Tess

“They must be really desperate for content to make this into an article. Impressive creativity. They’d succeed as fiction writers.”

From briefly facing a member of the protest group, they’d linked it to class conflicts between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, tied it to politics, and even created articles stirring fear as if terrorism might happen right away. Even to Jess, who had the largest share in articles mentioning the Briane family, it seemed pathetic. The article itself wasn’t the problem. If there were issues with the content, the company would handle it, and Rus wasn’t particularly concerned. The problem was…

“Rus.”

“Mother.”

Unable to wait until her son came in, his mother, Margo, had come out to greet him. Her beautiful face was filled with worry. Only after holding her son in her arms did she seem relieved, letting out a sigh.

“What if it had been a real terrorist attack?”

“You know how sensitive I am about such things.”

“It’s often those who appear ordinary who are more dangerous.”

“I’ll be careful.”

It was an obvious response, but the fastest way to reassure her. Rus affectionately gave her a kiss on the cheek and went upstairs. Still not at ease, Margo kept sighing as she watched Rus’s retreating figure. Jess gently massaged her tense shoulders, telling her not to worry.

“Sometimes I think your brother seems precarious.”

“Come on, he’s not a child.”

“I almost wish he would act his age and cause trouble by getting caught up in fun. Others say it’s good that they don’t have to worry about him.”

Rus was so ascetic that he enjoyed almost nothing. Whatever he did, he treated it as a duty, never showing interest or initiating anything himself. Boredom and lethargy can sometimes be more dangerous poisons than debauchery and greed.

“Well, if nothing else works out, leaving our family name in the religious world wouldn’t be bad. Maybe that’s why he showed interest in that area today.”

Jess joked to lighten the mood, but that was a direction she didn’t want to consider. How much better it would have been if she had mixed even half of Jess’s personality with Rus. Watching Jess whistling as he prepared to go to a yacht party with models, her headache returned.

*

*

After showering, Rus dried his hair while looking at his laptop and opened a search window. When he typed “Spiritual Church,” a website appeared. On the first screen, a handsome middle-aged man in a suit was welcoming visitors with open arms.

Without the Spiritual Church logo, the site was so glamorous that one might mistake him for a model selling products. A beautiful house and stunning scenery. Relaxed country living. It advertised that all this was possible for free. It claimed that self-sufficiency through communal living was possible, so one only needed to bring oneself. It was a tempting proposition for people suffering from real-world stress and anxiety. Especially appealing to those who had grievances against Alphas or Omegas.

Other search results only showed positive reactions or requests to join the Spiritual Church, with almost no negative content to be found. There were very few of those anyway. When he searched for the incident Andrew had mentioned, there were only allegations raised, with inconclusive results and no follow-up articles.

Rus closed his laptop without searching further. The man had sparked his interest, but only briefly. There were countless religions in the world, and none was perfectly flawless.

*

*

As Michael, dressed in a suit, entered the church, all the believers’ eyes lit up. He was a typically handsome white man. Blond hair and blue eyes. Thick eyebrows and deep eyes. A strong jaw. His appearance gave people a sense of affection and trust.

He had come to Holyland and settled there 10 years ago when he was thirty-two. His father and the founder of the Spiritual Church, Thomas Whaley, had sensed health issues and called him in.

Michael, who had run away from home at fifteen, unable to endure poverty and strict control, had committed fraud in various places thanks to his trustworthy appearance. While his father was thriving with a new vision, he was in and out of prison. After living almost like a stranger, he heard the news that his father was terminally ill. In a family drama, there might have been a sequence of conflict and reconciliation at that point, but Michael visited the village thinking he might take some money after his father’s death, only to discover a gold mine.

A new paradise created by his father. A gold mine that would bring unlimited wealth. Plus, there were slaves to mine the gold. All he had to do was deceive their eyes and ears with sweet words instead of money.

Forging a career was a piece of cake for him. Playing the role of a devout successor, he gradually built trust. He slowly transformed his father’s kingdom to suit his own taste.

Money, women, power. Everything a man could desire was there. After his father’s death, he brought in people he had met in prison. Those seeking continuous and convenient wealth cooperated with Michael. They infiltrated the believers, acting as informants and surveillants. Without ever revealing their true colors, they played the role of faithful apostles.

Thorough control and isolation. Within that, humans can be tamed with carrots and sticks. Faith gave him absolute power. Michael twisted the Spiritual Church doctrine to be more provocative. If a lie is repeated with confidence and boldness, it becomes perceived as truth. With his polished tongue, he became a revered leader.

“Today, we’re holding a special gathering instead of our regular service. You all know the reason why, don’t you?”

The leader began with a light and gentle tone. With a subtle smile, he looked down at the congregation.

“We went out on a missionary activity to draw suffering brothers and sisters into our sanctuary. This time, we have a sister who went out to spread the word for the first time.”

The leader smiled at Nancy, who sat at the front with her hands tightly clasped in tension.

“Let’s hear from our sister Nancy.”

As people applauded, Nancy went forward with a flushed face. Dressed in white clothing at the leader’s recommendation, Nancy began to speak.

“That place was like the Tower of Babel, the epitome of arrogance. It’s too filthy to even mention its name. Humans who haven’t yet awakened were crowding in without realizing it was hell. The devil’s brides were all undressing and seducing people, enjoying themselves. The alphas were watching with evil smiles. It was truly frightening. Those devils tried to block us, but we didn’t back down. The leader’s words gave us strength to defeat them! I prayed desperately for that place to burn with fire from heaven. Like Sodom and Gomorrah. But my prayers weren’t answered. Perhaps there are still souls for us to save inside. Or I believe God has left them for the final days. I wanted to punish all those devils, but I left that place without looking back. I didn’t want to become a pillar of salt!”

Nancy continued her speech without hesitation, as if she had memorized it countless times. When Nancy teared up during her speech, several others sympathized with her emotion. The leader patted Nancy’s shoulder and whispered that she had done well enough.

“Let’s watch a video and then continue.”

When the lights went out, a video with dull quality began to play. Images encompassing all the world’s suffering and sin unfolded rapidly. War. Disease. Violence and crime. As the stimulating scenes continued as if the outside world was entirely like that, everyone let out groans of distress. Sighs filled the church. Their expressions directly reflected their state of mind.

My goodness, how could they? Oh, God. Save them.

Just before the believers’ emotions reached their peak, the leader turned off the video. Bang! People were startled when the leader struck the pulpit hard enough to make it resonate.

“Men tumbling with men, women committing fornication with women—if this isn’t Sodom and Gomorrah, then what is it!”

His voice was agitated, and his expression was filled with anger. The gentle demeanor from earlier had vanished. He resembled a vanguard commander urging his troops to defeat the enemy before battle.

“The devil will use us to expand his influence. The devil’s descendants, alphas, and their brides, omegas, are the evidence. Even at this moment, they are planting the devil’s seed in omega wombs, ensuring more devils are born. Then we will be dominated by them and become slaves to the devil. Is that what we want?!”

When the leader asked, all the believers shouted in unison, “No!”

“I ask again. Are we slaves to the devil?”

“No!”

The shouting was so loud it seemed the church might explode. The leader’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. His voice dropped to a calmer level.

“Then what must we do? We must eliminate omegas so that devils can no longer spread their seed! We must fill the world with our children, the true children of God, and purify this corrupted world!”

Behind the leader, another video appeared. This time, it displayed a very clear picture contrasting with the previous video. Beautiful pastoral landscapes, vibrant flowers, trees, mountains, and animals. A man and woman holding a baby, looking happy. The leader standing with arms spread wide before them made this place seem like heaven, and he looked almost like a messiah. No one recognized the contradiction between his radical speech and that peaceful scenery. No one at all.

*

*

“You did very well, Nancy.”

After the gathering ended, when the leader praised her, Nancy smiled shyly. At sixteen, she was at an age where emotions couldn’t be hidden. Her eyes, filled with fervent longing, wouldn’t leave the man’s face. With a mature charm flowing from him right before her, boys her age seemed like mere children.

Though Iliya was no less attractive in appearance, Nancy felt no romantic appeal from him. Yet according to the rules of this place, Nancy would soon marry Iliya. The rule was that men marry at eighteen and women at sixteen. The duty of believers was to increase the number of beta families. They needed to marry quickly and have as many beta children as possible.

Nancy’s mother, Mrs. Rollins, was a devout believer. Even before coming to Holyland a year ago, she had lived a puritanical life. Nancy, who grew up in a remote area without attending school, liked the populous Holyland and quickly adapted to the lifestyle here. Even believers of over ten years couldn’t match Nancy’s enthusiasm.

“Nancy, you need to take the children home with Iliya.”

When Mrs. Rollins interrupted, Nancy’s expression cooled dramatically. She had wanted more praise, and what was so important about looking after children? But her desire to be recognized as a diligent sister by the leader suppressed her discontent. The leader smiled and waved his hand, telling her to go ahead.

“Too much praise will make the child arrogant.”

Mrs. Rollins spoke in a strict tone, watching Nancy walk away. The pale-faced woman was always serious and rigid, but she was especially respectful toward the leader.

“Don’t worry. Sister Nancy is more diligent than anyone.”

“I’m concerned that she seems too excited with the marriage approaching.”

“Brother Iliya is also a faithful brother, so there’s no need to worry.”

Mrs. Rollins glanced sideways at the leader. Although his answer seemed fine on the surface, the woman somehow felt uncomfortable with him. Sometimes the leader’s expression appeared mask-like. His manner of speaking, as if predetermined model answers had been set, made her feel distant, like an employee mechanically dealing with customers.