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    Chapter 1

    #1. Live Righteously If You Don’t Want to Die

    (All doctrines, religions, historical settings, and professions mentioned herein are entirely fictional and bear no relation to reality.)

    (The gong and shou do not have even 0.1g of professional ethics, so let’s not curse those who work diligently in their respective professions in real life.)

    (Just curse out these fictional characters; they can’t sue you anyway.)


    Elaine was somewhat shy and reserved but had lived her life as kindly as possible without causing significant harm to anyone. Every weekend, she would spend over four hours praying at the temple, and on weekdays, she devoted thirty minutes each morning to prayer.

    “I-I’m sorry, Henry! It’s all my fault! Please spare me!”

    “You must’ve done something really bad if you’re begging like this, huh?” Elaine believed in the inherent goodness of people, so she forgave her husband every time he got angry and raised his hand to her, only to later cry and apologize. She even considered giving him another chance as an act of kindness.

    “You bitch! Today we both die together. How’s that sound? Let’s go to heaven side by side!”

    “I don’t think you will be going to heaven.”

    As someone spoke quietly from behind them, Henry glared at the window with bloodshot eyes while holding a knife in one hand and grabbing onto Elaine’s hair with the other.

    “F*ck! Who the f*ck are you?!”

    A young man with striking eyes and eyebrows emerged from the darkness, exuding calmness despite his rugged appearance.

    “The Lord sees potential in all living beings, which is why He grants them opportunities.”

    He wore a pitch-black robe adorned with palm tree patterns, the uniform of a priest of the Yurisia Faith.

    “F-Father Damian!” Elaine recognized him immediately and burst into tears. As her reddened eyes welled up, Damian offered her a warm smile.

    “Yes, my young soul. There’s nothing to fear now.”

    “What brings a priest here…?”

    Henry muttered something under his breath, then roughly grabbed Elaine’s hair again. “So, you’ve been visiting the temple often lately because of your relationship with him?”

    “It’s not her who is denying anything but rather what’s festering inside your head.” In the blink of an eye, Damian appeared before Henry and delivered a powerful kick to his chest. “To blame someone based on such flimsy evidence… You shouldn’t have done that.”

    Ack!” Despite Damian’s gentle rebuke, he mercilessly stomped on Henry’s face with his boot.

    “Do you know what this is?” Leaning down, Damian held up a golden scale seemingly out of nowhere right in front of Henry’s eyes.

    “This scale measures your sins, but it appears you haven’t committed any grave enough to warrant judgment yet.” As Damian explained, one side of the scale was tilted downward, though not touching the ground.

    “That’s because God believes every being has the potential to repent and return to the righteous path.”

    When Damian gently placed his long index finger on the lower pan, it tipped even further down.

    “Yes, He tends to give too many chances. Even when someone is pushed to the brink where we might wish for their death, He insists everyone makes mistakes.”

    Damian emphasized the word mistakes as he quietly gazed at Elaine.

    “But it takes far too long for a human who suffered at his hands to fully recover their lives. Human life is already fleeting enough as it is.”

    Clunk.

    As Damian pressed down on one side of the scale with his finger, Henry, who had been writhing like an insect sprayed with pesticide, finally gave up and hung his head limply.

    “I suppose that’s why you often write apologies.” A polite yet smooth voice came from a blond man striding through the window. He was a handsome young gentleman with an air of sophistication, clearly well-educated.

    ‘A window…?’

    Elaine lived in a twelfth-floor apartment without a balcony. So, how did he……

    Wait, before that—was Henry… dead?

    “If you ever need someone to talk to, please contact me.”

    The well-groomed young man smiled warmly at Elaine and handed her his business card.

    「Psychiatrist, Mikael Holibringer」

    Damian extended his large hand, pushing aside Mikael’s card, as he wore a trustworthy smile and spoke softly:

    “He is a demon, so if you want to talk, come to me instead.”

    Aah, that’s not fair. You’re interfering with my practice. But…” Mikael gently tapped the scale in Damian’s hand while returning his card with a faint smile. “Can an angel like you commit murder?”

    Ah, ahhhh…” Elaine, who had been drifting in a foggy haze from confusion, returned to reality with a sob and fell on her knees before Damian. “I-I’m so sorry, sob, Father Damian! You’ll be accused of murder because of me…”

    Shh, calm down, Elaine.” Damian gently cupped her cheeks as if handling fragile glass, smiling warmly at her. “Nothing you should fear will happen.”

    “But… Ah! But if you go to prison because of me……”

    “For now, don’t worry about others; focus on yourself.” Damian softly whispered while patting her thin back.

    “If healing your wounded soul proves too difficult alone, feel free to visit the temple anytime. Oh, I mentioned life insurance before, didn’t I? By any chance, did you purchase coverage for your husband’s death?”

    With Damian effortlessly changing the subject, Elaine seemed to lose touch with reality. As tears rolled down her cheeks, she stammered out a reply.

    “T-The priest advised me… so I got it just in case…”

    “Are you selling insurance now, Teacher?” Mikael chuckled lightly and teased him.

    [TL/N: It doesn’t necessarily mean “Teacher”, but I’m not sure what to use. Should I use Mr. Damian for 선생님 (Seonsaengnim)]

    Damian gave Mikael an exasperated smile before stepping away from Elaine.

    “In this world, it’s still challenging for a young widow to survive alone.”

    Ahh, I was joking. Actually, that’s wise advice.” Mikael placed his business card on Elaine’s vanity table. “Psychiatric treatment can be quite expensive, you know.”

    “Huh? Who’s there again?” The third visitor entered through the window.

    This time, it was a white-furred dog with a young woman’s voice. She stood tall with her tail raised and barked at Damian.

    “Why do you kill so many people, Sir Damian?! If we’re going to meet this often, just make me your dedicated reaper! It feels like I see you every other day!”

    Damian extended his hand and gently scratched under the chin of the puppy―no, probably the reaper―with a charming smile on his face.

    “I’m glad to hear that since I am growing quite fond of you.”

    Ugh… Again, again! You manipulate people as easily as breathing! And yet, you don’t even mean it!”

    The reaper openly kicked at Damian, as if trying to rid itself of something dirty, before moving towards Henry’s mouth.

    “On May 4th, 921 AD, at 23:09 hours, Henry Martin dies from heart failure due to Angel Damian. The soul will be transferred to the sanctuary.”

    As a white mist-like substance emerged from Henry’s lips and formed into a sphere, the reaper swallowed it whole and headed towards the window.

    “Don’t let me see you today anymore, understood, Sir Damian?”

    “Yes, please. Oh, and could you send over the cleanup crew on your way out?”

    “Of course. May blessings be upon the righteous.” The reaper leaped out the window on all fours.

    Damian gently placed his palm on Elaine’s forehead as she stared off into space.

    “Forget everything now and rest.”

    As Elaine writhed about before finally passing out, Damian cradled her limp body and laid her down on the bed.

    “Are you going to pray for forgiveness now?”

    Mikael effortlessly landed beside Damian after he slowly descended from the window onto the alley below.

    “Forgiveness? Why would I need that?”

    “Because you just killed someone?”

    “If another being kills a human, it is considered murder, but when we kill humans, it is justified punishment.”

    Mikael blinked innocently with his bright blue eyes, like the sea on a sunny day. “Angels have it so good. They can kill whomever they please.”

    “Yes, indeed.” Damian leaned slightly toward Mikael and gave him a sly smile. “Wouldn’t you want to be an angel?”

    As Mikael gazed upon Damian’s refined features, he found himself momentarily breathless. Under thick, straight eyebrows were cold, single-fold eyelids framing mesmerizing black eyes. Below those stood a high, masculine nose typically seen only in paintings, topped off by a sensual yet commanding mouth. He was truly a masterpiece incarnate.

    And his body! His muscular physique looked insanely sensual yet ascetic at the same time, making me want to tear off his priestly robes violently and thrust my erect c*ck against those firm b*ttocks.

    “Wow, you just gave me a hard-on. You’re truly skilled at seduction, Teacher.”

    Mikael tried to steady his labored breathing from arousal, striving for nonchalance as he replied, “In this chaotic world, it’s essential to guide young souls towards God through temptation.”

    “So, I guess we’re not heading straight to the temple?”

    As Damian led the way out of the alley, Mikael followed closely beside him.

    “In your words, let’s have a drink and rest before writing that confession.”

    “You have money for drinks?” Damian wordlessly pulled out his wallet and glanced inside. Mikael leaned over to peek at its contents.

    “You can’t even buy one cup of mead with just 1 bat, Teacher.” With a light sigh, Mikael placed his hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Let me treat you.”

    “Ah, are you sure? You paid for my meal last time too.”

    “Yes, I did. And then I also covered your share for tea afterward.”

    “It seems like you have quite a bit of money.” Damian chuckled without any hint of embarrassment. Indeed, someone as handsome as him might naturally expect others to foot the bill.

    Mikael’s stern gaze softened as he responded with a smile, “Well, I am a demon, after all. Most demons tend to be quite wealthy.”

    “It would be nice if good people could also prosper these days. But more importantly, I feel guilty constantly receiving your favors.”

    “Oh, this isn’t really a favor… Be careful now.” Mikael swiftly pulled Damian towards him, protecting him from an approaching carriage.

    Even after the carriage passed, Mikael didn’t let go but instead casually wrapped his arm around Damian’s waist.

    “Let’s consider it an investment for what I desire.”

    The sight of Mikael’s long, slender fingers tightening within the black fabric resembled a snake constricting its prey.

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