Rewards for Reporting Heretics

"Mm, yesterday was Sunday, so Wednesday is... two days away?"

The way this world kept track of the years was the same as in the world Ivan had come from. It was quite interesting, and there was a good chance this was a parallel world to Blue Star.

He hadn't paid much attention to the specifics of Little George's leaflet deliveries. With so many textile factories in the East District, who knew how long Little George would have to run around?

Fortunately, Little George was a Beyonder now, so he had the stamina to keep up. And even if he ran all over the East District, no one would bully him.

Ivan thought again about the abilities he had now.

"Alas, I've got an Order Aspect inside me, but I still can't gain any Beyonder abilities. It's like..."

He shook his head. For now, all he could do was hope more people would join the Holy Spirit Society this week, so his faith energy would grow faster.

While wandering around, Ivan noticed a particularly dense crowd beside a street. They seemed to be gathered around something, discussing it.

"...Good heavens, these damn cults have been getting more and more rampant lately. They're spreading like mushrooms after the rain."

"...You can say that again! A while ago, I heard that dozens of poor souls had their internal organs inexplicably scooped out, then were dumped in the sewers like gutted fish."

"...Shh! Keep your voice down. Don't spread rumors! Someone was talking about that before, and the Church's Night Watchmen took him in for questioning. When he came back, he was dazed, like his soul had been sucked out."

"...It's not as simple as getting thrown in the Public Security Bureau's lockup. I hear that place is spookier than Old Black's wine cellar. I swear on my grandmother's socks!"

Ivan frowned and drifted above the crowd. Surrounded by people was a notice board covered with glass.

Sunlight shone through the glass onto the pristine white paper. A bold headline stood out on the page.

<Notice on the City Government's Encouragement of Citizens to Report Heretics>

"Due to the increasingly frequent activities of cults in Trino City, the safety of residents has been seriously affected."

"The city government and the Church of Divine Grace hereby issue the following notice: all faith organizations other than the Church of Divine Grace are cults."

"If you find someone spreading heretical beliefs, please report them immediately to the Public Security Bureau or the Night Watchmen at St. Peter's Cathedral. Once the information is verified, the informant may receive a reward of up to 1 Gold Pound."

"Approved by Trino City Hall"

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

"Autumn, New Era 904"

After reading the notice, Ivan felt a little uneasy.

"The city government is working with the Church to crack down on cults, and there's a reward for reporting them?"

"Could I report myself and collect the reward...?"

Strangely, the people crowded around him weren't discussing how to report cults and claim the reward.

Instead, they were quietly trading stories about cults in Trino City, as if avoiding a plague, wishing they'd never have to learn anything about them.

"Did I just hear someone say that a lot of people had their organs inexplicably scooped out?"

Ivan pictured it and felt sick.

"Maybe they were used in some kind of evil sacrificial ritual. So the Night Watchmen patrol for illegal gatherings every night because there have been so many horrific cases?"

"I have to warn Little George and Gais to keep a low profile. We can't let our Holy Spirit Society get reported as a cult."

"If the City Hall can't catch any real cultists, they might pin the blame on us in front of the public."

Ivan hurriedly shifted his vision to the perspectives of his two followers to see how they were doing.

"Not bad. Gais is pretty sly. He's handing out letters in a shadowy corner, and he's already slipped away before anyone can get a good look at him."

"As for Little George... huh? Why has Little George been taken away?!"

Little George had just handed out some leaflets at the entrance to a textile factory. As he was about to head to the next factory, two people in Public Security Bureau uniforms cornered him from either side.

"Someone reported you for acting suspiciously at the factory entrance, apparently spreading evil beliefs."

"Come quietly with us to the church. As long as you prove your innocence before the Lord, we'll let you go."

"You'd better cooperate, or else..." One of the men waved a revolver at Little George in warning.

But the two Peace Officers didn't take Little George seriously. They were just going through the motions; they didn't believe anyone would spread a cult's teachings in broad daylight at a factory entrance.

Little George didn't panic. He didn't want to use his Shaman abilities to fight back in front of the crowd.

"How did someone report me? I've really let the Lord down..."

Feeling dejected, he prayed to Ivan in his heart.

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

Ivan sometimes felt that Little George was a few bricks short of a load. After all, he was only a child and didn't understand how these things worked.

"You little rascal. You were handing out leaflets right in front of their gates. Of course someone reported you."

"Alas, I wanted to keep a low profile, but now another one's been taken to the Church. At least my Spirituality imprint is on him, so they shouldn't be able to tamper with his memories.

"I might as well use this chance to observe the so-called bishop of the Church and find out what his Beyonder abilities and Aspect are."

"With my protection, they won't discover anything. Go with them."

After receiving Ivan's instructions, Little George relaxed and went along with the two Peace Officers without a fuss.

On the way to the church, the two Peace Officers started chatting.

The man with the gun tucked his revolver back into his waistband and tugged at his collar, looking irritated and tired.

"Alas, I don't know what good it does to arrest all these people every day. The higher-ups won't even let us interrogate them ourselves. They say that no matter who we catch, we have to send them to the Church for handling..."

The other man kicked a pebble at his feet, his voice full of resentment. He unconsciously raised his voice.

"Those bastards. I hope they don't think they're better than us."

As soon as he finished speaking, he seemed to remember something. He covered his mouth, leaned toward his companion, and lowered his voice.

"I heard the cult business involves some... supernatural forces.

"Have you noticed? We only deal with reports made during the day. The Night Watchmen handle every case that happens at night.

"So let's not stick our noses into it. Leave it to the Church. I don't want to get mixed up with all kinds of weird stuff."

The man with the gun nodded. He seemed to have heard some of the rumors himself, and said no more.

Stained-glass windows gradually came into view. The rose-shaped panes filtered the morning light into colorful fragments that fell across Little George's bound wrists.

The Deacon at the church entrance had already come out to greet them. His black robe swept across the stone steps, and his eyes showed concern.

"You two have worked hard. Some freshly brewed mint tea is still hot. Would you like to rest in the church for a while?"

"No need." The Peace Officer on the left waved his hand and passed the rope restraining Little George to the Deacon, sounding relieved. "Give our regards to the bishop. We'll leave this man in your hands."

"Of course. May the Eyes of the Lord guide you on your way."

Only after the two Peace Officers' footsteps had faded did he turn around and undo the restraints on Little George's wrists.

"Sir, please don't worry. The Lord never condemns the innocent.

"If you have nothing to do with heretical beliefs, not only will you be able to leave safely today, but you'll also get to experience the Lord's grace firsthand. It's a blessing many people would give anything for."

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

The heavy oak door shut out the sunlight completely. The light dimmed abruptly. Only a few copper wall sconces burned weakly, casting a cold sheen on the doors of the confessionals.

"Bishop, the Peace Officers have brought in another gentleman suspected of being led astray by a cult."

The Deacon's voice was low in the empty side hall, but clearly full of reverence.

A gentle voice drifted from the shadows at the far end of the hall.

"Thank you for your hard work. You may go. I'll lead him out of the wilderness and back under the Lord's guidance."

The Deacon bowed and withdrew, gently closing the door behind him. Little George looked up and saw a person in a silver-white bishop's robe emerge from the shadows. A gemstone-encrusted cross hung on his chest, and a faint smile remained on his face.

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

Little George stared into the bishop's eyes. His whole body trembled, and his throat tightened, as if he were suffocating. He felt an indescribable fear.