Chapter Seven: God and the Church

"Could my luck really be that bad?"

As Shade pondered his recent chance encounter with Dr. Schneider, the rumbling of his stomach pulled him back to reality. Right now, the commission was what mattered most.

Less than twelve hours after his arrival in this world, Shade was already forced to learn how to endure hunger. Had he transmigrated into a forest, he might have had a chance to hunt; had he landed in a chaotic era, he might have found a way to scavenge for food. Yet, in this orderly, sprawling metropolis, one had to follow the rules to fill their belly. Shade stood before the newspaper office, watching the "upper-class" elite drift in and out of the nearby club, hoping the pangs of hunger would subside. Fortunately, he only had to stand in the fog and wait; if he had been required to pursue someone, he would have been truly helpless.

"I’ve never heard of a transmigrator starving to death."

He wanted to lament his own incompetence, but the situation was beyond his control. He could only hope the lady would appear soon so he could submit his report to his employer.

While he stood there lost in thought, someone handed him a flyer, which he accepted instinctively. Looking up, he saw a smiling, round-faced missionary in white liturgical robes, a church emblem pinned to his left breast and a black pendant hanging from his neck, distributing papers to the crowd.

Shade glanced down. The flyer belonged to the Church of War and Peace. While rummaging through the house earlier, he had familiarized himself with the religious landscape of this world and knew this was one of the Orthodox Churches.

In the bygone eras of this world, there were many stories of gods, but in the current age, only five were officially recognized by the government and the public. Consequently, the mainstream faith of the world consisted of these five Orthodox Deities:

The Merciful Father, also known as the God of War and Peace, whose holy emblem is a white dove with light gray wingtips;
Mr. Dawn, also known as the God of Light and Shadow, whose holy emblem is a circle with an opening at the top, colored brass;
The Old Man with the Lantern, also known as the God of the Sun and the Earth, whose holy emblem is a sun pattern, golden-yellow;
The Lady of Creation, also known as the Goddess of Creation and Destruction, whose holy emblem is a wrench, silver;
The Lord of All Things, also known as the God of Nature and Malice, whose holy emblem is two overlapping leaves, one withered yellow and one green. The old man who had been transporting the corpse earlier was a member of the Church of Nature.

"Hmm? Why are the divine domains preached by these gods all relative concepts?"

As this thought crossed his mind, Shade suddenly found himself contemplating the nature of this world. Yet, the vague, indefinable sensation could not be properly expressed. In the haze, he seemed to touch upon some kind of power, and a whisper echoed in his ears:

[You have sensed a 'Miracle.']

This was one of the four fundamental elements: Miracle. So far, Shade had encountered all of them except for [Profanity]. According to the information conveyed by the voice in his mind, it seemed that only by touching upon all four elements could one gain the qualifications to reach for the mysterious and push open the door to the extraordinary.

"It seems easier than I thought. I've encountered three-quarters of them in just half a day."

At that, the woman’s laughter echoed in his head again; it was truly enchanting.

The five Orthodox Churches were not hostile toward one another; their relationships were, at the very least, much better than those between human kingdoms. The strength of each church varied by region, but in the northern pearl of Tobesk, all five had cathedrals, maintaining a state of relatively "friendly" competition.

Shade pondered these matters while looking at the printed material in his hand, marveling that he wouldn't need to "invent" the printing press. Although the print quality wasn't high, at least...

His eyes widened as he spotted crucial information. Most of the flyer introduced the doctrines of the Merciful Father and welcomed believers and pagans alike to the cathedral for weekly lectures and sermons. Most importantly, at the bottom of the page, it stated that those holding the flyer could line up at the cathedral entrance at 5:30 PM on weekends to receive free relief food. It was even noted in fine print that no matter how long the line was, as long as one appeared before six o'clock, they were guaranteed a number tag and, consequently, a meal.

Even if accepting relief food was humiliating, it at least assured Shade that he wouldn't starve to death today. He rubbed his nose, memorized the address of the Church of War and Peace, and quite solemnly folded the ink-heavy flyer, tucking it into Mr. Hamilton's notebook.

He whispered a quiet word of thanks to the deity in his heart. Though the hunger had not yet faded, his spirits were much improved.

"My luck isn't actually that bad."

Shade thought to himself, knowing that once the lady under surveillance, Madam Lasoya, entered the club, she wouldn't emerge for at least an hour or two. He wondered if he might strike up a conversation with the missionary.

Faith in this world was universal; atheists were a minority among minorities. Of course, as long as one didn't openly shout that they didn't believe in the gods, it wouldn't be an issue, but Shade intended to learn more about these so-called Orthodox Deities. In a world where faith existed, being completely ignorant of such things was far more dangerous.

He was still considering how to approach the man, but the missionary had already moved on. He felt a pang of regret but didn't give chase, choosing instead to continue his vigil. After all, once he found his footing, he would have plenty of time to understand everything.

There were many others standing at the newspaper office entrance just like him—mostly reporters waiting for fresh news, and a few idlers doing odd jobs for the paper. It was Saturday, and even with the foggy weather, Valente Pedestrian Street—a main artery—was bustling, so his presence didn't seem out of place.

Although it was called a "pedestrian street," carriages were not prohibited. Shade observed the club while eyeing the passing pedestrians and carriages, believing this would help him integrate better.

The air was filled with a charred scent; this was, of course, the smog. However, it wasn't particularly heavy, merely a mist lingering in the air that grew thicker as the sun shifted from overhead toward the west.

Shade worried about his physical condition. As his mind wandered, he saw another carriage pull up to the club entrance. He immediately looked up—it was Mr. Lawrence, the husband of his employer.

"This is interesting. An unexpected gain."

He whispered to himself, noted the time, and recorded the information in his notebook.

Madam Lawrence, his employer, was generous with her money. If he could catch her husband rendezvousing with his mistress at the club on the very day he submitted his report, he might even earn a bonus.

"But it’s also possible the angry woman will take her frustrations out on me," Shade mused, hoping to see Madam Lasoya at the club entrance to greet Mr. Lawrence. Unfortunately, Mr. Lawrence walked into the club alone.

Even from a street away, Shade could see the smile and excitement on Mr. Lawrence's face. He certainly wasn't coming to the club to play cards or drink tea.

"Good luck to you."

He thought to himself, shaking his head as he recorded the details of Mr. Lawrence's attire to prove the authenticity of his report.