A secret chamber filled with layers of scientific and supernatural defenses. Four men gathered in one place, exchanging weary glances before heaving sighs, as if this routine had long grown tiresome.
The frailest-looking among them—so fragile he seemed like he might snap with a mere touch—spoke first, his voice tinged with irritation.
“So? What is it this time?”
“The world’s been acting strange lately. Several turning points of fate have emerged, and the trumpets of doom haven’t stopped blaring.”
“Doom? That’s absurd—when has there ever been a more peaceful time than now?”
At the skinny man’s dismissive remark, the masked man frowned slightly. Such complacent thinking was precisely what jeopardized the duty they bore.
Noticing the masked man’s discomfort, the frail speaker clamped his mouth shut, then sighed and shook his head.
“Fine, fine. I’ll look into it, okay?”
“Thank you, Mr. Powerful.”
“Yeah, yeah. But considering how many times the trumpets have sounded, it’s odd that the news hasn’t picked up on it. It might be risky to go alone, so I’ll take Mr. Rays with me.”
At the mention of his name, the white-haired man, Mr. Rays, gave a brief nod. Judging by his build, it was hard to tell which of the two actually deserved the name “Powerful.”
Satisfied with their agreement, the leader, Mr. Clear, nodded approvingly before speaking.
“All for the sake of this world.”
“For Terra.”
The four guardians rose from their seats.
And then they vanished—so naturally it was as if they had never been there at all.
“Another beautiful day, my god.”
“…Excuse me?”
I had just grabbed some toast and coffee before returning to the lab, only to find the Saint awake and staring at me. Her words left me completely dumbfounded. God? Was her brain scrambled because of the surgery?
Of course, there was no way my surgery could have gone wrong. More likely, it was her body reacting differently due to her unusual constitution. The preliminary tests hadn’t shown any abnormalities, but being dragged into the fourth dimension must have altered her physiology somehow…
“You saved me, freed me from agony, and even restored me—how could I not call such grace divine?”
“For starters, I’m not a god. I’m just a regular human being… And besides, weren’t you part of a cult? Acting pious now won’t—”
“Oh my, you caught on?”
The Saint playfully stuck out her tongue, then quickly cleared her throat and launched into a confession.
“Of course, it’s true. I never had any real faith—I only pursued my own desires. I didn’t believe in gods; I merely exploited divine powers. And in that process, there wasn’t a shred of reverence or sincerity in anything I did.”
Because she could, she did.
Is it praiseworthy for a billionaire worth 10 trillion won to hand 1 million won to a homeless beggar? Some might say yes, but not really. At least, not for someone with 10 trillion won.
Lizebel was no different. She did it because she could—posing as a saint, claiming divine authority, and granting godlike powers to others. She simply did it because it was within her means.
“—But paradoxically, at the end of that path, I found a faith I can never let go of.”
That faith… is you.
Lizebel gazed at me with reverence. She worshiped me. Admired me. Prayed to me.
After observing all this, I came to a single conclusion.
‘She’s insane.’
Then again, could anyone call what she experienced normal? The pain she had endured far surpassed any method of human torture ever devised in history. Stretching a body across the fourth-dimensional axis? No sadistic torturer in the world would have ever conceived of such a thing.
To make matters worse, she had been cursed at and attacked by the very followers who once trusted her, fired upon by a fighter jet, and even targeted by villains—albeit unintentionally.
Just because her body had swollen grotesquely didn’t mean her nerves had gone numb. I knew her pain must have scaled along with her distorted form. And I knew too well how easily pain could utterly destroy a person.
“Do you understand now, my god? Only after abandoning everything was I able to gain everything… Ah, truly, this too must be divine grace—”
“Enough. I get it. Just—stop calling me ‘god.’”
“Yes, my god!”
I sighed.
After a moment’s pause, I reminded myself that dealing with a lunatic like this was more trouble than it was worth. Ignoring her would be far more efficient. She was no exception.
I needed to explain her surgical results and side effects and then get her out of here. I wasn’t a doctor, and I’d never taken the Hippocratic Oath—so why was I even doing this?
“Well then, let me explain this in simple terms, Lizebel.”
“Yes, my god!”
“You are… to put it simply, already dead.”
“…What?”
“At least, by this world’s medical standards.”
In a world where death was determined by the absence of a heartbeat, breath, or brain activity for mere minutes, Lizebel was already considered dead. She still was.
“Your body… I’ll be blunt. It stretched in unnatural ways. Do you understand what that means?”
“…Yes. I remember everything from back then.”
“Good. That makes this easier.”
I explained how her body had been unnaturally stretched along the fourth-dimensional axis, which caused her physical structure—her body in the three-dimensional space of XYZ—to elongate as well.
Just like how a stretched-out piece of clothing never fully returns to its original shape, her body couldn’t revert to normal—at least, not naturally.
“I reconstructed your body from head to toe. Literally, piece by piece. I shrank the stretched cells one by one, and in the process, many things about you inevitably changed.”
Humans are fragile creatures. Even slight damage to the frontal lobe can alter personality and behavior drastically. After pulling apart and reconstructing her brain cell by cell, the odds of preserving her original self were slim. Even a simple electric shock could cause permanent changes—and this had been far more invasive than that.
“In other words, the fact that you’re so devoted to me might just be a side effect of the surgery…”
“So you’re saying you used divine superpowers to resurrect me?”
“No, not divine powers—science.”
“Ooooh—super science!”
“…Please, stop.”
I couldn’t help but sigh.
Well, better this than having her break down into tears or depression. I continued listing potential side effects—such as occasional heart palpitations or insomnia—but it seemed she wasn’t paying much attention.
Suddenly, Lizebel looked around with a puzzled expression.
“Um… my god? Something feels off…”
“Oh, you mean your abilities? They’re probably gone. I reconstructed your cells and expelled that thing.”
“I see. That’s why the dog isn’t here anymore…”
Dog? She seemed disappointed.
By “dog,” she probably meant the higher-dimensional creature she used to worship—the source of her overwhelming powers.
It was understandable. Without that divine source, she couldn’t continue playing the role of a saint—
‘Wait. Hold on.’
I froze, staring at her.
The dog isn’t here anymore?
That meant she was still seeing the fourth dimension.
How?
Her reconstructed cells should have eliminated her previous abilities. The sense that allowed her to perceive the fourth dimension should have vanished.
“…Wait a second, Lizebel. Can you still use your abilities?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I can.”
Lizebel casually stretched out her hand.
Her fingers extended like rubber, disappearing into what looked like empty space—only to snap back into place moments later.
She shrugged as if to say, ‘See?’
“Wait… didn’t you say your powers were gone?”
“Uh, well…”
I was at a loss.
What the hell?
Seriously—what the hell was this?
Both Lizebel and I were left staring at each other, utterly dumbfounded.