Worship me, Fools!

The man before me, whose limbs had already fully regrown, continued to ramble on about the magic of the sea.

It was intriguing.

When I asked if there were beauties, his response was… unexpectedly descriptive.

"Beauties lining up to be chosen, one word and you can get the woman you want, and so on…"

It was so tempting that, for a fleeting moment, I even entertained the thought of closing this shop and following him to the sea.

Then—

"Still, due to the existence of the 'Seductress' in the sea, most pirates don't dare indulge themselves with beauties recently."

I choked on my tea.

Pirates?

So this guy was a pirate too!?

Didn't know before. Good to know.

I cleared my throat. "Ahem. It's okay. Life isn't always about beauties, don't you think?"

He stared at me as if I had spoken some deep, philosophical truth.

"You're right…"

Then, abruptly, he stood up. "Oh yes! Thank you so much again, Master Luthian."

"Un un, you're welcome, you're welcome, Lucas."

I still didn't understand what exactly he was thanking me for, but as long as he was happy—why question it?

Before he could leave, I flicked another gold coin in his direction.

"Here, take another lucky coin."

He caught it, his eyes widening slightly before tucking it away with reverence.

I don't see why I shouldn't hand him one myself.

He did say he was saved by that coin before, didn't he?

Which means…

By logical deduction—I am a mystical being who actually succeeded in blessing those coins during my rituals. And now this coins are now useful!

~Huhuhu.

________

Marcus soon left the shop, despite my generous offer to let him stay.

It was pouring cats and dogs out there, but he still decided to go.

He came in missing an arm and left with both intact. If he turned around and told me my shop had some kind of divine healing properties, I might actually start believing it myself.

But whatever.

As soon as he disappeared into the streets, I shut the curtains, turned off the lights, and headed into my room.

A small room, adjacent to my shop—just enough space for one bed (comfortable for me, impossible for two). On the side, piles of books stacked on top of each other.

Every book was a system reward.

Honestly, I had enough books to start a library, but common sense told me that anything the system gave out wasn't normal. So, like a responsible person, I was trying to figure out their secrets.

Trust me, I wasn't reading them comic books for fun.

This was for the greater good.

Yes, indeed.

I convinced myself.

To prove my own words, I grabbed a book left in the corner, switched on my solar lamp, and read the title.

"A Guide to Godhood."

Now, you could tell just from the title—this book was either groundbreaking or an absolute scam.

I flipped to the first few pages.

"The gods you know of were once mortals. They did not settle for worldly gains but instead carved their path until belief made them divine."

Alright. Okay. Sounds profound.

I skipped ahead to something more useful.

"To either rise up, you must either worship an existing god or have mortals worship you."

…

So is this why everyone was making cults back in my old world? Was it not because the pastor could get a harem? Hmm I always thought that was the case.

They're not just doing it for fun. They're trying to ascend the heavens , I see.

Huh.

I tapped my fingers against the book's worn-out cover.

Maybe I should give it a try.

But how?

I couldn't just walk up to someone and say:

"Hey. Worship me."

That would get me punched.

Then—

A memory from a novel resurfaced.

A devious grin stretched across my face.

Huhuhuhu.

Maybe, just maybe—if I wrote an incantation that sounded profound but secretly led to me.

Would that work?

....

....

"Keeper of Herbs and Trinkets,

Sole recipient of the system's blessings..."

I stare at the paper for a while before scribbling it and tossing it aside, I sighed.

I had arrived at yet another standstill.

No matter how many times I tried, I couldn't craft the incantation that would lead people to me.

"Keeper of Herbs and Trinkets"—

What kind of pathetic title was that?

I wanted to cry.

I went through more ideas.

Each one sounded ridiculous.

Each one was less divine, more street vendor.

Eventually, I gave up.

With ink-stained fingers and a mind too weary to fight, I collapsed onto my bed.

Tomorrow.

I would try again tomorrow.

________________

After leaving the shop, I arrived at the cave where my ship was hidden.

"The captain's back!"

My capable vice captain, Miranda, shouted with barely concealed joy.

"Miranda, how's the crew?"

"Captain Luke, everyone's in low spirits."

Then, in a hushed tone, she asked—

"Did you get the coin?"

Indeed. My name is Luke.

Marcus is merely one of my many alias.

As much as I wanted to tell that shopkeeper the truth—that I am a demi-god—rationality stopped me.

He wouldn't care.

And worst of all?

He had the capability to back that up.

I pulled out the gold coin.

"I've got it."

The words barely left my lips before Miranda jumped in exhilaration.

This seemingly simple coin held a magic power that even I, a demi-god, couldn't figure out.

I handed out a few orders before retreating to my cabin, making sure no one would disturb me.

Once inside, I sat in meditation.

My thoughts drifted back to the shopkeeper's words.

"Life isn't always about beauties."

A simple phrase—most would think I was overthinking it.

But then, add in the image of that seraphim.

That disgusting piece of—

I couldn't.

Through that abomination, I achieved my demi-god status.

I should be grateful.

I should.

Yet its very existence repulsed me.

Then, an idea formed.

What if I—like the seraphim once said—focus on the inside instead of the outer?

What if I no longer sought external perfection, but instead, something deeper?

After all, the rank after demi-god was saint.

And saints were not necessarily pure.

So what if I became the saint of the vile?

Hahahahaha!

Determined that my conjecture was right, I focused.

Days passed.

Meditation. Rituals. Reflection.

Yet, no path revealed itself.

Then—

A knock.

"Captain, we're ready to set sail."

It was Miranda.

I opened my eyes.

… Was I wrong?

I still couldn't find the path to sainthood.

But perhaps—

The sea held the answer.

____________