Evil Gods Don’t Save People

"This is a… poorer area of Backlund. Are you sure you want to visit it?"

As a continuation of their previous tour, Zhou Mingrui and Fors reached the slums.

"Yes," replied Zhou Mingrui.

The poor were also inhabitants of Backlund, regardless of their miserable lifestyle.

Although Fors was worried that Mr. Fool might find these areas too dirty, maybe whether it was nobles or homeless people, the two weren't that different to Him. After all, what were ordinary humans in front of a god? The two must appear like ants that could be crushed easily.

As for the danger that visiting such an lawless area may pose, what threat did mere gangsters and thieves pose to a god?

Thus, Fors and Zhou Mingrui walked around the slums, ignoring the malicious gazes peering at them.

After they finished, Fors walked through the food stalls, searching for someone selling the spicy food that Mr. Fool mentioned wanting to try, when Zhou Mingrui paused.

"Mr- Zhou Mingrui?"

Zhou Mingrui smiled and sat on a bench next to Him.

"Go ahead, I'll wait here."

After a brief hesitation, Fors didn't question her god's words and nodded.

"I'll come back soon."

She was pretty sure there should be a spicy food stall around here.

After Fors left His sight, Zhou Mingrui turned His gaze to another direction.

Not that He was alone, someone was coming towards Him.

"Good evening," the person in question greeted Him.

It was an old man with a bandage over his eyes. Judging from his aura, he was likely from the Monster Pathway.

"And you are?" The Fool asked.

The old man bowed his head.

"I am merely an insignificant old man. I come from the Life School of Thought and was tasked to deliver something to Your Excellency."

The Fool's expression didn't betray anything, His gaze emotionless.

"I see," He simply said.

The old man also didn't talk further and took out something from his arms.

"…"

The Fool's previously emotionless gaze was now frozen.

No, no matter how much the Monster Pathway were charlatans, wasn't this too much? This degree of mystery seemed to surpass the Seer Pathway.

Noticing the Fool's presence and trying to contact Him was understandable, attempting to pass along a message was also understandable.

…Said message being passed along being someone's cut off arm was less understandable.

This was taking His words of being an evil god to a whole other level.

'This is a joke, right?'

The old man presented the strangely not-decomposing cut off arm to the Fool.

"This is a show of goodwill for Your Excellency."

Whose arm is this??

Zhou Mingrui resisted not using divination to look into what kind of conspiracy this was and took the 'present' handed to Him.

"I was told that you should bring this everywhere with you from now on. This was all, may Your Excellency have a good night."

Are you serious? Really?

The old man then left.

As the Fool stored the arm in His spirit body to not be apprehended by the police as a suspicious person, Fors finally came back.

"I found it."

Zhou Mingrui received the food and decided to forget about this meeting.

Somewhere else, a skeleton messenger and handed a letter to Azik.

Surprised, the Death Consul opened it and began to read.

'Greetings,

I've been staying at home these days. It's quite boring and the fog looks like Backlund's. I've decided to kill the Ancient Sun God with a friend. My name is Zhou Mingrui. The address you can send letters to is XX XXX XXX.'

(37th revised version, Fors removed the elements that could be interpreted as threats from the letter at the last minute and gave up on the rest, while the Fool replaced the words 'Sefirah Castle' and other things by more common terms to hide His identity as a god and rewrote the sentences many times. They did their best.)

Azik stared at the letter in incomprehension.

'…Killing the Ancient Sun God?'

Meanwhile, Mr. Fool forgot the fact that an ordinary person wouldn't talk about killing gods casually.

***

'Huh?'

Once more, the peace above the gray fog was perturbed by a lit up crimson star.

However, although Mr. Fool was now somewhat accustomed to it, the prayer this time didn't come from a Tarot Club member.

As His spirituality made contact, the constantly expanding and contracting crimson star presented the images and sounds contained within.

A black-haired woman in a classical robe had fallen to the ground, writhing in pain.

She held an ordinary-looking celestial globe in one hand, and in the other, she held a short scepter that wasn't even the length of a small arm. Her strong will to survive almost broke through the binding of the crimson stars and directly entered the Fool's ears.

Like other Tarot Club members, this woman's figure appeared rather blurry, making it difficult to discern her exact appearance, but there were some things the Fool could clearly see, such as her facial features, such as her splitting cheek muscles and the flesh inside that was contracting into eyeballs. Other features included her ears stretching outwards like a trumpet, or her fingers which were scratching at the floor to create bright streaks of blood, as well as a pair of cold, lashless eyes that were almost transparent and were situated above her.

The black-haired girl's mutation didn't decline. Her body was tenaciously healing itself, causing the flesh and blood which resembled an eyeball to melt away. Her ruptured muscles fused together, and her extended ears shrunk inward… Every detail was in a repetitive see-saw-like struggle between the two states.

'The Hidden Sage again?'

It seemed almost coincidental-

The Fool nearly closed the prayer.

However, trusting in His above average intuition that told Him this wasn't an artificially created meeting, He resisted the impulse and pulled up the woman's spirit body above the gray fog.

'Hello. This is the charity service, Tarot Club, rescuing random strangers in distress,' The Fool lampooned.

The black-haired lady's figure instantly appeared at the side of the long bronze table, sitting on a chair that didn't belong to any of the current members of the Tarot Club.

Seeing that the mutation on her body had weakened significantly, He patiently waited for the other party to speak.

After all, from experience, He didn't quite know what to say in these kinds of situations, so it was better to wait and see what would happen.

The black-haired lady was still somewhat adrift. One second, she was struggling in extreme pain, with her vision gradually turning black, and the next second, she was inside a towering domed palace. Beneath her was an endless and silent gray fog that extended outwards endlessly. How couldn't she be taken aback?

After a brief moment of silence, she turned her gaze to the figure sitting at the very end of the mottled long table. She asked with an ethereal voice, "Is this the Underworld?"

"No," The Fool replied.

The black-haired lady froze, gradually regaining her senses.

Instinctively, she scanned her surroundings before finally casting her gaze at the mysterious man shrouded behind the gray fog.

'White shirt, tailcoat, no tie, black pants, bright leather boots, seemingly black hair, and a blurry appearance. There's nothing strange about this…'

The lady in black cautiously asked, "How may I address you?"

"Mr. Fool," The Fool answered.

'The Fool…' The black-haired lady ruminated over the words but couldn't recall hearing it anywhere.

"Mr. Fool, were you the one who saved me?"

"Yes."

The Fool was satisfied. He had gained enough experience to smoothly answer questions now (or so He thought).

Cattleya immediately stood up and said, "Thank you for your assistance. If you have anything you need me to do, you can directly instruct me—as long as it is within my capabilities and doesn't violate my principles."

The Fool's delusion of being able to answer questions smoothly was shattered as soon as He thought about it—despite its premise being wrong to begin with—the Fool left speechless as He didn't have anything He wanted from her.

After all, what could a mortal offer that a being stronger than a True God couldn't have?

'A new unlimited source of food and money came in…' The Fool lampooned.

Instead of answering, He changed the subject.

"If something similar happens again, you can recite my name."

'Recite your name…' Cattleya's lips quivered, instinctively wanting to refuse.

In the end, she didn't say anything and fell silent for a long time.

After repeatedly weighing the pros and cons, she stood up, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and slightly bowed as she said, "How may I be of service?"

"I don't know."

There was a moment of silence.

'…What exactly am I getting into?'

"…By your will." Cattleya sat down again and asked cautiously, "What is your honorific name?"

After listening to the three lines of His honorific name, Cattleya looked at the other empty seats and asked after some deliberation, "Honorable Mr. Fool, will there be others here as well?"

"Yes. They gather every Monday."

After a few seconds of silence, Cattleya continued, "Can I participate?"

She thought that since she was connected with the mysterious existence known as Mr. Fool, it was better to know more than to do nothing.

"Sure. It's at 3 p.m., Backlund time. Without my permission, you are not to leak this matter."

"Alright!" Cattleya answered without hesitation.

The Fool tapped his left index finger and revealed the rest of the tarot cards on the bronze table.

"Choose a card."

"A card?"

"It will be your codename."

Cattleya scanned the cards and immediately said, "The Hermit."