This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

I really am one unlucky bastard.
Whenever happiness seems to approach, it slips away just as quickly.

Whenever things start to look up, they immediately take a turn for the worse.
That’s how my life has always been.
So now, I don’t even have the energy to get angry anymore.

I just... resign myself to it.
When the goddess told me she was going to cast me into hell,
When she said she would destroy both my soul and the power within me,
The first thought that crossed my mind was—So, it’s finally come.
Yeah.

What, did I think I was some kind of isekai harem king?
I have no talent. I’m slow, dumb, always getting the short end of the stick because I don’t understand how the world works.
What kind of happy ending would someone like me ever get?
And when I think about what the previous owner of this power inside me did with it…

Maybe disappearing would be better.
For this world.
For Erfa.

For Iomene.
For Almene.
Wouldn’t that be the best option?

It was a short-lived harem king experience.
But honestly, I’m satisfied with just that.
When would someone like me ever get the luxury of living with three women again?

A few days of happiness—that’s more than enough.
“Hurry up and destroy my soul before I change my mind!!”
But still, it pisses me off.
What kind of bullshit is this, giving me something and then taking it away?

Things were finally starting to look up, so why—why now, all of a sudden...
Without realizing it, tears welled up in my eyes.
I sobbed uncontrollably as I begged her to destroy my soul.

Destroy my soul?
I’m not scared.
Sure, if I belonged to this world, maybe I’d be afraid.

But for me? Having my soul destroyed?
That’s just a one-way ticket back to Korea.
So this is the right choice.

Rather than let my power make everyone miserable, it’s better if I take all the misery upon myself.
Iomene and Almene.
Erfa.

They’ve all suffered enough.
I don’t want my power to devour faith and go berserk, turning this world into the kind of nightmare I saw before.
So let’s just go back to Korea.

My twenty years in this other world—short or long, depending on how you look at it—
End in this utterly meaningless, dull-ass finale.
It’s unfair, it pisses me off, but this is the best option.
“Now! Do it now! Destroy me right now!!”

I was crying my eyes out, screaming at her.
But the goddess didn’t answer for a long time.
What?

Didn’t you say you were going to throw me into hell? That you were going to obliterate both my soul and my power?
Then do it.
[I cannot do that right now, Amayel.]

Hearing those words, my jaw dropped in disbelief.
“You’re telling me I have to live the rest of my life in fear, not knowing when I’ll be dragged into hell?! That’s too cruel!! Wouldn’t it be better for you to just deal with me now?! So just do it!!”
At my outburst, the goddess let out a deep sigh.

[I am injured, Amayel.]
“…What?”
[Three hundred years ago, as you just saw, Heaven, Hell, and the Abyssal Evil God waged a celestial war. The wounds I sustained back then have not fully healed. Because of that, I cannot destroy your soul right now.]

Wow…
So what you’re saying is…
Since you can’t kill me now…

You’ll just leave me to live in constant fear and anxiety until I die and then send me to hell?
Are you a demon?
You call yourself a goddess, but your actions are no different from a devil’s!!

“…I really... I really hate you. I resent you!! It’s not like I wanted this power!! I don’t even know why it’s inside my soul!! And because of that, I’ve… damn it...”
Overwhelmed with sorrow, I choked up, unable to continue.
Then, wiping my face, I stood up.

“If you can’t do it, then I’ll destroy my own soul.”
Yeah.
If you can’t, then I’ll do it myself.

A high-tier curse.
Didn’t they say that getting hit by one can completely obliterate your soul?
I’ll take the hit and destroy my soul myself.

“I really, really hate you, and I resent you… but for your sake. For the gods of the Pantheon. For the people of this world and for the women I love.”
I clenched my fist tightly.
I prayed that things wouldn’t end like this.

But now that I know the true nature of my power…
Now that I understand it can feed on worship and grow stronger…
There’s only one choice left for me—destroy my soul and leave this world.

I was planning to destroy my soul and return to Korea from the beginning.
The only thing that’s changed is the reason why.
Not just for myself anymore.

For the women I love.
For all the countless people who suffered and struggled.
For the many sick and wounded people I’ve healed, so they won’t have to endure something even worse.

“I’ll become a martyr. If I die as a martyr, it’ll all be over, won’t it?”
I muttered to myself with a bitter smile.
 

****
The Evil God felt like he was about to die from sheer frustration.
This isn’t right.

He wants to become a martyr?
Is that really the correct response?
This guy definitely had something wrong with his brain.

Otherwise, there was no way in hell that "I’ll die for the greater good" would be the response here.
Wouldn’t now be the perfect moment to curse the goddess?
He finally had women who loved him, finally had a taste of happiness—only to be cursed by that goddess, ensuring that he would never truly be happy.

The normal reaction would be hatred, resentment, despair. A spiral into madness and corruption.
That would be the natural course of things...
“What the fuck is wrong with this guy? What the hell is going on inside that head of his?!”

This situation was so absurd that even the Evil God was left speechless for a moment.
He frantically tried to think.
Think. My goal is to make the gods of the Pantheon—who are so damn protective of him—and the demons of Hell collide. This idiot is talking about sacrificing himself. How can I twist this to ensure that clash happens?

The Evil God racked his brain desperately.
And finally—
He came up with a great idea.

[If that is your will, then allow me to help you.]
Lowering his voice, the Evil God mimicked the goddess once again.
[The power of the Evil God will never be able to destroy your soul. You’ve already experienced that firsthand, haven’t you?]

Amayel nodded gloomily.
“The fragment of the Evil God entered my body, but it just got destroyed and disappeared.”
[That’s because the power of Hell within you is far stronger. But that does not mean destruction is impossible. Anything that is created can also be destroyed in the place it originated from.]

“…And that means?”
[Not with the curse of the Evil God, but with the power of Hell itself. With powerful black magic and rituals, it is possible to annihilate both your soul and the power within it. So if you truly intend to sacrifice yourself for everyone, there are two things you must do.]
The Evil God held up two fingers.

[First. You must prevent the power within you from growing any further. Leave behind all those who worship you. Whether it be Hell, the Abyss, or the Pantheon—divine beings draw strength from faith and devotion. Your power works the same way. So you must avoid it.]
It was true—divine powers grew by feeding on faith. The Evil God needed to prevent Asmodeus’ power from growing any stronger.
And besides, this stupidly selfless idiot couldn’t be left unchecked to spread faith in the Pantheon and strengthen them.

He also needed to keep him away from the Pantheon’s influence to make it easier to handle him if things went south.
So that was why he said it.
[Second. Seek out the strongest demon worshippers who are capable of destroying both your soul and the power within it. Use their black magic and rituals to annihilate yourself. That way, for the sake of all humanity—for me and for the gods of the Pantheon—you will achieve martyrdom.]

He was telling him to go and die.
For strangers.
For gods he had never met.

For an entire world that had done nothing but torment him.
Under normal circumstances, a human being would rage, curse, and scream in fury at such a demand…
But—

“I was already preparing to leave. I guess it’s finally time, huh? Understood. I will leave behind those who worship me. And I will seek out black magic and rituals to destroy my soul.”
This dumbass just nodded with a sorrowful expression and agreed to his own death.
The sheer absurdity of it made the Evil God burst into laughter.

What kind of lunatic was this?
Sure, humans came in all kinds, but wasn’t this level of self-sacrifice way beyond normal?
Was his stupidity so extreme that it looked like nobility?

Or was he genuinely so good and kind-hearted that he actually meant it?
Even the Evil God himself couldn’t tell anymore.
As he was struggling to process this ridiculous human—

A powerful force outside began violently tearing into his domain.
It had to be the gods of the Pantheon.
Even knowing the state of Heaven was in complete shambles, they were still expending energy just to interfere.

The Evil God clicked his tongue in irritation.
The aftermath of the celestial war still lingered heavily on him.
He was nowhere near his peak strength.

Back in his prime, he could have forcibly brainwashed Amayel or even peered into his soul directly. But now, all he could do was meet him like this and talk.
And obviously, there was no way he could withstand the interference of the gods for long.
Their conversation was already over.

Just as he was about to leave—
“Goddess. Are you really telling me you can’t destroy my soul right now? No matter how I think about it, waiting for me to do it myself is just needlessly complicated. Wouldn’t it be faster if you just dealt with me right now?”
This dumbass just had to get in one more statement that made the Evil God want to die from stress.

Honestly, even the Evil God wanted to just kill him now.
His original plan was for Amayel to be the catalyst that made the Pantheon and the Demon Lords of Hell clash.
But this absurdly naive idiot, talking about martyrdom like an absolute fool—he was far too unpredictable.

It might actually be better to just erase him and one of Hell’s divine powers entirely right here and now…
‘Fucking Pantheon bastards!!’
But as he’d already said, he wasn’t at full power.

With the celestial war’s aftermath still weighing him down, he couldn’t even properly fend off the interference from the Pantheon’s gods—so how the hell was he supposed to obliterate one of Hell’s divine powers?
[As I told you, I am injured. I cannot destroy your soul or your power. I had planned to recover over time and then cast you into Hell. But since you’ve decided to martyr yourself, you’ve saved me the trouble. Die for my sake.]
For his final attempt, the Evil God openly provoked the so-called Saint.

It was a line so self-serving and vile that any other saint, priestess, or hero would have immediately fallen into despair, cursed Lilia, and descended into darkness.
The Evil God desperately wished—prayed, even—that Amayel would finally snap.
But this brainless, idiotic motherfucker betrayed his expectations one last time.

“…Alright. I’ll do that.”
With a bitter, self-deprecating smile, Amayel gave his answer.
The Evil God genuinely wanted to crack open this human’s skull and see what the hell was inside.

But he held back—because if he did, even he might end up destroyed by Hell’s power.
[Go forth, then. Become a martyr. For all humanity and all the gods of the Pantheon.]
And with those final words, the Evil God withdrew from Amayel.

Muttering angrily to himself that in all his existence, he had never seen such an unbelievably stupid bastard.
As he pulled away, his gaze lifted toward the sky—where the gods of the Pantheon were looking down upon him from afar.
[You fucking worm!! What the hell did you tell our precious faith-generator?! If only Heaven weren’t in such a fucked-up state right now and we could communicate with the mortal realm more directly, I would have ripped you apart and licked your blood and entrails clean, you abyss-crawling piece of shit!!]

 
Among the gods of the Pantheon, the one in the best shape—relatively speaking—was Dulaney, who had recently even chosen a champion in a rare act of generosity. As always, he roared like a barbarian, spitting curses at the Evil God.
[One day, the hammer of justice will come crashing down upon your head, wretched worm of the Abyss.]

The God of Justice, Rophis, spoke with a voice as cold and solemn as the sun blazing behind his radiant halo.
And then, the rest of the gods followed suit.
Each one hurled their own curses and words of condemnation at the Evil God.

It was a sight the Evil God had seen countless times before—so much so that it hardly surprised him anymore.
[Idiots.]
Did those fools even realize that the very being amplifying their faith was none other than a man harboring the power of the Demon King of Lust?

They probably didn’t.
Even the Evil God himself hadn’t realized it until a part of him had been erased inside Amayel.
An excessively powerful authority of lust—combined with Amayel’s absurdly naive and selfless nature—meant that they had no way of perceiving what the power inside him truly was.

But among the Pantheon, there were two gods who might have figured it out.
The Evil God turned his gaze toward them.
One was a goddess, bloodied and battered, her divine essence so severely wounded that it wouldn’t have been surprising if she disappeared altogether.

Lilia, the Goddess of Grace.
And beside her, silently supporting her, stood another god.
Luphiel, the God of Prophecy.

Especially Luphiel.
That bastard was dangerous.
If anyone had realized what kind of power lay dormant inside the so-called Saint, it would be him.

[Amayel will die soon. The very source that has been boosting your faith will disappear. Isn’t that just hilarious? You filthy whores and harlots. I laid my trap in the most obvious way, yet because Heaven is so fucked, you couldn’t even interfere properly in the mortal realm!!]
[I swear to fucking tear that bastard’s scalp off and eat it!! I’ll rip out his liver and lick it clean!!]
Dulaney’s furious roar echoed across the heavens, but the Evil God merely cackled, mocking them all.

[God of Prophecy, this is all thanks to your little revelation. Amayel—he’s afraid. I merely nudged that fear a little. It won’t be long before he dies. And you lot? You’ll never gain anything from this. You’ve played yourselves spectacularly! Hah!!]
At those words, Luphiel gently released Lilia and stepped forward.
And, as always…

He wore that eerie, unreadable smile as he gazed at the Evil God.
[Is that so?]
His voice was low, steady.

Yet that only made it more terrifying.
Luphiel, the God of Prophecy.
He was always like this—an enigma, impossible to read.

[Just watch, you wretched filth writhing in the heavens. You, and the foul demons of Hell alike. One day, all of you will vanish. And I—only I will remain to consume everything. The Abyss is always waiting for you.]
The Evil God chuckled and withdrew into his domain.
The gods of the Pantheon, seeing him depart, also returned to their own realms.

All except for one.
Luphiel.
He alone remained, watching the Evil God’s retreating form.

And on his lips…
That eerie, unreadable smile never faded.