Rise of the OtherGod Apostle: Not a Cult Leader, but a Serf?!

#173Reader Mode

Trigger Warning: Contains scenes of violence that may be disturbing to sensitive readers.

#173

Pandomonium’s expression shifted, the placid calm draining away to reveal cold irritation beneath. My hands shot up to my throat, clawing at nothing while something invisible squeezed my neck.

“I told you not to leave.”

Fucking idiot.

All that power, and he’d left himself completely defenseless while playing Conclude. What a complete moron.

“Keep this up, and I’ll string you up from the ceiling like cured meat.”

“…Do whatever you want.”

I couldn’t let him tie me up, not if I wanted any shot at getting the item. Besides, he had to be bluffing. He wouldn’t actually tie me down.

With a small, disappointed sigh, the crushing feeling around my throat disappeared. Pandomonium sat back down and slowly closed his eyes, done watching me. It was like watching a video game guard go back to walking the same path over and over.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This was like the world’s most messed up escape room, and it felt like the only way out was whatever the Distorted One was dangling in front of me.

What if I just wait? Do nothing?

Of course. That was probably one of the Distorted One’s predetermined choices too. Looking at how completely Pandomonium thought this building was his home, waiting wouldn’t do anything. For all I knew, he couldn’t even tell time was passing anymore.

And if I took too long, the gift might disappear completely. You know that feeling when you find a winning lottery ticket, then realize it expired yesterday? What if that letter had been sitting on my desk for a week, and I’d just been too paranoid to open it?

That’s its game. That’s exactly what the Distorted One does.

Who gets upset losing a game they know is rigged? You don’t even play. If someone forces you to play, you quit right away. No investment, no pain.

But that’s not what it wants. The Distorted One needs you to think you can actually win.

It always throws in something real, an actual chance. That way, when everything falls apart, you’re not just dealing with failure. You’re stuck thinking forever: If only I’d done something different. If only I’d been faster. Smarter.

I should have just stayed out of it. I already knew the only way to beat the Distorted One. I should have done what the crazy bastard in the chair next to me was doing—covered my ears, ignored everything, and watched it all fall apart without caring.

Even if Pandomonium died right here in front of me, I should just shrug and think, “He’s not the guy I knew anyway. Who cares?”

…Damn it. Like I could ever do that.

You know what they tell a fly caught in a spider’s web? Stay perfectly still. Don’t move, because that’s what gets the spider’s attention. But what’s the point? Staying still just means you die slower, dried up and stuck to the web. I’ll be damned if I’m going to starve some predator. If I’m going to die anyway, I’ll go down swinging, betting on that tiny chance the web might actually break.

Even if my struggling is exactly what the spider wants.

Fuck…

Knowing I was walking into a trap on purpose felt like swallowing glass. It made me so sick that for a second, I actually thought about joining Nyapoleon just to screw over the Distorted One.

I stomped on the open books on purpose as I moved deeper between the shelves. The pages flickered with whiny little messages—Ouchie! and You’re so mean!—but I ignored them. Let them whine.

And there it was. That same sickly-sweet floral scent from earlier, now stronger, tugging me forward. The shelves didn’t open like shelves. They parted like curtains, revealing something impossible.

A garden.

Right in the middle of the library, a sea of blood-red flowers swayed gently. I don’t know much about plants, but even I recognized these.

Poppies.

And in the center, like a bruise blooming on red skin, stood a single purple flower.

Beneath it… of course.

I’d been half-expecting this ever since Athanasuki messaged me, saying he’d be out of reach for a while. For him, killing himself was always a good escape plan. He once called it a “quick save point” until the starry sky reopened and let him respawn.

Still, I expected something messier.

The skeleton lying among the flowers was too clean, too polished. Bright white bones, arranged just so, like a centerpiece in a creepy art show. Bodies don’t decompose this fast, which meant either the bones were fake, or this was a system-approved ‘death.’ My money was on the second.

The Distorted One really loves being dramatic.

Something glinted inside the ribcage. A scroll, carefully rolled and tucked between the bones. Frowning, I reached between the bones and grabbed it.

[My Dearest Fabio! If you’re holding this, I must be dead!

What a pity you missed the chance to tear my heart from my chest with your own hands.

Still, a letter is a decent consolation prize, isn’t it?]

This is starting to feel like a low-budget, edgy escape room now.

[You probably recognize the flowers. Poppies.

I remember you saying how much it hurt when you lost your arm. How the pain was unbearable without a Blessing to numb it.

My poor, precious Fabio…

My power as Floren can’t produce real seeds, but I can make artificial fruit.

Soon, these poppies will yield plump, juicy capsules. Think of them as my gift to you.

They’re ten times stronger than regular poppies. Should help with the pain, right?]

That’s literally opium.

No wait. Ten times stronger? That wasn’t opium, that was basically heroin. One dose and your life is over.

[Ah, just imagining it… flowers nourished by my own flesh and blood becoming part of you…

Being inside you… It must be true bliss.

I’m so happy I became Reyes Floren.]

Nope. Absolutely not. This whole garden needs to burn.

I already had a gut feeling that touching one of those fruit pods would ruin me for life. Now I was certain.

Worse, what if he meant it literally? If these were grown from his “flesh and blood,” then eating one might turn me into one of his servants.

If Callister hadn’t warned me ahead of time, I’d be completely screwed.

[But among these flowers, one is special.

That is the true gift I’ve left for you, Fabio!

I’m trusting you to look after my units while I’m away!

Especially Orochi! Orochi needs lots of love, or it gets terribly lonely.]

My gaze locked onto the lone purple poppy. It had bloomed right through the skull’s empty eye socket like some kind of grotesque crown. Reyes once told me his purple eye was a blessing from the Distorted One, the source of his power…

Then this flower… could it be the relic?

I hesitated, just for a second, then reached out and yanked the stem. It came off clean.

So this was it. The “FabiosRedHeartRedHeart” item House Lizard mentioned. The supposed key to reversing the distortion on Pandomonium.

But could I trust it?

At that moment, the words on the letter shimmered and changed.

[You took it! You accepted my gift! I’m so, so happy!]

Shit. Now what?

[P.S. I wrote this ahead of time, using the power of Records!

In fact, I wrote hundreds of little notes. Letters to you, diary entries about you… it’s all in here.

Every time you open it, you’ll get a new, random one! A little piece of me to keep you company.

So don’t forget me while I’m taking my nap, okay? Promise!

Cross your heart. And if you break it, you have to swallow a thousand needles!]

I tightened my grip on the parchment.

This needs to burn too. Immediately.

Then the text changed again.

[If Pandomonium brought you here, and not my scheduled message, then no matter what happens, you absolutely, positively must not undo the distortion I put on him!

I’m telling you this for your own good, Fabio. You’ll regret it. Seriously.

Don’t do something you’ll wish you could take back.

You’re really, really important to me.]

…Why?

But the letter offered no explanation. Just that desperate, frantic warning.

I rolled the parchment up and unrolled it again, hoping for a clue. Instead, it had already changed.

[Diary Entry #187: Today, I stole Fabio’s preserved arm from the Research Director and used it as a pillow. He was so warm and comforting, even without his body attached… ♡]

…Wow.

That was a disturbing image I definitely didn’t need rattling around in my head.

No matter how many times I unrolled and re-rolled the parchment, the original warning never came back. Just more entries—pointless, obsessive, and completely unhelpful.

I stood there for a while, lost in thought, the purple poppy still clenched in my hand.

Don’t remove the distortion?

Reyes had a point.

Leaving Pandomonium like this would be easy. All it would take was casting a new, simpler harmless distortion over him. Like convincing him he was a janitor, doomed to clean his study for all eternity. I could walk right past him. He wouldn’t even notice.

Strategically, it made sense. Keeping a powerful player like Pandomonium locked down would prevent future chaos. The moment he broke free, he wouldn’t be an ally.

He’d be a threat. Another obstacle standing between me and restoring the Order.

I felt a pang of regret.

But not for the reason Reyes probably hoped.

I should’ve made him raid the Cathedral’s treasury while I had the chance!

So the answer was obvious. Until this whole mess was over, the distortion had to stay. Trying to reason with a man who couldn’t even hear me was a waste of breath—

“I agree. That is the correct decision.”

“Fuck!” I whipped around. House Lizard was standing there, wearing that same thin, unreadable smile.

You’re still here?

“Yes. Because my purpose is to assist you.”

“…Shouldn’t you disappear the moment I stop needing you?”

“Do you wish for me to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Understood,” he said without a hint of offense. “I will wait in the area outside the System’s jurisdiction. If you require my counsel again, you may find me beneath the 24th basement level.”

With a polite nod, he turned and calmly walked off between the shelves.

…Seriously? He’ll leave that easily?

I watched him go, then crept toward the stairs, just to test it and see if the upward path still looped downward. The moment I crossed the threshold, an invisible noose snapped tight around my throat.

“Shit!”

“Didn’t I tell you not to leave?” Pandomonium’s voice came from his chair, flat and annoyed.

The leash tightened. I choked and stumbled, cursing under my breath as I was forced back into place.

I glared at him, but returned to my designated spot without a word.

“Keep it up and I’ll hang you from the ceiling. Like smoked meat.”

“Yeah, real funny.”

Getting rid of this rope would be simple. Just one distortion and I’d be free. But something about that felt wrong.

No. That’s exactly what it wants.

The Distorted One’s games always worked the same way. The obvious solution. The path of least resistance. The door marked EXIT in glowing letters.

Every single one led straight to hell.

If I left Pandomonium trapped in this distortion, it’d come back to bite me. Hard. There had to be some kind of self-destruct mechanism built into it, waiting for the perfect moment to detonate. When I could least afford it. When it would hurt the most.

Plus, the letter had warned me against undoing it. Reyes, that manipulative bastard, practically begging me to leave it alone. But when had doing what Reyes wanted ever worked out for me? If anything, that was reason enough to do the exact opposite.

But there was more to it than that. Even if we didn’t see eye to eye, did I really have the right to keep him trapped? To force him to live in some twisted version of reality just because I was mad at him?

Ah, to hell with it.

A crazy idea started forming in my head. What if we just robbed the Cathedral’s treasury together?

Look, my fate was already sealed. The second I turned Callister into my servant, I’d crossed a line I couldn’t uncross. There wasn’t going to be any riding off into the sunset for ending me. No quiet retirement to some distant shore. I had exactly two options left:

Kill Pandomonium and crawl under Roklem’s protection like a beaten dog.

Or forge an alliance with the devil I knew and flip the board entirely.

And Athanas?

No. Better to cut that tie now than get dragged under when he finally drowned. The “Savior of Order” was still too soft and naïve. He still thought you could save a heretic’s soul by refusing to let go of his hand.

So, the plan was simple.

Make Pandomonium regain his senses. Then hitch my wagon to the God of War’s chariot, even if that chariot looked more like a shopping cart with three wheels and a drunk toddler at the helm.

Still. I’d take childish and stupid over calculating and sadistic any day of the week.

So the God of War had a hard-on for duels? Perfect. I’d build him a colosseum. Let his chosen beat each other senseless in controlled environments. Hell, it might actually save lives—no collateral damage, just two idiots pounding each other until one dropped.

“Pandomonium.”

His head swiveled toward me. The purple flower pulsed between my fingers like a second heartbeat.

Then it happened.

Knowledge flooded my nervous system—not a thought, but pure instinct. Like my body remembering how to breathe after nearly drowning. I didn’t need instructions. I just knew.

Reach out.

Find the tether.

Cut.

The sensation was visceral and wrong, like slicing through spider silk that shouldn’t exist. Invisible threads that my fingers could somehow grasp. A lie made real that I could touch, could sever, could—

Snap.

“…Hyung?”

Shit.

White-hot pain seared across my neck—a brand scorching flesh. I jerked back, hand flying to my throat.

My fingers found the source.

The Saint’s holy relic. Burning like a live coal against my skin.

It’s not just protection. It’s a goddamn collar.

All this time, I’d thought it was divine insurance—a shield against possession, curses, the usual supernatural garbage. But no. It was a leash, designed to strangle and burn anything that strayed from Order’s narrow path.

And I’d never noticed. Never even suspected.

Because you can’t miss powers you’ve never had.

My hands trembled as I worked the clasp. Each movement sent fresh waves of pain shooting down my spine. The metal came away reluctantly, like it had fused with my flesh. I wrapped it in my handkerchief—careful, reverent, like handling a venomous snake—and set it on the floor.

Even gone, phantom fire crawled across my skin. Needles dancing on raw nerves.

This is unbelievably reckless.

I knew the risk. Pandomonium could crush my windpipe like a paper cup. With my pathetic durability stat of 25, I might as well be made of chalk. One wrong move, one flicker of suspicion when the distortion lifted—

Fuck it.

If he killed me here, I’d just throw my lot in with Nyapoleon.

If Order was this corrupt, if everyone around me had already lost their minds, then maybe Mother Aelusia had the right idea after all. You survive by backing the winning horse. And I was so tired—bone-deep, soul-crushing tired—of pretending otherwise.

“Pandomonium.”

His head snapped up. Empty expression, but his eyes locked onto mine. Actually seeing me.

So I can even disable that selective hearing. Huh.

Made sense, I guess. It wasn’t that different from a distortion trait, just another flavor of it. With one final push, I tore the last threads away.

“Snap out of it.”

“Huh?”

“This isn’t your house.”

Pandomonium blinked—once, twice. His gaze crawled over me, then swept the room like a drowning man seeing shore. The garden of impossible shelves. The flowers that shouldn’t exist. Reality clicking back into place behind his eyes.

He rose from the chair. Slow. Uncertain. Testing his limbs.

“Where…” His voice dropped to a growl. “Where the hell am I?”

“Main Building’s basement, genius.”

Our eyes met. Something flickered there—recognition fighting through fog.

“Hyung?”

“In the flesh.”

“What the fuck is happening?” He pressed palms against his temples, face twisting.

I laid it out cold. No sugar coating, no dramatics. Just facts delivered in a tired voice.

When I finished, he just stared. “…So you removed the distortion? From me?”

“Gold star for you.”

“Because you need me to rescue the Heretic Slayer?”

Still fixated on Athanas?

If I asked him to “rescue” Athanas, he’d probably “accidentally” shove the guy off a cliff on the way down.

“I never expected anything like that from you,” I said honestly.

“Then why?”

I exhaled, and it felt like I was breathing out the last shreds of my patience.

“You’re seriously asking why? I just dragged your dumbass out of a mental prison. Saved your life. And now you want a full-blown explanation of my motives? Unbelievable.”

“But what if I really did kidnap you? What if my plan all along was to snatch you and run?”

“At least you’d have taken me with you. Beats being left behind to die.”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that even when your scrambled little brain was warped by distortion, you were still trying to protect me.” The words felt bitter on my tongue. “In your own messed-up way.”

There it was. The ugly truth.

Beneath all the madness and violence, he still saw me as human… someone worth saving. Maybe it was the last flicker of conscience he had left, but it was real.

“In this insane world, you might be the only person I can even halfway trust, Pandomonium.”

“Shit.”

“What? Why are you—”

“Sukidesu.” The name hissed between his teeth like venom. “You manipulative bastard.”

The air in the room shifted.

Gone was the confusion. His gaze turned sharp, icy even.

What the hell?

Sure, anyone might snap after being emotionally baited. But why was I the one getting punished for it?

“I’m really going to fucking kill you this time.”

“He’s already dea—AAAGH! AAGH!”

Pandomonium’s hand shot out faster than thought. Fingers twisted in my hair, yanking me up like I weighed nothing. My scalp screamed as roots threatened to tear free.

“AAAAGH! You fucking psycho! What the hell are you doing?! Let go!”

My feet kicked uselessly in the air. Every movement sent fresh bolts of lightning through my skull. His grip only tightened—I could feel individual hairs tearing free.

“I WARNED YOU!” he roared, voice shaking the walls. “I told you what would happen if you pulled another fucking prank! You think my life is your personal comedy show? Huh?! You sick little shit!”

“Listen to me! I’m not—”

“Shut. Up.”

CRACK!

The world exploded. My head hit stone. White flashed behind my eyes. The sentence died in my throat as he slammed my skull into the wall like a hammer driving a nail.

Again.

CRACK!

Again.

CRACK!

Each impact shattered my thoughts like glass. Blood filled my mouth.

Why?

The distortion was gone.

Why is he—

Does he think I’m Reyes?

No. He knows. He has to know. If I could just—one second—just let me—

He stopped.

I hung from his fist like meat on a hook. Blood streamed down my neck, soaking my collar. The room spun in slow, nauseating circles.

Then his hand shifted, almost gentle. Cradling my skull like it was a football.

“Right.” His voice dropped to something worse than rage. Something cold. “Killing you is pointless. You’ll just respawn at your altar. Good as new.”

I tried to speak. Only red bubbles answered.

His fingers began to squeeze.

A sound echoed in my head like ice cracking over deep water. My teeth throbbed. My vision pulsed. Something deep inside me was beginning to break.

“AAAAAGH! AAAH! AAAGH!”

“Maybe I’ll take your eyes instead,” he murmured. His thumb brushed my cheekbone. “Can’t enjoy the prank if you can’t see it. Can’t play your games blind, can you?”

No no no please stop fuck—

The letter’s warning came back to me:

You’ll definitely regret it.

This. This was the regret.

Not some vague emotional fallout. Not a moral lesson.

It was never about my disappointment.

It was about creating his.

His red-stained thumb pressed into my eye socket. The pressure built. Built. Built.

Above me, his face had become something inhuman. Pure hatred molded into flesh. A stranger wearing Pandomonium’s skin.

And that—

That was the last thing I saw.