"Hey guys! Thank you for the meal!" I said to the waiter as I stood up from our table.

"It was our honor to serve you, Champion," the dark elf replied with another respectful bow, though I noticed tension in his golden eyes as they flickered toward the entrance. "Though perhaps... would you like to stay for dessert?"

"I think we have an audience that's been waiting for us for a while," I said, glancing around the lively establishment. The other patrons had grown oddly quiet, and I realized no new customers had entered for at least ten minutes. Even the usual carnival music playing outside had taken on an eerie quality, as if the very atmosphere was holding its breath.

I led my group toward the exit, the former gangsters clustering close behind me while Sergio and Alisa brought up the rear. The dark elf waiter gave me a knowing nod as we passed—the kind of gesture that suggested he'd seen similar situations before and was glad not to be involved.

Through my Mana Sense, I'd already noticed a strange group that had been guarding the entrance for the last ten minutes or so. While I couldn't be entirely certain they were after us, I doubted there were many other reasons for such an organized force to surround a fast-food restaurant in an amusement park, no matter how good their chicken was.

"For the back door?" Sergio whispered as he finally sensed who was waiting outside. His normally pale complexion had somehow managed to become even whiter, and I could feel his Mana fluctuating with barely contained anxiety.

"No worries, Mr. Vampire. I won't let anyone else hurt you." The words had barely left my mouth when a cross-shaped throwing knife whistled through the air, its silvered surface catching the neon lights as it spun toward my vampire companion's heart before he could even step through the doorway.

I didn't bother using magic, simply catching the projectile with my hand. The metal was cold to the touch yet somehow burned with an inner warmth. Great, holy weapons. Because regular ones weren't annoying enough.

"It wasn't exactly a nice greeting," I said, stepping forward to shield my companions as I studied our welcoming committee.

The scene before us looked like someone had dropped a medieval crusade into the middle of a carnival. Exactly forty people—because apparently, holy numbers were important—stood in an orderly half-circle around the entrance. They wore either gleaming silver armor or pristine white habits, both of which seemed suspiciously clean considering the amount of sugar-loaded snacks floating around. Their synchronized movements and identical blank expressions made Disney animatronics look natural by comparison.

Their leader, however, was something else. He wore simple white robes with a golden cross, yet somehow managed to make everyone else look like they'd bought their outfits at a Halloween clearance sale. His face belonged on a religious motivational poster, complete with that "I love all God's creatures but some need loving through divine punishment" kind of smile. Every movement was deliberate and graceful, as if he were constantly aware of invisible cameras filming his holy highlight reel.

Beside him stood a woman who looked like someone's very inappropriate fantasy of a battle nun. Her habit did little to hide curves that probably counted as their own deadly sin, though her face had all the warmth of a church gargoyle. She was the one who'd thrown the knife, and she didn't seem very happy about me catching it.

I spun her weapon between my fingers, admiring the fancy holy runes. Seriously, who puts this much effort into making a throwing knife? It suddenly vanished in a puff of sanctified smoke—show-off—and reappeared in her hand.

"Mille, you were too hasty," the man said without looking at her, his voice carrying the kind of smooth authority that probably got a lot of practice telling people they were sinners but loved them anyway. "As the Good Book teaches us, 'Judge not, lest ye be judged.' I must apologize for her... overzealousness."

"I think my hand slipped when I saw this vile creature," Mille replied, her tone suggesting she'd probably try to "slip" again given the chance. She stared at Sergio as if he'd personally offended her entire family tree and their pets.

"Vile or not," the leader chided with the patience of someone used to dealing with overeager demon hunters, "we must show restraint before our future brother. Are we not taught that 'he who is without sin cast the first stone'? The path to salvation welcomes all who would walk it. Why don't you show some remorse?" His serene smile never wavered, though his eyes suggested something more along the lines of "some walking paths end in convenient cliffs."

At their leader's acknowledgment, Mille dropped to her knees with mechanical precision, as if someone had pulled her holy puppet strings. The rest of the group remained perfectly still, their blank faces reflecting the carnival lights like the world's creepiest church choir.

He turned to me with a slight bow that managed to be both respectful and condescending at the same time. "Mr. Clinton Wyatt."

Behind me, I heard Marcus whisper, "What the fuck?" which pretty much summed up my thoughts exactly.

Mille's sudden display of submission made me raise an eyebrow. "No need for that," I said. "I find displays of forced humility rather distasteful. Besides, you're blocking access to this fine establishment—not great for business."

"'Give unto Caesar what is Caesar's,'" the man replied, his serene smile unwavering. "I shall ensure the owner is well compensated. My flock needs sustenance as well." He gestured to his followers, who remained as still as statues. Do they even eat? They look more like they run on holy energy and righteous indignation.

"You!" Sergio suddenly exclaimed, his usual cool demeanor cracking like thin ice. "This is impossible! How—" He grabbed Alisa's arm with enough force to make me worry for her circulation. "Clinton, we need to leave. Now!"

I understood his unease. That cross-shaped knife hadn't been a simple weapon—it radiated enough holy energy to make a demon's birthday party look like a church picnic. Someone had clearly put a lot of thought into making something specifically designed to ruin a vampire's day.

"I see you know my name," I said to the leader, "but I don't know yours. Quite rude, especially when attempting to murder someone under my protection right in front of me." I turned to the kneeling woman. "Stand up, beautiful. If I wanted you on your knees, I would have put you there myself."

"Yes, of course. How unwise of me," the man's voice remained smooth as expensive communion wine. "I am Lucius the Third, Pope of the Church of Human Liberation. And as the scripture says, 'Pride goeth before destruction,' after all. As for this little lamb, she's Mille, one of my Cardinals."

The Pope made a subtle gesture with his hand, and Mille rose with that same uncanny smoothness. Even this simple movement carried an underlying power that made my Mana Sense tingle.

I activated my Player's Virtual Interface, not wanting to waste energy checking levels individually. Well, well, well. The System had been busy these past three days—every member of their faceless mob registered as equivalent to a Tier 3 Cultivator, with levels between 200 and 250. Not bad for three days of Tutorial.

Mille showed as level 450, which explained why she felt confident enough to try skewering a vampire under my protection. But their leader...

He was only the second Tier 5 being I'd encountered here, sitting at exactly level 519. Still far from Barry's power, but enough to make this situation delicate.

Something wasn't adding up, though. These levels—it shouldn't have been possible to advance so quickly, even with the System's support and whatever they bought from the Booster Shop. As I scanned their bodies with my Mana Sense, I could feel the distinct division of power within them.

Stolen novel; please report.

The rank-and-file members' strength was a peculiar mix—about 60% seemed to come from whatever power they'd brought with them, while 40% was clearly the System's work. But the Pope and his Cardinal were different. Their power was almost entirely their own, with the System merely adding a thin veneer on top—perhaps 10% at most.

That original power... it was like looking at the opposite side of a coin I'd grown familiar with in Luminosa. If Sin Authority was corruption and degradation, this energy represented purity and order. The power of Virtues—something that made Sergio's vampiric nature recoil instinctively. I'd only encountered a couple of beings with this exact power in the other world, and it felt unusual to see so many bearers of it at once.

Great, I thought. Not only do we have religious zealots, but they're religious zealots with powers that predate the System. Just what this Tutorial needed.

Behind me, Kusogaki whispered something about "pay-to-win players," while Marcus and José shifted nervously. From their point of view, it indeed looked like a bunch of people had used millions of Temporary Points to boost themselves for free.

"So, Lucius—" I began, only to be interrupted.

"'His Grace' Lucius, or you may address him as 'Your Holiness,'" Mille corrected in that same mechanical voice, though now a hint of irritation cracked through her emotionless facade.

"So, Lucius," I continued deliberately, "first—why are you here? Second—how do you know my name? And third—what do you want? Make it quick and clear; I'm on a tight schedule."

"It's just as the Scripture foretold," Lucius replied, his voice maintaining that unnaturally perfect calm. Unlike his Cardinal, who looked ready to throw another knife, he showed no sign of annoyance at my irreverent tone. "You are indeed a man who strides straight to the point. As the Lord said, 'Blessed are the pure in heart.'"

His deep eyes locked onto mine, and something in them sent a chill down my spine. There was an uncanny quality to his gaze—like looking into the eyes of something wearing human skin. His emotions felt artificial, rehearsed.

"I am but a humble servant who follows a higher purpose," he continued. "I merely follow the Scripture and pursue my singular goal—to save humanity and guide it along God's path."

"God? Which one?" I asked. "Because I know of at least one Goddess, and I'm pretty sure she's not the only one. If the System's to be believed, we're dealing with gods aplenty."

Lucius shook his head as if I'd said something incredibly foolish. "I speak of the One True God, not those false deities. First, there was the Word, and He created humanity in His own image. I speak of the God of Humanity itself."

"So is He speaking to you?" I raised an eyebrow. "In your head or something?"

I couldn't dismiss him as just another religious fanatic—not when he wielded such power despite supposedly being from Earth, just like me. The source of that power remained unclear—it clearly wasn't granted by the System, yet somehow it had been received on Earth. While vampires could absorb Aether from living beings, their source of Mana was different. Earth, before its Awakening, had such minuscule amounts of Aether that reaching even the First Tier of cultivation should have been impossible. Perhaps there was some deity working behind the scenes, something with vast power similar to the Goddess who’d summoned me to Luminosa.

"Those who have ears to hear shall hear," he said, glancing at a book in his hands. "God knows all but speaks not to mortals. Yet through the Scripture, I follow His intentions."

What shocked me most was that I had not even noticed the book until he looked at it. Using my Mana Sense, I realized I still couldn’t properly detect it—as if it existed in a blind spot of my perception unless Lucius specifically allowed me to see it.

"And what does your scripture say about me?"

"The Lord reveals only what we need to fulfill His will," the Pope said matter-of-factly. His eyes shifted to Sergio. "And the scripture speaks of you as our greatest hope in defeating humanity's sworn enemies—the vampires."

"This one is under my protection," I said firmly as tension crackled in the air, nodding towards Sergio.

"That's not a problem at all," Lucius replied smoothly. "We only need one vampire—the Progenitor Queen herself."

"So you don't care about the others?" I asked. "Or do you plan to kill them all one by one after you get my help dealing with their boss?"

"It's fine either way." Lucius spread his hands in a gesture of divine reason. "Even their Clan leaders who think they rule the human race are worthless compared to her. Nothing but insects pretending to be dragons. Whether we get rid of them or not isn’t that important."

"The Progenitor is humanity's true enemy," Mille stated with cold certainty. "A genuine threat to both mankind and God."

"She doesn’t even exist—she’s just a legend," Sergio scoffed, though fear tinged his voice.

"Oh, ignorant little lamb," Lucius said, his perfect smile never wavering. "You're so insignificant among your kind that you have not the slightest idea. Not only is she real, but she now lurks in this strange place, gathering power. Earth's Awakening wasn't a coincidence—she's one of the few beings who can drain Aether directly from a planet's core. When she returns home with Earth's newfound power... well, let's just say even our combined power might not be enough to defeat her anymore."

I only met one being who could directly manipulate a planet's Aether—the Demon Queen, I thought. If this Progenitor had similar abilities, she could indeed be dangerous. And, based on how Sergio used the power of a Sin, the Progenitor could very well be a powerful variation of a demon. But so what?

"Honestly? Not my problem." I shrugged. "If she gets in my way, I'll deal with her. Otherwise, I won't go hunting her down. I'm not some hero in shining armor—I'm just a guy who cares about protecting the people right in front of me. I won't go out of my way to save everyone."

"With great power comes great responsibility," Lucius intoned solemnly, raising his holy book.

"I'm pretty sure that's not from the Bible," I chuckled. "Unless Uncle Ben was secretly one of the apostles?"

Behind me, I heard Kusogaki whisper, "He's got a point," while Marcus and José nodded thoughtfully, clearly more familiar with comic books than scripture.

"For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required," Lucius corrected smoothly, though a flicker of annoyance crossed his perfect features. "The meaning remains the same."

"Of course, it's give and take," Lucius continued, his benevolent smile returning as if our brief discussion of comic book philosophy had never happened. Even as Mille's eyes flashed with barely contained disdain at my irreverence, he pressed on. "The scripture says we can be useful to each other. I believe you will encounter the Progenitor sooner or later, and we would be far stronger allies than enemies. I speak not only of slaying her but of completing our impossible Tutorials."

Well, I thought, that was obvious enough. Someone as strong as he is would naturally be put in similar circumstances as me, with an impossible Tutorial forced upon him.

"You may be powerful," he continued, "but you are just one person. Some goals require numbers. Right now, you want to help those under your protection, but you can't simply leave these people undefended. You'll have to take them with you, which will restrict you greatly."

His voice took on that same paternal tone he'd used when quoting scripture. "I offer to place them under our protection while you deal with saving the others. Our cooperation wouldn't end there. We will continue to exchange information and lend our power to each other to achieve our goals. I believe sooner or later you'll realize we're on the same side—the side of humanity."

Remember how I mentioned there's a way to keep my companions safe for a while? I thought as I studied Lucius's expectant face. Yeah, they won't like it, but it seems I don't have much choice. Better than leaving them with these zealots.

"So you want me to trust my people to someone who surrounded us in an obvious display of power, whose right hand just tried to kill one of those she's now supposed to guard?" I shook my head. "Listen, it seems you still misunderstand something. I'm not the hero you're looking for. I'm not on humanity's side. I'm on my own side. As for the safety of my companions..." I turned toward my group with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, guys. I'll explain later. Maybe even apologize. Just kidding about that last part."

Gravity Mana gathered in my core as I spoke, condensing into tiny spheres no bigger than half an inch. Five perfect marbles of concentrated power, each as precise as a surgeon's tool. Through their ears they went, quick as thought—no blood, no gore, just the silent passage of invisible force. Kusogaki was mid-sentence about something involving anime, Marcus had opened his mouth to ask a question, and José was scratching his head in confusion. Sergio had just tightened his grip on Alisa's hand, perhaps sensing something wrong in that final instant.

Then, like puppets with cut strings, they collapsed. No dramatic sprays of blood, no agonized screams—just five bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds, their brains liquefied with surgical precision. Even Sergio, for all his vampiric resilience, couldn't survive having his gray matter turned to a fine slurry. His enhanced healing meant nothing when there was nothing left to heal.

Five deaths in less than a second. Clean. Efficient. Almost elegant, if you could call murder elegant. The System flooded me with notifications, clearly unhappy with my tactics. I ignored them all.

"Listen," I said to the stunned Pope, whose perfect smile had finally cracked, "I'm not a hero. I'm just a murderer with extra steps. If you want us to cooperate, you'll need to try better than this." I stepped over the bodies of my companions. "You ask me to help you, but you do so without respect. You don't offer friendship; you don't even think to call me Daddy. Instead, you come while I'm in a hurry and ask me to commit murder—for free."

Yeah, I loved that one old movie; I really did.

"How dare you—" Mille surged forward, the power of her Virtues crackling around her.

Wrong move.

A wave of Gravity Mana crashed down, driving her to all fours. The concrete beneath her cracked under the pressure.

"I told you that if I wanted you to kneel, I could force you myself." I looked down at her trembling form before turning to her boss. "Now we can speak without distractions, right, Pope?"

I met Lucius's gaze with a provocative smile. The message was clear: he wasn't making the rules.

I was.