You Have Been Invited to the Auction House of the Gods - Chapter 144

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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144

 

World-renowned boxer Mike Tyson once said this:

 

Everyone has a plan.

 

Until they get punched in the face.

 

I lifted up one of the village people charging toward me and slammed him straight into the floor.

 

“Kkeuk!”

 

A painful scream burst out, the kind that comes when your breath gets completely knocked out.

 

I immediately struck his paralysis point.

 

For now, I decided to just subdue them.

 

Whether I’d release the pressure points later or start with bone-breaking torture, I’d think about that when the time came.

 

Next, a sword strike filled with sacred power came flying toward me.

 

I relaxed my hand, and the dagger-shaped Galmu hidden in my sleeve shot out.

 

I slashed upward from below.

 

The sword strike split cleanly, and the sword imbued with sacred power was cut in half.

 

The resident who had attacked looked at me with an expression of disbelief.

 

I felt the same way.

 

I didn’t know sacred power could be split so easily.

 

I reached out and grabbed both shoulders of the dazed resident.

 

Then I pressed his shoulders downward.

 

At the same time, I bent my knee and struck his collarbone.

 

Thwack—.

 

The dull impact sound filled the Village Chief’s tent.

 

The resident couldn’t even let out a pained scream and became a log, rolling on the floor.

 

Since I roughly struck where the paralysis points were located, it seemed the pressure point strike worked.

 

I picked up the pace.

 

Since they were a religious group, they wouldn’t back down in the face of their faith.

 

Moreover, these people knew how to fight.

 

From maintaining formation to filling gaps.

 

Of course, I could see them backing away after I struck the collarbone,

 

but I decided to consider that a strategic retreat to gain momentum.

 

And so the second, third…

 

The number of fallen residents rapidly increased.

 

The difference in strength was clear.

 

What could barely be called a battle—more like a one-sided suppression—was racing toward its end.

 

And finally, only the Village Chief remained.

 

I slowly approached the Village Chief.

 

“So you really are someone sent by that bastard Yun Seo-won…”

 

The Village Chief glared at me with a resentful expression.

 

Let me correct two things.

 

First, the Village Chief and village people were the ones who attacked first.

 

And…

 

“I don’t like Yun Seo-won either.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yun Seo-won and I are in a hostile relationship.”

 

“Then why…?”

 

“I thought this way would be more convenient for having a conversation.”

 

And since everyone else had become logs, wouldn’t it be unfair to give the Village Chief special treatment?

 

“Relax. If you try to block clumsily, you’ll injure your muscles.”

 

Saying that, I reached out my hand.

 

Just as my finger was about to touch the Village Chief’s paralysis point—

 

A middle-aged man in black priestly robes blocked my path.

 

“Couldn’t you stop here?”

 

A low and composed voice.

 

It was a face I felt I had seen somewhere before.

 

“This old man humbly requests this of you, Hunter Han Sang-in.”

 

I quickly searched through my memories and discovered who he was.

 

And it was from relatively recent memory at that.

 

“Father Matteo?”

 

He was Father Matteo, the missing former guild master of the Holy Guild that I had seen in this morning’s meeting materials.

 

***

 

We cleaned up the scene and moved to a different location.

 

It was a cabin located behind the Village Chief’s tent.

 

It was the only building in the village that could be called a house.

 

As I sat down in a chair, Father Matteo brought out some tea.

 

“First, I must apologize. This situation occurred while I was briefly away.”

 

Father Matteo bowed his waist.

 

“Except for me, most of them were trapped in the dungeon quite early, so they probably don’t know Hunter Han Sang-in.”

 

Those words were quite unexpected.

 

It meant there were people who had been trapped in the dungeon from over a year ago.

 

Which meant Yun Seo-won had been infiltrating the Holy Guild for longer than I thought.

 

“What is this place used for?”

 

“It’s a prison.”

 

Father Matteo paused to choose his words, then opened his mouth.

 

“Have you ever heard of a Candidate for Sainthood?”

 

I nodded my head.

 

A Candidate for Sainthood was a position that The Kids who would become the next Pope would ascend to.

 

And there had been quite a commotion when a Korean was included among those candidates.

 

Then I looked at the child lying behind Father Matteo.

 

“That kid is Korea’s Candidate for Sainthood.”

 

My Fire Eyes Golden Clarity had already activated in my eyes.

 

‘So that’s how he was able to deflect my Killing Intent.’

 

Beyond my golden-tinted vision, I could clearly see.

 

The Sacred Power enveloping the child’s body,

 

and the sacred marks carved on his back that were emanating it.

 

That kid who still hadn’t regained consciousness,

 

that child was Korea’s Candidate for Sainthood.

 

“That’s correct.”

 

“So that’s why the Village Chief reacted that way.”

 

I understood to some degree.

 

The Candidate for Sainthood he had been following was being carried on the shoulder of some man who wasn’t even a Vatican Cult Member.

 

‘Good thing I didn’t kill him.’

 

“When the list of Candidates for Sainthood is compiled, factions form.”

 

‘Factions…?’

 

It was natural for factions to form wherever there was power.

 

But Vatican factions were a little different.

 

Their roots were in religious groups, after all.

 

Vatican factional struggles were customs that proceeded under tacit agreement.

 

They would end at the level of newly reorganizing and refreshing each power within the Vatican,

 

while keeping each other in check to maintain balance.

 

And when a saint was chosen after going through various trials, even the competing candidates would bless him.

 

The reason this was possible was simple.

 

The Candidates for Sainthood were also chosen clergy,

 

and even if they didn’t become saints, they were guaranteed important positions in their respective factions.

 

Important positions good enough that they wouldn’t feel disappointed even if they didn’t become Candidates for Sainthood.

 

For example, positions like Commander of the Holy Knights or High Priest.

 

In fact, from a certain perspective, not becoming a saint might actually be better.

 

The moment one becomes a saint, they gain enormous power as the Vatican’s next successor,

 

but they must also bear the corresponding responsibilities.

 

In that case, wouldn’t it be better to become the leader of a relatively free faction?

 

“I understand that Vatican factional struggles aren’t this bloody.”

 

“That’s correct. This factional struggle was the same.”

 

Father Matteo took a sip of tea.

 

“Until a new Candidate for Sainthood appeared, that is.”

 

“Is that possible?”

 

There had been no precedent for changes after the candidate list was established.

 

After all, Candidates for Sainthood are chosen by God.

 

That was the official stance, at least.

 

In reality, how could a new Candidate for Sainthood emerge when the organizational restructuring was already complete?

 

“I didn’t know either. I never expected a new candidate to appear. But what can we do? Since the stigmata manifested, it must be God’s will.”

 

The appearance of a candidate who broke tradition was an ominous sign.

 

In most cases, they either became heroes of turbulent times or absolute evil.

 

Quietly disappearing? Even searching through history books, there were no such cases.

 

However, what was ominous was that looking back at the series of events, I didn’t think this new candidate would be on my side.

 

‘A Cult Leader could easily create something like stigmata.’

 

And ominous premonitions were never wrong.

 

“This place is the isolation area for the faction that supported Candidate Kim Si-on.”

 

***

 

I took a moment to organize my thoughts.

 

Based on the circumstances so far, the new candidate Father Matteo mentioned was likely someone from the cult.

 

They had dismantled the Vatican’s already-confirmed organizational restructuring and built their power base fast enough to turn it from WWE into UFC.

 

This would have been impossible without someone’s intervention.

 

And aside from the cult, I couldn’t think of anything else with enough power to intervene in Vatican factional struggles.

 

‘So this is where the variable begins…’

 

Originally, I had no intention of caring about Father Matteo or some growth brat.

 

I had simply visited the dungeon at the address to get information that would give the Holy Guild, who had messed with Yamyeong, a good hit.

 

I just didn’t expect to catch such a big fish here.

 

And it was the same for the Holy Guild and the cult.

 

To them, I was the variable.

 

‘If I use this well, it could be quite a good situation.’

 

Having quickly made my decision, I looked behind Father Matteo and spoke.

 

“Hey kid, if you’re awake, come over here.”

 

From now on, shouldn’t the decision-makers have a conversation?

 

At my words, Park Si-on, the Candidate for Sainthood, walked out from the bed.

 

I raised the corners of my mouth as I watched Park Si-on sit across from me.

 

“Uncle, shall we write up a contract?”

 

***

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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