Of course, since this sucker, or as he liked to say often 'Generous Benefactor', wanted the most extensive promotion possible, General Manager Louis Litt pulled out his ultimate plan from his bottom drawer—the One-Day Promotional Package.
This plan was vastly different from traditional promotional methods.
First, they would invite renowned artists from other worlds, since this one had none to speak of. In most worlds, the gods considered art to be a frivolous, useless pastime. After all, this era had no gods associated with 'happiness,' and the positive emotions were of little use to the current pantheon.
The more lenient gods turned a blind eye to these activities. But for more extreme Gods, such frivolity was a serious threat. To prevent their believers from wasting time on foolish pursuits of happiness, they treated these pastimes as enemies. In worlds dominated by such gods, anything resembling art was strictly forbidden.
Art leads to laziness, after all.
Have you stoked the furnace today, or did you spend the day painting?
Your work value hasn't even been tallied yet. There's still so much surplus value left—how could you have time to play?
The Gray World, while not to this extreme, was certainly no leisure paradise where everyone could kick back and relax. Thirty percent of its total profits came from the mining industry, an enterprise that ground down its workers. In such a profit-driven world, the development of the humane emotions was meager at best.
Therefore, they had to bring in artists from other worlds (think elementary school-level painters) to create promotional art. Naturally, the theme would center around the Sacrifice Church's values and, of course, the Sacrificer himself.
Hiring one or more of these renowned artists was the first step.
Next, Today's Print would mass-produce the artwork—enlarging or shrinking it as necessary. They would plaster posters on walls and display ads on steam carriages to create a mobile exhibition.
At the same time, they'd reserve the top spot on the front page of every newspaper for a lengthy article, exaggeratedly praising the virtues of the Sacrifice Church, written by professional yappers. These newspapers would be printed in bulk and sold at a bargain price, ensuring they were quickly sold out.
Of course, many of the lower-class folks couldn't read, but these illiterate masses were precisely the ones most likely to change their belief. After all, ignorance is bliss. Even if they couldn't understand the words, they could still comprehend the pictures.
At this point, things were still within the realm of traditional promotion.
But the third step took things to a whole new level.
The most expensive part of the One-Day Promotion was hiring a grand mage or a team of high-level wizards from another world.
These wizards weren't the kind who just tossed fireballs and conjured water sprays. Their magic was used to vivify daily items and life. One might call it magical craftsmanship—and this required a transmutation mage, a wizard from a specialized school of magic.
For example, they would enchant the printed materials, so that when people hold them, the images and text will come to life and speak.
This would turn regular flyers into self-narrating print materials.
Even the posters on walls and paintings on steam carriages would be enchanted. They could even make your 2d waifus temporarily come to life.
With this massive bombardment of living information, the result would be a substantial increase in public awareness.
Hiring such a team of transmutation wizards—and their magical craftsmanship—would cost an astronomical amount of money.
However, all the preparatory work had to be done several days in advance, so that by Sunday, crowds would flock to the church for the sermon.
As Today's Print staff worked to implement the plan, they confidently assured the Sacrifice Church's followers that on the day of their god's sermon, the church would be filled to brim.
General Manager Litt pulled out a slip of paper from his desk drawer, preparing the necessary magical materials for the trans-world mail array.
This array could only send simple messages and small items since the Gray World wasn't a place of magic. To gain the favor of magic, one had to prepare all sorts of rare and expensive materials.
A high-level mage, on the other hand, could easily cast inter-dimensional mail spells without needing such materials.
General Manager Litt had just begun typing on his mechanical typewriter when one of his employees interrupted him.
"Another church is requesting our promotional services?"
Litt frowned. He thought for a moment—none of the major churches in the Gray World had any promotion plans right now. "Which church?" he asked.
"The Church Of Fiction," the employee replied.
"What's that?" Litt looked puzzled.
The employee explained that this was a newly established church, seemingly founded by a God who had just arrived in this world and he appointed few local representatives to run it.
"Ah, so a new god is taking interest in our world. I'd be more than happy to meet with their representatives, if it was any other day that is. But you can see, I'm swamped. Sacrifice Church paid a lot of money."
"Their representative said he knows you... you made a deal with him last month." The employee's expression was strange, and Litt's face resonated same confusion as he heard it. When he heard the name, his hand trembled, nearly slamming into the typewriter.
"That guy? Didn't he take a death loan? How is he still alive?"
This was a shocking development. The God of Death never let anyone who took a death loan off the hook. Litt was speechless, but it wasn't worth overthinking. After all, the man now claimed to represent the God Of Fiction.
"So, he's found a new god to bless him, huh? Some people really do get lucky. Why don't I ever get that kind of luck? Here I am, struggling along with nothing but my family's company to keep me afloat."
Litt's tone was tinged with bitterness. After all, the guy had dodged death and now become a favored servant of another god? That kind of fortune was enough to make anyone envious. Being a god's favored servant wasn't the same as being a regular believer.
"All right, I'll meet him. Tell him to enjoy a coffee while he waits," Litt decided, but he added a word of caution for his staff to relay:
"Also, make sure he understands something upfront: while I'm happy to meet with him, Sacrifice Church has paid me a significant amount for this promotion. They're running a One-Day Promotion as well as a week-long Full-Spread Campaign."
"He should know that during the One-Day Promotion, every bit of space will be devoted to the Sacrifice Church. And during the Full-Spread, they'll take up the front pages of all major publications."
"So, if he's looking for promotional space for his Church Of Fiction, I can offer him the small, leftover corners of the print materials. If he's willing to accept that, the space is his."
"As for the promotional fees... since he's representing a new god, I'll give him a 20% discount to show my goodwill."
With that, Litt began typing furiously on his machine again.
Soon, the message would be printed out and sent via the array to another world—a world known as Falling Star World, where many powerful wizards resided.