Reporting Heresy is Rewarded

"Hmm, yesterday was Sunday, so that means there are... two days left until Wednesday?"

The calendar system of this world is identical to the one before Ivan crossed over; it is quite interesting and very likely a parallel timeline to Blue Star.

He did not pay attention to the specific process of Little George handing out flyers. With so many textile mills in the East District, he had no idea how long Little George would have to run back and forth.

Fortunately, Little George is a Beyonder now, so his stamina can keep up, and he won't be bullied even while running around the East District.

Ivan thought of his own current abilities again.

"Sigh, to have an Order Aspect within my body yet be unable to gain any Beyonder powers, it's just like..."

He shook his head. Now, he can only hope that more people will join the Holy Spirit Society this week so that his faith energy will grow faster.

While wandering around, Ivan noticed that the crowd on the side of a street was particularly dense, seemingly gathered around something and discussing something.

"...My god, these damned cults have been getting more and more rampant lately, growing like mushrooms after the rain."

"...You can say that again! A while ago, I heard that dozens of poor fellows had their internal organs hollowed out for no reason, then were tossed into the sewers like gutted fish."

"...Shh! Keep your voice down, don't spread rumors! Someone was blathering about this before, and they ended up being invited for a 'chat' by the Night Watchmen of the Church. When they came back, they were completely dull-witted, as if their souls had been sucked out."

"...It wasn't just a simple trip to the Public Security Bureau station; I heard that place is even more eerie and terrifying than Old Black's wine cellar. I swear on my grandmother's socks!"

Ivan frowned and drifted above the crowd, seeing a notice board enclosed in glass surrounded by the people.

Sunlight shone through the glass onto the stark white paper, where a bolded title stood out prominently.

<Notice Regarding the City Hall Encouraging Citizens to Report Heretics>

"Due to the increasingly frequent activities of cults in Trino City, the safety of residents' lives has been severely compromised."

"Hereby, the City Hall, in conjunction with the Church of Divine Grace, issues this notice: all faith organizations other than the Church of Divine Grace are considered cults."

"If you discover anyone spreading heretical beliefs to you, please report it immediately to the City Hall's Public Security Bureau or the Night Watchmen at St. Peter's Cathedral. Once the lead is verified, the informant will be rewarded with up to 1 pound."

"Signed and Approved by Trino City Hall"

"Issued by the Church of Divine Grace at St. Peter's Cathedral"

"Autumn, New Era 904"

Ivan finished reading the notice, feeling a bit uneasy.

"The City Hall is cooperating with the Church to crack down on cults, and there's even a bounty for reporting them?"

"I wonder if I can report myself to claim the reward..."

Strangely, the focus of the crowded people around him was not on how to report cults for a bounty.

Instead, they were whispering about legends of cults in Trino City, acting as if they were avoiding a plague, wishing they would never have the chance to come into contact with information about cults in their entire lives.

"Did I just hear someone say that many people had their internal organs hollowed out for no reason?"

Ivan imagined the scene and instinctively felt nauseated.

"It sounds like they were performing some evil sacrificial ritual. So, the Night Watchmen patrol for illegal gatherings every night because of the large number of horrific cases that occurred previously?"

"I must remind Little George and Gais to keep a low profile and not let our Holy Spirit Society be reported as a cult."

"If the City Hall can't catch the real cultists, it wouldn't be impossible for them to drag us out to the public as scapegoats."

Ivan hurriedly cast his vision into the perspectives of his two believers to see their current situation.

"Not bad, Gais is quite cunning; he distributes the letters in the shadows of corners, slipping away before anyone can even get a clear look at him."

"As for Little George... huh? Why is Little George being dragged away?!"

On Little George's side, he had just finished handing out a portion of the flyers at the entrance of a textile factory. Just as he was about to head to the next factory, he was flanked from front and back by two men wearing the uniforms of the City Public Security Bureau.

"Someone reported that you were acting suspiciously at the factory gate, appearing to be spreading evil beliefs."

"Be a good lad and come with us to the church. As long as you prove your innocence before the Lord, we will naturally let you return."

"You'd best cooperate, otherwise, hmph." The man flicked a revolver, a warning to Little George.

However, these two officers didn't take Little George to heart; it was just a routine matter. They didn't believe anyone would be brazen enough to spread cult propaganda at a factory gate in broad daylight.

Little George did not panic; he did not want to use his Shaman abilities to resist in the middle of a crowd.

"How could I have been reported? I have truly failed the Lord's trust..."

He felt a bit dejected and prayed to Ivan in his heart.

"Great Lord of All Spirits, how can I make up for my mistake..."

Ivan sometimes really felt that Little George was missing a screw; after all, he was just a child and had no concept of certain things.

"You kid, handing out flyers in broad daylight right at someone's front door—it would be a miracle if you weren't reported."

"Sigh, I wanted to keep a low profile, and now this. Another one dragged into the Church. Fortunately, I have my spirituality mark on him, so his memories shouldn't be tampered with.

Perhaps I can take this opportunity to observe the Church's so-called Bishop and see what his Beyonder abilities and Aspect actually are."

"With my protection, they won't find anything amiss. Just go with them."

Little George received Ivan's instruction, set his mind at ease, and followed the two officers away with a calm demeanor.

On the way to the church, the two constables began to chat idly.

The man with the gun tucked his revolver back into his holster and tugged at his collar, his face etched with impatience and exhaustion.

"Sigh, I don't even know what the point is of us catching these people every day. The higher-ups won't even let us conduct the interrogations ourselves, saying that whoever we catch must be sent to the church for disposal..."

The other man kicked a pebble at his feet, his tone filled with indignation as his voice rose involuntarily:

"Those bastards, they'd better not be looking down on us."

No sooner had he finished speaking than he seemed to remember something; he clamped a hand over his mouth, leaned in close to his companion, and whispered:

"I've heard that the cult business involves some... supernatural powers.

Haven't you noticed? We only have to handle reports during the day; all the cases at night belong to the Night Watchman.

So, it's best not to worry about it too much and just leave it to the church. I, for one, don't want to get mixed up with any messy, unexplainable things."

The man with the gun nodded, seemingly having heard similar rumors, and fell silent.

The stained-glass windows gradually came into view, the rose-patterned panes filtering the morning light into colorful fragments that fell upon the wrists of Little George, which were bound behind his back.

The deacon at the church entrance had already come forward to greet them, the hem of his black robe sweeping over the stone steps, his gaze filled with concern:

"You two constables have worked hard. The freshly brewed mint tea is still hot; would you like to rest for a moment inside the church?"

"No need." The constable on the left waved a hand, passing the rope tethering Little George into the deacon's grasp, his tone tinged with relief. "Give our regards to the Bishop. This person is now in your hands."

"Of course. May the Eyes of the Lord guide your path forward."

Only after the footsteps of the two constables had faded into the distance did he turn around to untie the restraints on Little George's wrists.

"Sir, please rest assured; the Lord never wrongly accuses the innocent.

If you have nothing to do with heretical beliefs, not only will you be able to leave safely today, but you will also be able to experience the grace of the Lord firsthand—a blessing many would beg for but never receive."

With that, he led Little George into the side hall of the church.

The heavy oak doors completely shut out the sunlight, and the light dimmed abruptly; only a few copper wall lamps flickered with weak flames, casting a cold sheen on the doors of the confessionals nearby.

"Bishop, the constables have sent over another gentleman suspected of being bewitched by a cult."

The deacon's voice was very low in the empty side hall, yet it carried a clear sense of reverence.

From the shadows deep within the side hall, a gentle voice slowly drifted out:

"You have worked hard. You may return now; I will lead him away from his lost path and back under the guidance of the Lord."

The deacon bowed and retreated, the door closing softly behind him. Little George looked up to see a man in silver-white bishop's robes emerging from the shadows, a gem-encrusted cross hanging at his chest, a faint smile perpetually fixed on his face.

"Child, look into my eyes and tell me: what is your faith?"

Little George stared into the Bishop's eyes, feeling his entire body tremble. His throat tightened as if he were suffocating, gripped by an indescribable terror.