What, I Have to Feed Them Too?

"Oh, my little one, don't talk nonsense!"

Beside the child who had spoken, a woman spoke with mild reproach. Before she had even finished, she reached out and covered his mouth.

Then she gave Little George an apologetic look.

Ivan's movements were forcibly interrupted by those words.

He suddenly realized he had overlooked something crucial.

"Uh... do I have to feed people when building a church?"

"Won't I also have to write doctrine and compose myths..."

"Set up churches, organize services..."

"Perform baptisms, arrange Holy Communion..."

"Th-this... I only wanted a little faith energy. I don't have to do all that, do I?"

Ivan's head began to ache.

Little George was equally at a loss after hearing the question.

He touched the Gold Pound in his pocket, then looked at the nearly one hundred believers below.

A bead of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

In the Rhine Kingdom, the legal currency was the Rhine Pound.

One Rhine Pound equaled twenty Silver Shillings, and one Silver Shilling equaled twelve Copper Pennies.

Workers at the bottom of society earned roughly eight to twenty shillings a week.

Nobles and factory owners, meanwhile, had annual incomes of around one thousand pounds.

As for people as destitute as them, they could not earn even a few Rhine Pounds in a year.

"A pound of wheat bread costs at least one Copper Penny, enough for eight people."

"If we add wine, that's five Copper Pennies per pint, uh..."

Little George was clearly not very good at math and had no idea how long that money could last.

He tried hard to calculate it in his head, eventually reaching a conclusion.

"One Holy Communion would cost about four shillings and six pence."

"Th-this one pound of mine can only support five Holy Communions at most?"

Ivan was slightly surprised as he watched Little George's thoughts.

He had not expected a single Gold Pound to feed one hundred people through five Holy Communions.

"Thank goodness. I thought I couldn't even afford one meal. I didn't expect the purchasing power to be this strong."

Seeing Little George standing there with a troubled frown, Old Harvey promptly spoke up to break the awkward silence:

"Brothers and sisters of the Holy Spirit Society, the great Lord has not yet baptized us."

"According to church tradition, only after everyone has completed the Baptism Ceremony may we partake in Holy Communion together."

"As for the Baptism Ceremony, the bishop must first receive revelation from the Lord before selecting the proper time and place to officiate it for everyone. Only then can each of us become a true believer of the Lord and receive His grace!"

He seemed extremely familiar with church matters and had found Little George a reasonable explanation.

Some among the crowd below seemed to recognize Little George as well.

This little fellow who had still been begging alongside them to survive yesterday.

Today, he had suddenly transformed—not only gaining extraordinary abilities, but also becoming the bishop of the Holy Spirit Society.

Who knew what kind of absurd luck he had stumbled into.

But even so, arranging a Holy Communion for so many people.

Was far beyond what Little George could afford.

"Oh, my Lord! His Lordship the bishop has already exhausted himself saving us. How could we trouble him to prepare Holy Communion too?"

"We may be poor, but we can always beg for a few pieces of black bread on the streets, can't we?"

People below began to respond. Though there would be no Holy Communion for now, they were still willing to uphold the image of His Lordship the bishop and the Holy Spirit Society.

"Tomorrow at midnight, baptism and Holy Communion."

Hearing the Lord's latest revelation, Little George swallowed and snapped out of his complicated calculations.

He looked gratefully at Old Harvey, then slowly said:

"Brothers and sisters of the Holy Spirit Society, let us gather again tomorrow at midnight before the Poorhouse."

"The great Lord will baptize everyone. Once you have been baptized, we shall partake in Holy Communion together!"

Upon hearing this news, everyone revealed astonished expressions.

They could not believe that His Lordship the bishop would hold a baptism and Holy Communion for them as soon as tomorrow.

Yet their doubts eventually turned into a shared cry:

"Praise the great Lord!"

Ivan noticed that Little George was beginning to sound more and more like a holy fraud whenever he spoke.

Looks like he's adapting to his identity. Kids really do learn fast.

He looked again at the trembling old man beside Little George.

This Old Harvey seems to know quite a bit about church affairs.

I need to find a way to bring him into the core ranks of the Holy Spirit Society too.

Tsk. Too bad I can't split off blessings right now. Otherwise, I could just grant Old Harvey one and probably get plenty of information about this world from him.

Ugh, I said I'd baptize the believers, but I don't even know how to do that.

Ivan only wished he could immediately fill up on faith energy, then take a good, hard look into Old Harvey's thoughts.

Whatever. Leave it all to Little George. How can a future pope fail to handle something this minor?

That was what he thought.

But Ivan ultimately could not bring himself to dump everything on a teenager and let him bear it alone.

"As for Holy Communion, Little George has money now. He should be able to handle that."

"I'll have to figure out the Baptism Ceremony myself."

"Before I transmigrated, I did watch quite a few films and television shows related to churches."

"But I really never paid attention to rituals and things like that..."

Ivan waved his thick tentacles, a rough plan forming in his mind.

Why not sneak into the Church of Divine Grace tomorrow during the day and watch one of their services?

I can't copy it outright, but at least it can serve as a reference.

And I can look for my dear Missionary Gais while I'm at it.

The idea gradually took shape in his mind, and Ivan slowly drifted away from the district.

At the very center of Trino City.

St. Peter's Cathedral, laid out in the shape of a cross, stood silently beneath the night sky.

At the peak of its tallest spire, a silver-plated cross glowed with a faint pale light under the moon.

The cathedral's outer walls were made of blue-gray granite, with fresh white mortar still lingering between the seams.

The great circular window above the main entrance spread outward in a radial pattern, inlaid with beautiful stained glass like a blooming rose.

Though it was already late at night, the moonlight still faintly revealed the patterns of swords and shields etched into the glass.

The only structure still glowing dimly was a Clock Tower beside the cathedral.

"You're impressive. You managed to lie within my Arbitration Domain."

Abel flicked the cigarette in his hand, his deep gaze fixed on Gais, who sat in the interrogation chair.

He sat in a carved oak chair upholstered with worn dark-brown leather. Behind him stood a row of cabinets, while a yellowed notebook lay open on the table before him, a fountain pen slanting out of an ink bottle.

The cathedral's Clock Tower had no gas supply, and the interrogation room had no windows.

A brass kerosene lamp hung from the wooden wainscoting on the wall beside them, just enough to illuminate the sides of their faces.

Gais wore a helpless expression. He had already explained himself to the officer before him countless times.

He had heard the term Beyonder before, but only through rumors in the streets.

As for the glowing Jellyfish.

Heh, it was merely something he had bought to deceive people. How could it possibly possess Spirituality?

If this Night Watchman had not demonstrated supernatural abilities, Gais would have suspected that the man had stared at glowing Jellyfish for too long and developed hallucinations.

He sighed, took out the handkerchief he carried with him, and wiped his glasses.

"My respected officer, I believe that under the questioning of your extraordinary abilities, I have no secrets left from you."

Looking at the red ember repeatedly brightening and dimming in Abel's hand, he said with a smile:

"Since you have already obtained your answer, I suppose it is time for me to leave. You surely would not truly use extraordinary abilities to convict an ordinary citizen like me of a grave crime such as blasphemy, would you?"

Abel raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly forward.

"You know that interrogation results I obtain through my abilities cannot serve as evidence against you?"

"Of course, my respected officer. If the results obtained through your abilities could be used as evidence in every case, then the Peace Officers and courts in this city might as well close their doors early."

Gais had already regained his usual composure. On the way to the Night Watchman Interrogation Office with Abel, he had figured out the implications.

"I'm sorry, but until the matter has been thoroughly investigated, I still cannot let you leave just like that."

Abel leaned back. His eyes half-closed as the scent of tobacco grew richer with every inhale and exhale.

Seeing that Abel was completely unmoved, Gais spread his hands.

"If you insist on doing this, then very well."

He watched wisps of smoke rising through the air and spoke again:

"But as a true gentleman, I am certain you would not enjoy such delicious Rixi Rose cigarettes all by yourself."

"Oh? You know this brand?"

Abel rubbed the cigarette butt between his fingers. A friend had brought it back for him before; it was a specialty from the Southern Continent, and he had only two packs.

"Of course. This distinctive rose fragrance can only come from tobacco cured under the full sunlight of the Southern Continent."

Abel nodded, then took another cigarette from the inner pocket of his uniform and handed it to Gais in the interrogation chair.

"Not bad. You have good taste."

Gais looked at the middle-aged man before him, took out a tinderbox, and lit his own cigarette as well.

He took a deep drag, the faint rose fragrance lingering between his teeth.

The two of them smoked face-to-face like that, white mist slowly curling through the upper reaches of the interrogation room before drifting straight into the darkness above, where the ceiling could not be seen.

Gais enjoyed the brief tranquility and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"I once lived in the Southern Continent for a time. I also made a living through... speeches."

"The faiths there are not as pure as those of the Northern Continent's nations. They are filled with primitivism and savagery."

Abel silently watched his pale green eyes and moving lips without speaking.

"If possible, I would of course like to possess extraordinary abilities as great as yours. I can swear it."

"But as you can see, I am merely an ordinary man, making a meager living by offering psychological comfort to others who are just as pitiable."

Hearing the same explanation again, Abel stared at Gais for a while longer. Then he crushed out his cigarette and smiled as if he had made up his mind.

"Your name is Gais, right? You're very good at telling stories. Talking with you is quite pleasant."

He opened the cabinet behind him, which was packed densely with bottles.

Some dark-red coagulated substance lay at the bottom of the bottles, with a layer of liquid separated above it, resembling tofu.

"You may continue insisting on your story."

"And I will help you verify whether those claims are false."

Abel took out one of the bottles. He gently pulled out the oak stopper, and a faint salty, fishy scent mingled with the smell of tobacco.

His hand slowly rose, tilting the bottle mouth downward as he raised his head.

A sound like flowing river water came from within the bottle, and a pale-red trickle slowly flowed from its mouth into his own.