Evil Gods Don’t Save People

What would be a good name?

What face should He use?

What personality should He adopt?

The god brushed the thoughts aside, putting His (metaphorical) carefully crafted mask back on, a mask that hid nothing yet everything at the same time.

This situation was also unexpected.

The Fool hadn't planned what He was about to do.

A piece that didn't belong to the overall plan. Would it prove useful later?

The Fool paused.

'Wait, so that means it's a 'coincidence'?'

And the suggestion also came from a Spectator to begin with, was this Adam's influence on the weaker Beyonders of His pathway?

No, He should stop being so paranoid. He was above Sefirah Castle right now.

The Fool reassured Himself—did a divination—was perfectly calm—still did a few more divinations—and—tried purification—was finally ready.

'If I also try exorcism, just in case-'

And was reassured.

Snapping His fingers, the Fool lifted the seal on Himself, allowing His power to create a vessel and transfer part of His consciousness outside of Sefirah Castle, like gods did when they once roamed the land.

Actually, the act of snapping fingers was a habit and did not have any impact on His use of powers itself, but the Fool was used to putting on a show—even though the only one seeing Him right now was a dog.

Appearing in the real world, the Fool was immediately greeted by a bright landscape, so different from the gray fog always surrounding Him or the streets of Backlund at night.

With a face resembling Zhou Mingrui but with sharper and colder features, the god strolled aimlessly.

Then, His attention was piqued by a restaurant.

Since He had brought money with Him, the Fool sat down and commanded Pig Blood, curious to check if the reviews on this Green Lemon Restaurant He had read in the newspaper were deserved.

After a while, the waiter came back and served His order.

The Fool picked up His fork when the weather outside the window suddenly changed. Strong gales rose up from all directions, causing the trees to sway back and forth.

Raising His gaze, the Fool saw a man in a black cloak trudging through the wind with a lantern in his hand.

Seemingly sensing that he was being watched, that person turned his body sideways and looked up at the second floor of the restaurant.

Then, the god discerned his appearance and saw that the area where the person's head was supposed to be was empty inside the black cloak. There was only a bare neck with bright red blood spewing out of it.

The person slunk his body back down, pulled at his cloak before continuing forward.

"…"

The Fool's fork paused, His gaze blank.

'Can't I have a meal in peace…'

As if to mock Him, the screams of a child seated at the table behind Him resounded.

The god decided to finish His plate first.

Thus, after a quick meal, teleporting out of the restaurant and reporting Bansy Harbor to a nearby Church, the Fool strolled the streets of Bayam in search of a good place to eat dessert.

However, for dessert, fate had reserved the Fool something a bit different from what He expected.

"…"

A creature of the Spirit World wearing a complex, gorgeous, dark, and gloomy black dress had appeared before Him. She didn't have a head, but her drooping hands held four identical blonde heads with red eyes.

If He had to say, she should be a weakened angel, around Sequence 2, an Ancient Bane of the Chained Pathway… Hmm, that seemed familiar. Where did He hear that again?

'Why is this happening to me? I'm only an evil god!'

Holding a limited edition-flavored ice cream He just bought in His hand, the Fool stared at the angel facing Him.

And decided to bypass her.

He didn't know her, so He didn't need to have a chat just because He crossed paths with a fellow high-ranking Beyonder.

The other angel stopped Him, speaking up, "You…" "Why…" "My…" "Arm…"

An arm?

Everyone had arms, what was the problem?

The Fool was in denial.

"How…" "Do you…" "Have…" "It…?"

Nope, who would carry an arm with them in this day and age-

Staring back at the Ancient Bane, the Fool wondered if He was given that weird gift for this moment.

Since everyone's attention was already on the headless lady carrying four heads, the god didn't shy away from taking out a cut off arm in the middle of the streets—meanwhile, the passers-by clearly understood He was a psychopath and backed away even more, some leaving to contact the authorities.

"You mean that this is yours?"

At least, His spiritual intuition told Him so. She must be right.

The Ancient Bane nodded.

"Yes…" "It…" "Is…" "Mine…"

The Fool handed it over to her, not wanting to carry a body part with Him any longer.

"Someone from the Life School of Thought gave it to me. I'm not sure why."

The Ancient Bane continued to stare at Him, maybe not believing His answer.

After a moment of silence, something came to the Fool's mind.

"I'll probably need a messenger. Are you interested in signing a contract?"

Communication occupied a large place in the lives of mortals. Now that phones didn't exist anymore, the messenger market was of high value!

It was important to secure a high-quality messenger at the lowest cost possible while He had the opportunity.

The Ancient Bane considered the god's proposal for a moment and replied, "One…" "Gold coin…" "Per…" "Letter…"

…As expected, should He ask another Spirit World creature?

After a brief stand-off, the Fool gave up and accepted the deal.

"Hmm… Wait, I remember how to do this…"

The Ancient Bane skeptically stared at the god as He struggled to create a contract, using divination to bring back the few scattered memories related to such knowledge.

Finally, He showed her the finished product, filling in the pseudonym He had chosen into the summoning incarnation.

Satisfied, the Ancient Bane signed her name, sealing her pact with the evil god.

'Reinette Tinekerr.'

***

After Reinette went back to the spirit world, trying a few desserts and sitting at a bar by following His spiritual intuition, the Fool was approached by someone.

"Mate, you look like an adventurer." He tilted his head and smiled.

The man who greeted him had black hair, blue eyes, and aged facial features. His temperament was rather wretched.

The Fool blankly looked at the stranger, wondered why someone suddenly talked to Him, wondered if it was indeed Him who was talked to, then wondered if He indeed looked like an adventurer.

Should He try divination?

"…Hey, are you listening?"

The Fool honestly replied, "No."

The man hid his reaction, pretending he was unperturbed by the casual admittance, and continued, "I can tell you're a hunter, a hunter that chases after bounties and riches."

'…Do I?'

The short man looked around and lowered his head, suppressing his voice while he said, "Have you heard of the Specter Empire?"

The Fool let everything the man said into one ear and out of the other, not really paying attention when another person approached.

"Woody, you're trying to scam someone again! You damn sewer rat!" Logan picked up the short man and threw him into the open space in the middle of the bar, where he landed on the ground, sprawling.

The muscular man, with the bluish-green tattoo on his head, sat in the same position as Woody and guffawed.

"Sorry, these are the rats of our Damir Harbor. They always do things that ruin our reputation… In fact, we're all very friendly. If you have anything you want to ask about, don't hesitate to ask me. Heh heh, don't believe what they say about me. I'm an upright person, and I have nothing to do with Admiral Hell!"

'I didn't ask.'

Pretending to not know what was going on, the god expressionlessly inquired, "I want to know the latest rumors."

"No problem." Sea Eagle Logan slammed the bar top and said to the bartender, "Give me a plate of special cured meat. I'll be treating this mate to our most famous delicacy in Damir."

Indeed, this fellow must really be an upright person. What a nice guy.

The bartender, while still maintaining his cold expression, pushed open the door and entered the kitchen. Soon, he brought out a plate of red and white, finely cut cured meat.

"Five pounds." He didn't look at Sea Eagle Logan, and he instead looked straight at the Fool.

'…Or not.'

Already knowing the answer, the Fool queried, "You're the one who asked for it, so you should pay."

"Five pounds." Sea Eagle Logan turned his head to the side, smiling warmly as he raised his arm to show his muscles. "Everyone just heard it. In order to thank me, you offered to treat me to some special cured meat."

So, it was a scam, then?

The Fool smiled as well, His cold features giving Him a sharp impression, "I see."

Suddenly, the pirate's head was smashed to the ground, his body stuck on the floor where cracks had appeared, as if shattered by something very heavy.

And indeed, the Fool had used His power to graft a huge weight to press down on the man's body—accidentally killing him by the way.

The Fool then turned to the bartender with the same cold smile on His face.

"I paid one pound. Should I give you the four pounds left?"

The bartender had chills.

The Fool was thus able to leave while keeping His wallet safe, when He felt that someone was following Him.

Guided by His spiritual intuition, He directly headed to His stalker's hiding place.

"Hello."

Momentarily disconcerted, the stalker in question regained his senses.

After a few seconds of silence, he chuckled and said, "Very sharp."

The Fool: …

It was a man in a black cloak, approximately thirty years of age, and his eyebrows were charred yellow while his dark blue eyes were bright. His face wasn't too chiseled, as though he was from the area south of Intis, Lenburg, and Segar.

'He was in the bar earlier…'

"What do you want?"

The man in the black cloak laughed once again.

"The handling method that you displayed just now was very consistent with my taste. I chased after you to ask if you're interested in joining us. Although that guy named Logan was indeed pretending to be an informant of Ludwell, White Shark Hamilton does have connections with many pirates. He's a character with a shady background, so he'll definitely take your act of beating up one of his men at the bar to heart. There will definitely be problems for you in the future, and I can help you resolve this problem."

By now, the Fool had already stopped listening, deciding to cut him off after a while.

"And who might you be?"

The man coughed and said, "I forgot to introduce myself."

His expression turned solemn, no longer looking as jocular as he was before.

"Rear Admiral Iceberg Edwina Edwards's subordinate, fourth boatswain of the Golden Dream, Blazing Danitz."

After reporting his title, real name, and identity, Danitz waited patiently for the look of panic and fear to appear on the Fool's face.

The Fool blinked, not knowing what the low-Sequence pirate was waiting for before pretending to recall something and adding, "Blazing Danitz with a bounty of 3,000 pounds?"

Apparently, it wasn't what he was waiting to hear.

The god shook His head, letting out a small bit of pressure coming from His divinity to intimidate the pirate, and displayed the same cold smile as in the bar.

"Nice, I needed a guide."

Danitz's body was instinctively trembling, his spiritual intuition screaming danger and preventing him from refusing.

Then, He went ahead and turned back, as if waiting for Danitz to follow.

Against his will, the pirate was forced to become a guide.

As he slowly calmed down, Danitz then recalled an important question, "And you? W-what's your name?"

The other man didn't spare him a glance as He continued to walk, the same smiling expression on His face.

"Gehrman Sparrow."