Surviving without God

— Weren’t you planning to just rest today?

Ryan tilted his head in confusion. Gunther had just pulled him out of the estate, dragging him away from the backyard where he’d been training until sweat soaked through his clothes.

— Man, I was just about to go eat.

— I’ll make sure you’re full without food.

— ...Huh?

Ryan’s brown eyes widened, then lit up with a strange gleam.

— You’re up to something interesting again.

— Just follow me.

— Always ready, Captain.

Gunther strode ahead briskly. Ryan followed with a light, springy gait. The road was calm.

At least, on the surface.

...Yet small irregularities kept occurring. The magical surveillance instruments installed along the street subtly shifted their angles. They weren’t tracking their assigned targets anymore — they were tracking Gunther and Ryan.

Uuumm—

Once again, the lens of a security device on a rooftop slowly rotated after them. Gunther nodded as if this were perfectly normal.

‘Once you realize it, you start noticing it immediately.’

It didn’t particularly bother him. The likely subject «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» behind this surveillance was the “assistant.” Gunther didn’t know when he would appear in person, but for now it felt more reliable than intrusive. Perhaps it was a form of protection — or a hint of cooperation.

— Can you at least tell me where we’re going?

Gunther surfaced from his thoughts.

— To the temple.

Ryan’s face twisted. That word did not inspire enthusiasm.

— ...The temple? What, you found religion?

— ......

— If that’s the case, count me out. Those services are boring as hell.

— It’s not that kind of temple.

— Huh? Then what kind?

Better to see once than hear a hundred times. Gunther silently quickened his pace. Soon they reached the “temple.” Ryan stared back and forth between his friend and the building.

— This... is the temple?

The structure looked nothing like a sanctuary. It resembled a massive administrative complex. A high domed ceiling. Neatly aligned entrances. Behind translucent glass walls, dozens of counters stood in rows. Beneath colorful banners at the entrance, a crowd bustled.

「Guide for Future Contractors — Meet Your God Today」

「Bridge Between God and Man — Reception and Ritual Hall for Contractors Only」

Gunther headed straight for one of the counters. Ryan followed with a half-dazed expression. A friendly registrar greeted them with a smile.

— Welcome. Are you contractors?

— No. We’re here to form a new contract.

— Ah, I see. Is there a specific deity you wish to request an audience with?

Instead of answering, Gunther took out the “Crystal of Superspeed.” A relic bestowed by the deity “She Who Flies Ahead of the Wind.” The registrar produced a palm-sized divinity-measuring orb. After verifying the item, he nodded.

— One of you possesses a sacred relic. And the other?

— Seeking a free contract.

— Understood. One Opening Ritual and one Summoning Ritual. That will be 300 gold.

Ryan’s jaw dropped. When Gunther pulled out a heavy pouch of gold coins, Ryan flailed his hands urgently.

— Hey, wait, wait a second!

After asking the registrar with his eyes to hold on, Ryan turned and whispered:

— W-what is all this? What are you planning?

— What do you mean what? We’ve got money. We spend it.

Ryan blinked several times, trying to process that.

— So... if you pay, you can contract a god? Is that even real? I thought gods chose people they liked.

— Half true. Half false.

— What?

— ...Payment doesn’t guarantee a successful contract.

Gunther gestured toward the inner corridor where the ritual halls were located. On benches sat people with hollow expressions. Most were mercenaries or adventurers.

— Ha... it’s over. I even spent the money I was supposed to send home.

— Fuck, I sold my gear too. Guess I’m done with adventuring.

— That was my last chance...

They looked like they didn’t even have the strength to stand. They just sighed and stared at the floor. Hard-earned money, gathered through sweat and blood in the city, had evaporated into nothing. The scene made it clear: a divine contract wasn’t granted with a snap of fingers.

Ryan swallowed.

— If it’s that much money down the drain, then why—

— Because spending that money gives you several chances to present yourself to multiple gods. You know how many mercenaries grind just to become contractors. The odds are microscopic, but...

Gunther nodded toward the ritual halls. At that moment, a young man burst out with a victorious shout — only to shrink under a barrage of furious glares.

— Sometimes you get results like that.

Ryan frowned for a long time.

— Damn. What a scheme. The only ones who win are the gods and the temples.

— Exactly. The god takes the offerings prepared by the temple. The temple takes profit disguised as “ritual fees.” The candidates walk away with empty pockets.

Ryan glanced around the noisy reception area. Bright slogans. Polite registrars. Hopeful faces. Once he saw the calculation behind it, his own expression darkened.

— And you want me to gamble on that tiny chance? That’s insane. Not everyone becomes a contractor.

— But Eddie did.

— Yeah, but... damn it, 150 gold doesn’t grow on trees. Even if I get a contract, that’s not the end of the problems.

He was right. Even with a contract, there was no guarantee the deity would be powerful or useful. The Opening Ritual attracted plenty of useless minor gods. That might be enough for green mercenaries — but not for Ryan.

Gunther answered calmly.

— You said you’re always ready.

— That’s not what I meant—

— Just trust me and go.

— ...What?

— Even if it fails, I won’t make you repay the money. But... — Gunther lowered his voice — pick a deity with epithets like “Colossal,” “Giant,” “Rock,” or “Mountain Ridge.”

— What the hell is that supposed to mean?

— Those are the types who won’t demand crippling offerings — and will grant useful abilities.

Knock knock—

The registrar tapped the desk awkwardly.

— Gentlemen...

Without waiting, Gunther handed over the pouch. Then he gave Ryan a light push forward.

— See you after.

— H-hey...?

The registrar rang a bell. Two guides immediately appeared and led them in opposite directions. Gunther waved lightly at Ryan, who kept looking back.

‘...It’ll be fine.’

Ryan possessed the rare trait “Descendant of Giants.” Until now it had remained dormant, so gods had shown no interest. But in his current state, deities of that profile would not ignore him. The probability of a favorable contract was extremely high. Giant-type gods were known for granting vanguard fighters specialized combat skills and powerful equipment.

‘It’ll help him clear his scenario later, too.’

Now it was time to forget about Ryan and focus on his own turn.

As he followed his guide, Gunther touched the “Crystal of Superspeed” inside his coat. With a relic in hand, dialogue was guaranteed. What followed would depend solely on his own skill.

[The Drug-Addicted Saint lets out a heavy sigh at the sight of the crystal]

[She mutters that if it were used as forging material, it could create an excellent Nezzi]

The corner of Gunther’s mouth lifted.

‘I’ll squeeze far more out of it.’

.

.

.

Gunther entered the ritual hall alone.

The Summoning Ritual was surprisingly simple. All he had to do was place the relic on the altar at the center of the room. Preparation complete.

From there, the temple took over. The “Indirect Summoning Ritual” — an attempt to establish a connection by tuning into the relic’s divine frequency. All expenses were covered by the temple. The participant might hear the god’s voice — or glimpse their form for a fleeting moment.

‘I wonder if Ryan’s shaking right now.’

Gunther smirked, imagining his friend’s face.

Unlike Gunther, who could communicate with gods in real time through “messages,” ordinary people might never brush against divinity in their entire lives. Rituals like this were beyond comprehension for them. There were even wealthy patrons willing to spend fortunes simply to speak to a god, with no expectation of a contract.

‘Of course, if the other side bothers to answer.’

And at that very moment—

Uuumm—

The “Crystal of Superspeed” began emitting a soft glow.

The deity responded.

As a pure, silent vibration slowly filled the room—

Shhhhaaa—

A light breeze swirled through the hall. Particles of light condensed at a single point. Gunther’s eyes gleamed beneath strands of hair blown aside.

‘Good. She’s manifesting.’

A far better sign than hearing only a voice. It meant she was favorably inclined.

About ten seconds later—

[Hm...]

A woman appeared at the center of the radiance.

A seductive figure in her early thirties. Snow-white garments flared around her like feathers. A sculpted chin. Pale lashes. Beneath them, sky-blue eyes holding calm yet profound power. Her gaze seemed to look down upon the world. A faint smile played on her lips. Nobility radiated from her — and subtle arrogance.

Gunther inwardly admired her.

‘...Exactly like the in-game model.’

Truly an Officer.

This was merely a fragment of an avatar, not her true form — yet the pressure alone was immense. Without the trait “Godslayer,” which increased resistance to divinity, he likely wouldn’t have been able to observe her so closely.

Soon, “She Who Flies Ahead of the Wind” spoke. Her voice was cool and clear, like wind sweeping across high mountains.

[It pleases me to see you. The human who shamed my old enemy.]

Gunther tilted his head slightly.

— Old enemy?

[...The Weaver of Despair. The spider that attempted to inhabit that Mother you slew. That wretch nearly set its filthy leg upon this land once more.]

— Ah. So you have history.

She lifted the tip of her nose slightly.

[Hm. A long-standing feud.]

[From when I could barely spread my wings.]

[When I was but a tiny bird in the forests, that vile spider hunted me.]

[Yet I did not bow beneath its persecution. I became one whose name is etched in the heavens.]

Her words were casual. But beneath them lingered fear she hadn’t erased. Though both were Officer rank, the Weaver of Despair stood one step above her. Even among gods, strength ruled. Becoming a god did not easily invert predator and prey.

Unaware that Gunther knew all this, she smiled down at him again.

[Now then, bound one. Why do you summon me? I believed I had shown sufficient mercy, yet you call me here — even using my gift.]

— That’s—

[Hm. You wish to form a contract.]

She continued without letting him speak.

[But unfortunately, I do not contract with just anyone. ...Hm?]

Her pupils narrowed.

[...Strange. There is no resonance.]

[To be such a cripple that no divine contact points can be felt...]

Her reaction was as if she’d stumbled upon a peculiar stone.

‘She noticed.’

Even before Karma awakened, he had met many gods. Some had shown curiosity. But the moment they realized a contract was impossible, they all reacted like this.

[“Black Dawn” recognizes you as useless dust and departs]

[“Walker Through Oblivion” forgets your existence]

[“Merciful Judge” decides there is no reason to protect you]

Moreover, “She Who Flies Ahead of the Wind” was infamous for being difficult to contract with. As a descendant of sacred beasts, she was proud. Her criteria were harsh. She even evaluated “attitude.” Specific rituals or interactions were required for success.

As expected, she began listing disqualifications.

[Even if a contract were possible, I would not form one.]

[How dare you stand before an Officer-ranked deity without kneeling — without even bowing your head.]

Her initial favor was fading.

— I see.

Gunther’s voice remained steady.

[...Your knees and neck remain stubborn.]

— You prefer subservient humans, it seems.

[Ha. With that attitude, not only divine grace — even preserving your life would be difficult.]

Her tone grew colder.

[In many respects, I begin to think my gift was too generous.]

Her gaze slid to the “Crystal of Superspeed.” The relic used as a medium usually remained with the summoner — but she seemed inclined to reclaim it.

‘...Petty.’

It was time.

The reason he’d been so confident when he first heard about the hierarchy evaluation.

As long as he had “this,” he was the one holding the advantage.

Gunther calmly raised his hand and met her sky-blue eyes directly.

Her brows twitched in anger.

[Insolent...]

— By the way... when did I say I wanted a contract with you?

Her laugh was sharp.

[...What?]

The anger in her gaze lasted less than a second.

Jing-jing-jing—

Tiling!

[You place “100” Karma on the scales.]

The goddess who had been lecturing him moments ago... fell silent.

The ringing of coins echoed.

She froze, staring at Gunther, mouth opening and closing soundlessly — like the small bird she once had been.

[Ka-ka-ka-Karma?!]

Gunther grinned broadly.

— That’s right, sweetheart.