuse self-mercy with self-justification. Justification distorts truth, but mercy acknowledges facts and accepts them “nevertheless.”

Strictly acknowledge your reality but show mercy. Be strict with your world but show mercy. Be strict with your adversaries but show mercy. Not only you but everything you see is God’s creation. Above all, isn’t God being patient with us?

You know better than I how merciless humans can be to one another. If God had as little patience as humans, what would become of us?

– From a lecture on the mercy of the knighthood, by Grand Marshal Allegieri of the Mercy Knights

* * * * *

Before Kain arrived at Valhalla, a safe house in the Imperial capital.

Outwardly, it’s an ordinary two-story building with a basement. It also has a small but decent garden, which serves as a pastime for a friendly elderly couple.

For a Security Bureau “safe house,” it seems rather ordinary and even somewhat flimsy.

In fact, the level of the house and the nature of the hospitality vary depending on who is being “protected.” In the case of a foreign agent from an enemy state, iron bars and red-hot iron rods would be waiting.

For someone who fled to the Emperor’s side with leverage against an Elector, there would be quite decent treatment and strict interrogators coming and going to determine the truth.

‘But if it’s someone who has become completely incapacitated, who should go?’

The answer is the very person asking that question.

“Damn it.”

The carriage had already arrived, but Director Verneith remained inside, grumbling.

His face was red, but not just from alcohol. He was furious, but not just because of his wife who had rolled up her sleeves saying, “Why don’t you just divorce me and marry alcohol instead?”

Venelucia?

Yes. They’re the problem. He never imagined that the Venelucian spies, whom he had underestimated as five levels below, would play such tricks in the Imperial capital.

Even the men he had sent to Venelucia had submitted reports full of nonsense, as if they’d been drugged. It was miraculous that the Imperial family hadn’t said anything about this situation yet. Or perhaps they were sharpening their knives. Either way, it was reason enough to keep Verneith sleepless and drinking heavily.

But if that were all, he wouldn’t be this angry. ‘Yes, we could be fooled once. We all let our guard down.’

The real problem was that the overall quality of the Security Bureau had become ridiculously low, and he was the head of that very bureau.

“Damn it!”

Finally, the director took another sip of wine inside the carriage.

A few days ago, the Privy Council Chairman suddenly visited the Security Bureau. Verneith bowed his head as if truly apologetic.

“I hope you’re not too upset. Even the Royal Guard Bureau failed to interrogate that priest supposedly ‘sent’ by the Eastern Venelucian spies.”

Of course, both the Security Bureau and the Royal Guard Bureau would have to bear the Emperor’s fury together, but that was better than the Security Bureau being engulfed in flames while the Royal Guard Bureau remained unscathed.

But Verneith didn’t want to be in that position. He knew better than anyone what happens to an intelligence chief who incurs the Emperor’s displeasure.

“I’ll solve this problem somehow. I’ll find more suitable personnel. If he won’t open his mouth, by any means necessary…”

“Director. Just a moment. Do you have suitable personnel? Let’s be honest between ourselves.”

“Honestly, I don’t know who to send. My subordinates are utterly stupid, which is why I handed him over to the Royal Guard Bureau, but if even they can’t handle it…”

Then the Privy Council Chairman gave him a truly meaningful look. Verneith understood the meaning of that gaze in less than three seconds. If he lacked that much perception, he should have stepped down from his position.

“Those idiots, they can’t even make one priest talk, so they have to call me in!”

He couldn’t even remember when he last conducted an interrogation himself. In fact, the Security Bureau Director had never personally conducted an interrogation before. Not only during the short history of the Security Bureau but throughout the entire history of the Royal Guard Bureau, which had existed since the early days of the Empire.

‘We must match his rank, mustn’t we?’

If the Privy Council Chairman hadn’t soothed him with those words, the director would have taken sick leave. ‘Rank? Rank?’ That was also why Verneith barely managed to hold onto his sanity when the world seemed to be spinning.

“Yes, we must match the ‘rank’ of that priest. Or ‘status,’ if you prefer.”

Inside the carriage, Verneith sneered. He didn’t want to think about his subordinates’ incompetence anymore. He wanted to think even less about the lax discipline of the Royal Guard Bureau.

“Director…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Verneith finally got out of the carriage, holding a rolled-up paper.

Father Prollo. Affiliated with the Papal Office and an administrator of the Venelucian branch, but his real affiliation was as a high-ranking official of the Papal information agency “Sicarius.” This meant he was a high-value asset, estimated to be around rank 4 in the hierarchy.

But “matching his rank” meant something different from pairing a novice with a high-ranking intelligence officer to insult and agitate him. It meant that someone equal in experience, skill, and years of service needed to step up.

The priest was in a room on the second floor, with the same blank and hollow face as always. He appeared disinterested in everything in the world. Like a turtle tucking its head and legs into its shell, he was escaping from reality in a similar way.

Fortunately, they had a fair amount of intelligence on him. Thanks to the “Eastern friends” who had thoroughly searched his office at the Papal Office, his parish, and even the mail and documents at his home, sending important items separately.

His main role was to connect Leonardo of Charity with the Papal Office. If Leonardo staged a rebellion and became the head of Venelucia, the connection between the Eastern Alliance and the Pope would grow stronger. There were even hints that the Pope would approve and bless Leonardo’s rebellion.

The Pope’s arrangements didn’t end there. The Papal Office knew that Leonardo was smuggling, processing, and distributing Asas weed with Roberta of Kindness and Hans of Diligence. They not only failed to stop it but even helped.

But piecing together the fragments led to a bizarre conclusion.

‘The Pope colluded with some of the heroes who defeated the Demon King to nurture heretical forces and spread harmful Asas products throughout the world.’

The person who could explain why was keeping his mouth tightly shut like a dead clam. This was the point where countless others had asked and given up.

And now Verneith held the knife handle.