Encouraged by Hiroshi's words, Ulu regained his spirits and opened the church door.

As usual, a crowd of hungry people had gathered outside, waiting eagerly. When the door opened, they swarmed in like zombies, though unlike zombies, they lacked the strength to move swiftly, staggering as if they could fall at any moment.

Seeing this, Ulu couldn’t help but frown, muttering under his breath, “A bunch of starving bums.” He stepped aside to let them rush in for their porridge.

Of course, Ulu hadn’t cooked the porridge. He had far too much to do in the past few days—killing, burying bodies, and cutting off fingers. He certainly didn’t have time to manage this charity food distribution.

The porridge was made by the faithful of the church, though it was not exactly "voluntary." Technically, they were “asked” to help, but they were not paid. Usually, it was the small local landowners, who followed the faith of Rhyo, who handled the task. They had their servants cook the porridge the night before and deliver it to the church in the morning to be distributed in the name of the Rhyo Church.

“Are these landowners so kind-hearted?” Hiroshi asked after hearing Ulu’s explanation. “They don’t ask for money?”

“What are they going to ask for?” Ulu said dismissively. “I’ve already sold the food the higher-ups sent down to them at a low price. They make a fortune, so what’s a little porridge in exchange? Are they going to complain?”

Hiroshi understood now.

After the disaster, the upper bishops of the Rhyo Church would distribute relief supplies to the lower levels. These supplies would end up at churches like Ulu’s, and Ulu would sell the supplies to the local landowners. The landowners, in turn, would supply the church with basic, processed food, like thin rice porridge.

It was easy to make in large quantities, though it barely filled anyone’s stomach, leaving one wondering if it was porridge or just water. But it was enough to pass the inspections; after all, the sight of countless buckets of the stuff gave the impression of abundance.

The whole system was a cynical cycle. It looked like the Rhyo Church was trying to help, but the lower levels were being exploited, and in the end, very few starving people were actually helped.

It seemed the Rhyo Church started with good intentions, but once they lost control over the lower churches, the situation had devolved into something like this.

However, from what Hiroshi knew of the Rhyo Church, and based on Lugi’s letter to the bishop, the higher-ups were likely aware of everything.

After all, this was a world of fantasy, where divine powers existed. There was no way the higher-ups of the various major churches didn’t have control over what happened at the lower levels.

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Seeing that Hiroshi had started asking questions about this, Ulu suddenly grew nervous. “Uh, Lord Visah'Su, do you… have any objections?”

Objections?

Of course, there were objections.

Though this famine was only background lore in the game, it was now a real disaster. As someone from Japan, seeing these starved and dying people crowding the church—he’d only ever seen such scenes in disaster movies. It was clear that the cause of this was not just natural disasters, but human-made ones as well. He couldn’t feel happy about it.

But, he couldn’t show his discontent. After all, he was Visah'Su now. He couldn’t let emotions like… sympathy slip out of character.

“No objections.” Hiroshi replied flatly. “Just find it a bit odd.”

“Odd?”

“Yes,” Hiroshi continued. “I’m too low down to see much. Lift me up a bit.”

Ulu blinked in confusion, then instinctively looked down at his left middle finger. Oh, no—he meant Lord Visah'Su.

“Lift you… up a bit?” Ulu hesitated. “How should I do that?”

“Are you really this dumb?” Hiroshi snapped. “Didn’t I tell you to lift me? Lift me! I’m repeating myself here. Got it now?”

Feeling Ulu’s anxiety rise, Hiroshi didn’t want to push him further, but he also couldn’t tolerate this delay. Ulu immediately raised his left hand.

“Is this good enough?”

“Lift higher. I still can’t see clearly.”

“Higher?” Ulu was at a loss. He almost said that he had already raised his hand as high as he could, but that would be unwise. After all, Hiroshi had already shown impatience.

Reluctantly, Ulu adjusted his posture, raising his hand higher, almost straightening it completely.

“Is this better?”

“Height’s fine, but why are you holding up so many fingers? You’re blocking my view.”

Ulu hurriedly lowered the other fingers and left only his middle finger upright.

Finally, Hiroshi’s view cleared. Though he could have used his own power to adjust the fingers, he didn’t want Ulu to panic, thinking that his body was out of control. Now, Ulu would believe that Hiroshi’s power was still contained in that middle finger.

Hiroshi wasn’t just messing with Ulu; he was observing the situation.

First, he noted the number of refugees inside the church. If he remembered correctly, there were half as many as the previous days.

This wasn’t because the people had suddenly stopped being hungry—it was because half of them couldn’t make it here today.

As for why…

Hiroshi shifted his gaze toward the outside of the church, but his view was still obstructed by the walls.

“Higher,” Hiroshi ordered.

Higher? Ulu was in a dilemma. He was sure he’d already raised his hand as high as possible, but he couldn’t say that aloud. He would look incompetent.

After a moment, Hiroshi’s field of vision expanded significantly.

Now he could see outside.

As he suspected, several knights of the Rhyo Church were patrolling the streets. They were checking everyone who passed by, pushing suspicious individuals against the wall.

The Rhyo Church’s response was impressively swift.

Clearly, after discovering Lugi and Roger’s bodies the previous night, the knight commander had immediately contacted the higher-ups, and by morning, reinforcements had arrived in the form of knights and even armed servants of the landowners.

They seemed to think Hiroshi was still in this town and weren’t planning on letting him leave.

But that was fine. This was all part of Hiroshi’s plan. He wasn’t ready for the main event yet. He wanted to escalate things and attract the bishop’s attention. After all, his eyes were still watching.

Just as Hiroshi was deep in thought, Ulu, still holding him up, nervously spoke, “Lord Visah'Su, though I don’t want to disturb you at such a time… I can’t help but feel that standing here on the table with my middle finger raised at all the refugees is… a bit too obvious?”