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Chapter 7 - The Church of Fiction

A god on the level of a supreme deity exploiting his own divine loopholes, extracting Death Value from game characters—this was truly something unexpected for Ashur.

A giant, physical question mark appeared above his head.

'Was this Death Value calculated based on how long the players survived, the number of levels they cleared, or how many enemies they killed? What is the particular basis?'

"If game characters can generate Death Value for the God of Death, does this mean he's trying to harvest value from me?"

The more people played, the more times the game characters would die.

This generated a sort of void value—deaths without a physical presence, infinitely resetting. 'Wouldn't that cause an inflation of value?'

'Could it be because both are tied to the concept of death at a fundamental level?'

At this point, Ashur began to realize just how extraordinary the Enlightenment Runes were, pushing him into a state of shock and awe.

'The ability to create value from characters... hmm...'

Characters that don't truly exist in the real world usually can't generate actual information value, as such value typically comes from real living beings. That is to say, only entities with life activities could produce this kind of information and activity value.

'But, let's assume, just for a second, what if the world created by the Enlightenment Rune wasn't just a simple, fictional space meant for playing games, but a world where the characters have some form of real existence?'

'And if the amount of information became so vast that it could expand across the universe, would that mean I can create countless real beings?'

Ashur fell into deeper contemplation.

He was still in the beginner level of understanding and developing the Enlightenment Runes. The next step would be to thoroughly research the higher-level scripts within these runes.

But these matters could wait. For now, the priority was to follow the original plan of rolling out more arcade machines and establishing a new church.

His time was running out; he needed to rebuild his church quickly, as the values he reaped weren't enough to sustain him f even for a week.

Without delay, Ashur sent a divine message to the vampire girl, Maya.

Not long after, in the tavern, Maya loudly announced to everyone, drawing all eyes toward her as she prepared to make a big statement.

"YOSH.... everyone, attention here. You'all might not believe this, but that machine... i-it came from a God. A few days ago, I received a divine oracle from him."

"I am now a chosen one of a god."

She spoke to the tavern's patrons, her hands supporting her chin, elbows resting on the table, her long, lake-blue hair cascading like a waterfall.

Maya revealed the origin of the arcade machine. Ever since dawn that day, the machine had mysteriously vanished, leaving one player, who had been deeply engrossed in the game, paralyzed in disbelief.

"Where's the arcade machine?"

"What the hell? I still had twenty game coins from my one silver coin, and I was about to beat the next level."

It had just disappeared.

Many quickly realized, that must have been some kind of divine relic. Though they had never encountered such a strange one before. As the reality set in, their faces went pale.

They had used a god's relic. That meant they owed a corresponding debt of value. Yet, all they had done was play with the machine, not exactly creating any value.

If they were being honest, sure, they had exchanged coins for game tokens—but did that count as value?

For days, these players lived in constant fear, worried that some unknown god would demand repayment, or worse, cut their lifespan in half as punishment. But instead, they received a good news? It was evidently shady.

"Maya, are you serious? That thing—called an arcade machine—was put there by a god for our entertainment?"

The patrons couldn't believe it.

Where in the world would you find a god who just wants to serve the people without asking for anything in return?

All gods are usually looking for ways to squeeze out every ounce of value from mortals. How could there be a god solely focused on bringing joy to the world?

The gods of this era seemed incapable of resonating with positive emotions like joy. As a result, no gods embodying pure positive values had been born. The only ones left were neutral or negative-aligned gods.

If you were to use the alignment grid to explain it, the boxes for Lawful Good, Neutral Good, and Lawful Neutral were missing.

"You're wrong," Maya clarified, "The God of Fiction also seeks value. But the difference is that the act of you playing the game is generating value for him. He draws his value from your emotions, so there's no need for you to pay any extra price."

Maya confirmed the new god's requirements once again.

There were only three:

1. Forget about your bad luck, and play more games.

2. Forget about your misfortunes, and play more games.

3. Forget about your worries, and play more games.

"He says he's a straightforward god, and he's not interested in dull preachings. If you find the games fun, he'll hold a release event before the next one comes out."

"I don't really understand what a 'release event' is, but that's what the divine message said. It's his way of formally introducing himself to this world."

"And from now on, our tavern will officially be a church."

Maya dropped another bombshell. The tavern would now serve as the God's place of descent, making it an official church.

However, just as she was boasting about her future role as the first vampire High Priestess, a group of robed cultists in red appeared at the tavern's entrance. They were followers of the Church of Sacrifice, handing out flyers.

Due to the unreasonable demands of certain gods, the factory shifts operated around the clock. Some species preferred daylight, while others favored the night. Though the sky of the Gray Lands remained perpetually shrouded in thick smog, people's biological clocks kept ticking.

As a result, more patrons had unknowingly filled the tavern.

The Sacrifice cultists had chosen this time to distribute their flyers.

Like many gods aligned with death, their focus was on the lower and middle classes, not the elite. After all, those living comfortably wouldn't make random wishes, even if they were occasionally tricked by other evil gods. The sheer numbers of the downtrodden far exceeded that of the wealthy.

For ages, it had always been the common folk, caught in a cycle of hope and despair, who constantly struggled with wishes that could never be fulfilled.

"A sermon from the Church of Sacrifice?"

"This Sunday?"

The tavern patrons glanced at the flyers. Maya scowled as she heard the murmurs spreading through the room. She jumped onto the largest table, dramatically flipping her vampire cloak and raising her arms:

"Everyone, attention again please. I've got an announcement to make."

"This Sunday, our church will unveil a batch of new arcade machines."

"We'll be selecting one hundred players to win a free barrel of our tavern's best beer. And I'll be covering the cost of all arcade games for that day."

Chosen by a god, finally becoming the head of a church—this was a great thing, and it had barely been a few minutes before she could enjoy it, the Church of Sacrifice dared to hand out flyers about their lecture this Sunday?

In her tavern?

That was crossing a line.

The cultists handing out the flyers looked confused.

"Church? Isn't this just a tavern?"