Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired – Chapter 45

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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When I agreed to listen, her expression brightened, and the scenery shifted. The ordinary office transformed into a vast, empty white space, its boundaries indistinct.

[…Where should I begin…?]

“Keep it brief.”

[…Yes…]

She clasped her hands together and introduced herself as Solra, Goddess of the Sun.

And then, she began her story.

[…I wasn’t the only one who created this world. Other gods contributed as well, each bestowing their own blessings upon humanity…]

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The gods cherished humanity. They might not have considered them equals, but they were certainly treasured playthings. They delighted in observing humanity’s progress, offering guidance and gifts.

The noble knight received innate leadership and charisma.

The skilled artisan received dexterity and craftsmanship.

The god of war bestowed strength and martial prowess.

Humanity, blessed by the gods, worshipped them, their faith unwavering.

But humanity was fickle. In time, they forgot their reverence, their faith waning. They attributed their talents to their own efforts, not divine blessings. They sought to forge their own destinies, defying the gods’ plans, even mocking their supposed benefactors.

Most gods tolerated this. One wouldn’t abandon a beloved cat simply because it stopped being affectionate.

But one goddess disagreed.

Luna, Goddess of the Moon, ruler of the night. She couldn’t bear humanity’s ingratitude. She raged against their arrogance, their defiance, demanding they be punished.

But the other gods wouldn’t agree. They still favored humanity.

Then, something happened.

Humanity, unknowingly, pushed Luna too far. She retaliated, unleashing her wrath upon them, her actions justified in the eyes of her sister, Solra, the Sun Goddess. But divine intervention was forbidden.

Luna was punished, and humanity, according to the stories they told themselves, repented.

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“…So? What’s the point of this story?”

I was tired of listening to ancient history. I wanted to know their reasons, their motivations, why they’d done this to me.

[…It’s about you… very much so…]

“So… what is it—”

[…She’s the reason… for your reincarnation…]

I grabbed Solra by the hair, yanking her head back.

“Explain yourself. Clearly. Or I’ll rip your scalp off.”

[…Ugh…]

“Tell me everything. Why she’s making me relive my life over and over again.”

I couldn’t even begin to guess. I’d never heard of anything like this. The only connection I had to the moon was the Moonlight Nine Swords technique.

[…She… fell from grace…]

“What…?”

[…She didn’t forgive humanity, even after being punished…]

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She’d hated humanity, even while imprisoned, her powers restricted. They’d assumed her hatred would fade, but it had only intensified, fueled by their actions.

Her once gentle light had turned dark, her love replaced by hatred.

Consumed by her hatred, she’d chosen the path of corruption, abandoning her divinity, seeking to descend upon the mortal realm, to destroy humanity and create a new paradise.

But it wasn’t that simple. Influencing the mortal realm required a significant expenditure of karmic energy. She needed a different approach.

She’d chosen to inhabit a human body, but even that wasn’t easy. She needed a vessel strong enough to contain the immense weight of her resentment.

The guilt of her first kill.

The sorrow of a child weeping for its mother.

The anguish of a lover clutching a severed hand.

These emotions, powerful enough to shatter a mortal mind, were difficult even for a goddess to endure.

She’d once loved humanity, and these feelings were… overwhelming.

So, she’d devised a solution.

‘If such a vessel doesn’t exist, I’ll create one.’

If she couldn’t tolerate the humans of this world, she’d bring one from another dimension. And to withstand the guilt, she’d remove compassion. To endure the sorrow, she’d eliminate empathy. To bear the weight of their resentment, she’d embrace selfishness and rationalization. And to kill them all, she’d erase love.

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“…And she chose… me?”

[…Yes…]

I was speechless.

Hundreds of times, I’d repented.

Thousands of sins, I’d confessed.

Tens of thousands of tears, I’d shed.

I’d killed, abandoning my humanity.

I’d used others, discarding my conscience.

I’d considered myself worthless, a monster deserving of nothing but death. I’d believed my reincarnation was a punishment for some unknown sin.

And the reason…

…was some random goddess’s tantrum?

‘…Fuck…’

[…Um…]

She fidgeted under my gaze, her expression anxious. And I remembered what I’d done to her, the violence I’d inflicted.

She was acting strangely. According to her story, she wasn’t at fault.

“…Why did you apologize to me?”

[…I’m a bystander…]

“That was an excessive apology for a mere bystander…”

[… ]

I thought about it.

What if she hadn’t agreed to meet me?

I’d have continued my cycle of reincarnation, forever incomplete. And as she’d said, that bastard… God… would have descended, using my body as a vessel.

What would she gain from that?

Faith. Humanity, desperate in times of crisis, would turn to the divine, their prayers directed at her, increasing her power.

It all clicked into place.

“…You…”

[…sob… Yes…]

“…You didn’t fail to help me… you chose not to…”

She’d deliberately orchestrated my suffering, hoping to gain more followers, more power.

Her head bowed in silent confirmation.

I grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the ground, pinning it there with my foot.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Thud—

“Do you expect me to save those humans down there?”

Thud—

Crack—

“Why are you even talking to me? I would never have met you otherwise.”

Crack—

Squish—

“Well? Care to answer?”

I lifted her head, her face a mangled mess, her nose broken again, her left eye swollen shut.

[…At first… it was to protect my vessel…]

“And?”

I tightened my grip on her hair, pulling it, demanding a quicker answer.

[…I… promised… but if you died… it wouldn’t be fulfilled…]

“…And?”

[…I hastily possessed your body… and your memories… flooded my mind…]

“…”

[…The loss… the guilt… the pain… the sorrow… all of it…]

Her voice cracked, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes.

[…Your skin being flayed… your fingers and toes being severed…]

“…”

[…It was so… so painful… I couldn’t bear it… and you… you endured it all…]

“…”

[…I… I could have helped you… it wouldn’t have been difficult…]

“…”

[…I’m… I’m so sorry… it was my… fault… sob…]

Even Michael, who’d been clinging to my leg, moved to Solra’s side, her head bowed.

I stood there, frozen, unable to process her words.

After a long silence, their sobs gradually subsiding, I spoke.

“…Let’s pray.”

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