Chapter 165

Here is the English translation of the provided novel excerpt while adhering to your glossary guidelines:

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Episode 165

The Clumsy Cultist

165 ? The Clumsy Cultist #1

In the darkness, Paranoi’s crimson eyes shimmered.

Perhaps because of their orange hue, they looked strangely terrifying at night—almost like the glint of a beast’s eyes.

And in truth, right now, Paranoi was no different from a beast.

If I failed to keep her in a good mood, there was a chance she’d go scampering to Luna—who she followed like an older sister—and tattle:

“Lady Luna! Hassan, that creep, groped my thigh while I was asleep…!”

In which case, I’d probably have my hair yanked out while Luna screamed at me, “Hassan, you’re the worst!” before kicking me senseless.

The imagined voice was so vivid, as if I was seeing the future, that it sent shivers down my spine.

Was this the legendary level of Observation Haki? I heard it develops further in dire situations—and this was exactly that.

Thus, to prevent such a future, I racked my brain for a way to deceive both Paranoi’s heart and mind.

d*mn, isn’t there a good way out?

”Sir Hassan… are you truly Lord Pluto’s son?”

Ironically, Paranoi was walking right into the trap herself. For now, I could take advantage of her misunderstanding.

She had mistaken me for some cultist from the very beginning, and in many ways, it worked in my favor.

So, I silently begged forgiveness from my parents, wherever they were, for pretending to be someone else’s son today. They’d surely understand—this was to protect their son’s honor.

“Yes. Well, you see—the truth is, I am Pluto’s son.”

The moment the words left my mouth, regret flooded in. Did I really have to go this far? And would Paranoi even fall for such an obvious lie?

“I-I knew it…! My intuition was right after all! I’m not stupid!”

She actually bought it.

In fact, Paranoi seemed genuinely awestruck by her own “divine” judgment, trembling like she was about to burst into tears from sheer amazement.

“Sir Hassan… then why are you living amongst commoners like this? What’s the reason for pretending to be that foolish Samaritan?”

“Pretending? To be a foolish Samaritan?”

d*mn, that’s a low blow. It felt like taking a critical punch to the gut. This d*mn Paranoi was sharper than she looked.

So, the dumbest one around had always seen me as the dumb Samaritan? I wanted to smack her head.

But if I let her provoke me, she’d grow suspicious—leading straight to the “Hassan, you’re the worst!” ending.

I had to protect my future home.

“It’s… all part of the deception tactic. To fool our enemies.”

With every lie, my shoulders and chest grew heavier. Was this the weight of leadership?

Thankfully, my efforts didn’t seem wasted—Paranoi’s reaction was bright.

“Enemies…! The enemies of Lord Pluto! You were deceiving those wicked Shrine Knights, weren’t you?! That acting was incredible! Even I, Paranoi, Lord Pluto’s most devout apostle, almost fell for it!”

You already fell for it. Of course, she didn’t realize that. Still, I had her outmatched.

Though, for someone who repeatedly switched sides between conversion and betrayal, she sure had the nerve to call herself Pluto’s most devout apostle. What a d*mn hypocrite.

But that wasn’t important right now.

I cleared my throat and spouted some nonsense I’d cooked up in my head.

“True deception begins with fooling your allies before your enemies, Paranoi. Anyway, you saw through me—very fitting of the foremost apostle.”

Emphasizing “foremost apostle,” I gently patted her head. Her crimson hair was surprisingly soft—did she use good quality oil?

Paranoi didn’t seem to know how to react to my praise.

“Hngg~… So I was right to pretend to betray Lord Pluto…! And the reason you stayed silent all this time was to test me, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Something like that. Either way, you passed.”

“Eep! I passed! I really passed!”

She squealed, jumping up and down in joy. Worried Luna might wake up, I quickly covered her tiny mouth with my palm.

“Shh, quiet. This stays between the two of us.”

At my words, Paranoi nodded. When I removed my hand, she whispered like a villain plotting something nefarious.

“So Lady Luna still doesn’t know?”

“Right.”

“I see… You’re using one of Hell’s 24 Forbidden Arts—the Deceit of the False Prophet! Then we must keep it secret!”

“False what?”

“The 16th of Hell’s 24 Forbidden Arts—the Deceit of the False Prophet… The son of Lord Pluto should be capable of wielding Hell’s 52 Forbidden Arts, right?”

The hell? What kind of numbering is that? 24 Arts, but the last is 52? The more we talked, the more my brain twisted.

From what I gathered, in Paranoi’s head, “Pluto’s son” was like a Kamen Rider with ultimate techniques or something.

Was she the one testing me? Underestimating me?

This was the 21st century—an era dominated by media. My mind, trained by endless books, comics, and films, quickly pieced together an image of what “Pluto’s son, the demon lord’s descendant, the Archduke of Hell,” would be like.

All I had to do was act the part.

“Right. Hell’s 24 Forbidden Arts. The son of Hell feels no guilt even in his lies.”

“As expected of a merciless fiend—the very essence of a vile scoundrel!”

What the f—

Ugh.

Honestly, I just wanted this whole situation over with so I could sleep. The priority now was making sure Paranoi kept quiet about tonight.

“Paranoi—what happened today, and my true identity, must never be spoken of.”

“…Not even to fellow devotees of Pluto?”

“No. Only you can know. You’re, well… my right-hand now.”

“I’m… the right hand?! Not Anchors, not Somnia, not Schizo, not even the Captain—but me, Paranoi?! This is too much!”

She was beyond thrilled, as if she’d beaten out all the other high-ranking cultists for the position. Just as I’d intended.

But then she asked the crucial question:

“So… what do I get? Any benefits?”

Benefits? That was important. What perks came with being “Right Hand to Archduke Hassan of Hell”?

“C-Can I get gold coins…?”

Gold coins? I don’t even have those.

I scrambled for an excuse, putting my 21st-century university-educated brain to work.

Since I was roughly twice as smart as Paranoi, I should be able to come up with something twice as convincing.

Finally, my brilliant mind produced a plausible answer.

“As my right hand… one day, when I ascend to rulership, I’ll grant you a 5% stake in the world I command.”

“…5% of Hell?!”

Of course, it was a lie. I was never becoming a ruler. This was pure fraud—advertising fake assets.

But Paranoi didn’t know that. Eyes sparkling, she gasped.

“With 5% of Hell, I could become a Baroness—no, a Countess…!”

For a moment, I felt bad.

I wasn’t Hell’s son or a terrifying monster wielding forbidden arts—just a guilt-ridden commoner, Hassan, who told lies.

Turns out, deceit and villainy aren’t for just anyone.

But I still had to seal the deal.

Putting on my best “demonic overlord” voice, I added with grave finality:

“But a right hand carries grave responsibility. If you ever break this secrecy… you’ll be cast into the deepest abyss of Tartarus—beyond even the darkest reaches of Nox.”

“Eeek…!”

Instantly, her glee vanished. Paranoi cowered, genuinely frightened.

Good thing I skimmed that encyclopedia on Pluto’s Labyrinth, Tartarus, and its rulers.

Education does pay off.

Now that the act was complete, I thought about finally sleeping—until I noticed Paranoi blinking up at me.

“Go upstairs and sleep already. Or is there something else?”

“Lord Pluto… must have answered my prayers…”

“Prayers?”

Before I could ask, she began rambling to herself.

“Every night in the cave, waiting for Mother, I prayed to Lord Pluto… but after He first revealed Himself, I never got an answer…”

Tears welled in her crimson eyes, glistening under the dim moonlight from the first-floor window.

An image formed in my head: a younger Paranoi, hiding in a dark cave, waiting for a mother who might never return.

A nymph, hunted by predators in this harsh world, crouched in loneliness and fear, praying night after night—with no reply.

As dumb as Paranoi was, she wasn’t evil. If gods did exist, they should’ve answered her at least once.

My opinion of Pluto sunk even lower. A true demon-god, that one.

Not that I had any right to judge—I’d not only groped this naïve girl’s thigh but was now deceiving her. My chest tightened, face burning with shame. I’m the real villain here.

Clueless to my guilt, Paranoi wiped her streaming tears.

“But now His son stands before me… So my prayers weren’t meaningless… I can’t stop crying!”

“Yeah, well… He probably heard. Just got busy. Hell’s packed with dead folks—lots of paperwork.”

“I knew it! As the foremost apostle, I understood that!”

And so, the night’s bizarre farce came to an end.

Paranoi, seemingly calmed, took deep breaths before padding barefoot up the stairs.

I watched her go with unease.

I’d told her to keep it secret—but she was terrible at keeping things quiet. Maybe I should’ve erased her memory like Hippolyte once did to me…

But that “forbidden art” might erase her instead of just her memories.

As she climbed, Paranoi suddenly turned back.

“Sir Hassan…”

“What now?” Go to sleep.

“If you’re really Lord Pluto’s son… could you show me Necromancy?”

“Necromancy?”

“I want to see you wield the power of d*ath… Then I can truly believe you’re His son!”

What would a smooth-talker say here?

“Little nymph, blessed are those who believe without seeing.”

“But… I’ve heard too many unbelievable things tonight. I need proof.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

I rummaged through a bone-filled jar on the first floor—leftover from Luna’s suspicious potion-making. Grabbing a handful, I scattered them on the ground and commanded:

“…Arise.”

Click, clack. The bones shifted, piecing together into a grotesque, child-sized figure—startling me for a second.

“A Bone Goblin?! Basic Necromancy… but without incantations or magic circles?! So fast…!”

Paranoi trembled, genuinely awed. Me? I was just worried someone—especially Luna—might see this.

What would she think if she knew I could do this? Would she despise me as a cultist? Maybe I could pass it off as Voodoo… but I’d rather not risk it.

“There. Done.”

I delivered a punch (STR: 12) to the standing “Bone Goblin,” reducing it to a crumbling pile.

“Sir Hassan, I’ll work even harder!”

“No, tone it down. The time isn’t right. Stay hidden—like a lion in the brush, claws sheathed.”

“A lion…”

“Yeah, waiting for the moment. No growling, no rustling. That’s us. Understood?”

I worried she’d get overenthusiastic and cause trouble, so I ordered her to keep living as usual—pretending to be a devout follower of the Forge God.

“You’re still a Forge Shrine believer. Act like it… even if you’re not inside.”

“Understood! Infiltrate the Shrine to gather intel on the Shrine Knights—since they’re close to Jupiter’s Order!”

“Sure, something like that. This conversation ends now. Don’t bring it up again.”

She pouted but relented at my stern look, finally curling up beside Luna upstairs.

Snuffle, snore…

Only when both girls were fully asleep did I exhale in relief.

What the hell kind of night was this?

Exhausted, I lay on a makeshift blanket on the first floor. Something sharp poked my back—was the whole world out to torment me?

Nah, just leftover bone fragments from the “Bone Goblin.”

“…Arise.”

Sitting up, I muttered the command half to myself.

Something stirred beneath the blanket, bones reassembling into a ghastly little specter.

Click, clack.

Terrifying. The skull’s empty sockets flickered with eerie blue light, making my hair stand on end.

“Back in the jar.”

Click.

It obeyed, crawling into the pile of bones.

“Now… disperse.”

Crash.

The bones collapsed noisily, scattering apart without me lifting a finger. Huh—just the command worked.

d*mn, that’s cool.

Might be worth studying more.

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Author’s Notes:

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SO GOOD…!!

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(End of Translation)

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