This Isn’t an Erotic Game?

Mammon’s mouth fell open.

[What the hell is that guy?]

Such skillful agitation.

Moreover, his words didn’t sound like they were prepared in just a day or two.

There was no separate prepared agitator.

Finally, the situation turned towards the worst case scenario Mammon had been most worried about.

Far from withdrawing from the stage, the saint bastard had inserted himself as one of the key figures.

[That damn bastard really!! Why the hell isn’t he leaving!?]

Generally, if someone was a saint chosen by a god, there was a high possibility they would be beings who were ignorant of the ways of the world and relied only on the will of the god.

That should be normal, but this saint bastard once again didn’t move according to his intentions as if to show off.

[What on earth should I do about this?]

Mammon had to hold his head and ponder for a long time.

He looked down at the city.

He watched the scene of workers, which started with thousands, now swelling to tens of thousands, then hundreds of thousands, joining the strike following the saint.

It was the scene he wanted.

[I was planning to cause an endless war between businessmen crazy with greed for wealth and laborists crazy with lust for power…]

Mammon knew labor theory very well.

He had read <On Capital>, which laborists revered like a bible, over hundreds of times.

Therefore, Mammon understood very well the fundamental limitations of laborists.

Although they were seeds that wanted to start a revolution out of anger against capitalism, ironically, their ideology was one that had the possibility of corrupting much more rapidly than any capitalist.

The scene of laborists who seized power through revolution gradually corrupting with lust for power and eventually becoming no different from capitalists, and countless poor and penniless people writhing in pain while endlessly bleeding between the greed of such capitalists and revolutionaries.

That was what Mammon wanted.

He was planning to gulp down all the enormous souls and resentments that would pour out in that process.

But the variable called the saint appeared and twisted the board from the start.

[…No. No. There’s no need to think negatively, is there?]

But soon Mammon changed his mind.

Although the saint’s appearance created a variable, there was still a possibility to exploit it.

Thanks to that saint bastard, the revolution was burning even hotter than he had expected.

Then why not use that?

Most of the factory owners, capitalists, and upper class of Scrap Yard were already puppets that Mammon could move as he wished.

And conversely, there were many of Mammon’s puppets among the laborists too.

When the revolution broke out, it was for the capitalists to thoroughly suppress the revolutionaries, and for the revolutionaries to engage in even more radical struggles to make even more blood spill.

[I was planning to put Karl Renaro at the forefront, but since the situation has turned out like this, I’ll have to change it to the saint.]

If he opened an era of madness where people died for him and terrorism and assassination ran rampant, how would that overly kind bastard react?

Amael clearly wouldn’t know what dangers the ideology of the laborists held.

He probably just came out to struggle and fight for the poor and oppressed.

But Mammon knew very well.

That good intentions don’t always lead to good results.

[Don’t die. I won’t kill you. Jericho Amael. Become the incarnation of revolution and reign and rule for a long, long time. And spill blood. Saint of Healing. Fight and fight for a long time. To fill my belly.]

Mammon burst into a gloomy laugh.

***

I knew that the population of Scrap Yard was close to 1 million.

As such a big city, the number of workers also reached hundreds of thousands.

And a general strike meant having to command those hundreds of thousands of workers all at once.

Of course, I couldn’t do that alone.

I needed help.

And the people who could provide that help soon came looking for me.

“I’m Karl Renaro.”

A group of people who identified themselves as laborists approached me and then took me to the basement of a small building in a corner of the city.

And there I could see a middle-aged man with a stern expression, who looked to be in his mid-40s, removing his disguise and coming towards me.

It was a familiar face.

I couldn’t not know him, as he was featured prominently in the newspapers every day.

The leader of the laborists.

Karl Renaro was looking at me with an excited face.

“May I call you Comrade Amael?”

I nodded. Then Karl Renaro began to speak passionately with an expression like a fan meeting their idol.

“Workers of the city, unite. Those words still remain in my ears. Excellent. No comrade could have given a better speech than you did. I was watching you with suspicious eyes, but now there’s no reason to doubt at all. You are a laborist. You are a comrade of revolution more wonderful than anyone else.”

Karl Renaro grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly.

“A general strike! Normally, we couldn’t have done this so easily. But Comrade Amael, thanks to you, we were able to do it easily. The entire city is looking at you.”

The middle-aged man was smiling brightly like a child.

But unlike his smile, his eyes were terrifyingly fierce.

“I want to ask one thing, Comrade Amael. What is the purpose of this strike? What is the purpose of this revolution? I want to clearly confirm for what purpose you stood up.”

Karl Renaro and the laborists around him all had excited faces.

But along with excitement, a slight uneasiness was also felt.

A saint revolutionary born in a city that rejected religion.

They probably wanted to make my position clearer.

“It’s to save the people of this city. No matter how much I treat and treat, if society is fundamentally rotten with problems, they’ll just become sick again.”

“What kind of society is this improved society for?”

“It’s a society where the poor can live like humans.”

“Does it not matter even if they don’t believe in the Goddess Lilia?”

Now I understand what Karl Renaro’s real intention was.

These people.

I heard they have a culture that rejected religion, but did they think I did this for proselytizing?

“It doesn’t matter if they don’t believe. I just want there to be no more injured people and no more suffering people. After fixing the system, I’ll leave.”

In the first place, I was someone who shouldn’t stay here for long.

Although the situation ended up like this somehow, what I wanted was just for workers to live like humans, not to stay in this city to establish an order and proselytize the people here.

“You’ll leave…”

“I never intended to stay in this city for long in the first place. I just want the living conditions of workers to improve.”

A satisfied smile formed on Karl Renaro’s lips.

“You’re not a religious person only interested in proselytizing. I’m impressed. To think someone like you still remained in the Pantheon. That heart truly interested in improving the treatment of workers. I understand well.”

Karl Renaro whistled.

At that signal, a group of people who seemed to have been hiding outside the room enter.

They were all armed with rifles, pistols, and what looked like bombs.

“We’ve already grasped the location of the police stations, the number of troops at each station, and their level of armament. Let’s work together. Your power can greatly boost the morale of the revolutionary comrades. Please use your power that can regenerate limbs even if they’re cut off for us.”

Dangerous looks.

Faces that looked like they could commit murder and violence without any hesitation.

“The capitalist pigs and dogs of the factory owners will now fear the revolution, as you said. The general strike is just the beginning. We’ll make their factories stop and freeze the mines. We’ll dry up their capital and start a war. Until blood flows from the hearts of those pigs. Until they shed tears of fear and terror, we won’t stop!!”

Karl held out his hand to me.

“Let’s work together! Comrade Amael!! Let’s make the revolutionaries the rulers of this city! Let’s make the vanguard and revolutionaries occupy the means of production and make it for workers only, not any capitalist!! If you lend your strength, we can do it!!”

I quietly looked at Karl’s outstretched hand.

I see.

Well, that makes sense.

If you talk about red things, red people will come.

I didn’t take Karl’s hand.

The boiling atmosphere started to flow strangely little by little when I didn’t show any reaction.

Karl pushed his hand even deeper towards me.

“Comrade Amael? Is there some problem?”

I carefully lowered Karl’s hand.

And shook my head.

“No. I won’t do that.”

“…What did you say?”

“This general strike will only be used as a means to bring the rulers of this city to the negotiating table. After that, I’ll borrow capital from Karma Company in the capital to buy the factories in this city. And as Karma Company did in the capital, I’ll proceed to normalize the jobs in this city.”

Karl Renaro’s expression hardened.

The gathered laborists started murmuring as if bewildered.

“Also, I’ll bring in healers from the Order of Grace to set up treatment centers and treat the sick here. They will only treat, not proselytize.”

“…”

“And finally, I’ll mobilize the imperial family to enact laws for workers and prevent this from happening again institutionally. That’s what I was thinking. I have no intention of picking up guns and bombs to commit murder. Your method is not one I can follow, Mr. Renaro.”

At my words, Karl Renaro collapsed into a chair as if shocked.

Some hot-tempered laborists were already glaring at me as if they would kill me.

“So you were a dog of the capitalists?”

“You’re even worse than a religious person trying to proselytize!! You were a pig trying to hand over the entire city to your order to fill your belly!!!”

“Comrade Renaro!! What are you doing? He’s a spy!! This so-called saint was never interested in building a paradise for workers in the first place!! Isn’t he saying things only dogs for capitalists would say!?”

With resentful expressions, some were subtly reaching for the pistols at their waists.

19 years old.

There were even 15-year-old teenagers.

Seeing their appearance full of only hatred and anger, unable to think things through, I was worried not for my life but for their well-being.

Mere pistols couldn’t kill me.

Don’t underestimate Time Stop and Body Modification.

I’ll be fine, but the moment you pull the trigger, you’ll be buried alive in the empire for life.

Please don’t do that.

In the vicious atmosphere where it seemed they might draw their guns and shoot at any moment, Karl Renaro raised his hand to stop the panting revolutionary comrades.

“What’s the reason?”

Karl asked me again in a trembling voice, “What’s the reason that the person who led the strike through a speech more laborist-like than anyone suddenly says things that only capitalist pigs would say? Why? Were all your statements about being for the workers lies?”

“…”

“I saw you treating patients while reducing your sleep and food. You know better than anyone how cruelly capitalists and factory owners exploit humans!! So why did you make such statements! I’m about to lose my reason now, Mr. Amael. So please explain. I have the right to hear.”

You want a spoiler, is that it?

Yeah.

You have the right to hear.

Moreover, I now have a title that won’t be doubted even if I give spoilers.

“I’m a foreseer recognized by the Pantheon. You know that, right? So I know how your revolution will end. I’ll tell you about that now.”

I knew all too well what these hot-blooded beings would eventually become.

“You will become beings who massacre more workers than any capitalist ‘for the sake of workers’.”