I felt bad for Shiro, but I was going to take advantage of this situation.
I'd already learned from
Based on that, combined with the words of the old man calling himself the Pope, I determined that the Divine Word Sect possessed a remarkably deep understanding of the world's system.
If that was the case, then I should get them to tell me about the world's current state from their perspective.
My own knowledge was limited to what the Taboo had provided and what Shiro had shared with me.
Even if the Taboo's information wasn't fabricated, I couldn't definitively say that Shiro's information was free of deception.
This was a rare opportunity to hear a third party's opinion, so I had to make the most of it.
That said, I couldn't afford to push my own agenda too hard here and end up putting Shiro at a disadvantage in the negotiations.
My very livelihood depended on Shiro's goodwill—I owed my survival to them.
If I earned Shiro's displeasure here, best case scenario was banishment.
Worst case, I could easily end up killed.
Ideally, I'd figure out Shiro's true intentions during this meeting, but if that led to them deciding to dispose of me, I'd be in deep trouble.
Somehow, I needed to probe Shiro's thoughts, keep from upsetting them, and negotiate in a way that gave me leverage over the Divine Word Sect.
Quite the tall order, honestly.
In my previous life, I'd been nothing more than a high school student, and in this one, I'd spent less time living a normal life than not—I was practically feral.
And yet here I was, having to negotiate with someone who called herself the world's administrator and the head of the Human Race's largest religious organization.
The difficulty level was a bit much, wasn't it?
Honestly, I didn't even know where the line of what Shiro would tolerate was, so I needed to proceed with extreme caution.
Depending on how things went, I might have to abandon the idea of figuring out Shiro's true intentions and focus entirely on the dialogue with the Divine Word Sect.
Well, if it came to that, Shiro would probably keep the Divine Word Sect in check, so I wasn't too worried about that.
What I needed to focus on was how far I could push into Shiro's inner circle.
I had to figure that out.
"How much does the Divine Word Sect understand about soul deterioration?"
I'd start from there.
I had no idea how much the Divine Word Sect actually knew—I only had the information Shiro had given me.
Which parts were true and which weren't.
I couldn't even make that judgment.
I glanced at Shiro's expression.
No change.
So it was safe to keep going?
Shiro's face was unreadable—there was nothing to work with.
"The Divine Word Sect does not believe the situation is critical."
Hmm?
Something felt off about the Pope's words.
Could it be... that they knew absolutely nothing about soul deterioration?
If what Shiro had told me was true, there were already so many people whose souls had deteriorated that it was questionable whether they could even make it to the next life.
After all, the people I'd slaughtered in a fit of wrath had been isolated precisely because of that condition.
And the involvement of that other god—the black man who had unilaterally beaten me into the ground—was tied to their isolation.
If that was the case, this was very likely the truth.
If it were a lie, I could easily verify it by confronting the black man directly.
He wouldn't dare fabricate such a lie and drag someone else into it when it could be exposed the moment I met him.
Sure, I could theorize that he was counting on me never meeting the black man, or that the black man was in on it too, but if I questioned everything, there'd be no end to it.
Assuming that the soul deterioration of the world's inhabitants was real, the Pope's words showed a staggering lack of awareness.
So many people were already in a terminal state where their passage to the next life was in jeopardy, yet his sense of crisis was disturbingly low.
If that was the case, perhaps he knew nothing about this at all?
"'Not a critical situation,' you say? When over ten thousand people already might not make it to the next life?"
A flicker of agitation crossed the Pope's eyes.
He managed to compose himself almost immediately, but he was the only one who could.
The other members of the Divine Word Sect couldn't hide their distress.
I might have screwed up.
I'd played this incredible card—one the Divine Word Sect didn't even know about—at the very start of the game.
Without any negotiations whatsoever.
That alone would've been bad enough.
The real problem was the possibility that Shiro had deliberately withheld this information from the Divine Word Sect.
In that case, I'd have just handed valuable information to the other side entirely on my own initiative.
I stole a quick glance to the side.
Shiro didn't move.
So... I was in the clear?
I hadn't crossed Shiro's line yet.
I hadn't given away information that would disadvantage them in negotiations.
That's what I wanted to believe, but...
The fact that I couldn't read Shiro's expression was torture enough for my heart—it was a unique kind of suffering that only Shiro could deliver.
"Is that... the truth?"
Having judged that trying to maintain composure was pointless, the Pope spoke in a heavy tone.
"Administrator Guillier Dist Dies is involved in this matter. I shall invoke his name here and swear that what has been said is true."
Shiro answered the Pope's question on my behalf.
By invoking the black man's name, she was confirming that this was indeed the truth.
As an administrator, it was unthinkable that he would fabricate such a lie just to deceive us.
That much could be inferred from the sharp glint that appeared in the Pope's eyes as well.
"I would like your candid opinion. In your estimation, how much longer can this world last?"
The Pope pressed further.
"It will likely collapse before long."
Shiro's answer to the Pope's question was vague.
Without providing any specific number, she simply said "before long."
Those were the same words written in the book I'd been given.
She wasn't lying—but she wasn't telling the truth either.
Words that could be read either way.
"Could you not be more specific about the timeframe?"
The Pope had apparently arrived at the same conclusion I had.
His tone wasn't hostile, but I could almost hear an undercurrent that refused to accept any evasion.
"Directing that question at me is rather misplaced."
She cut through his words without hesitation.
"I must ask that you not misunderstand—I am fundamentally an outsider to this world. I've offered to help save it out of goodwill, but this is something you should be resolving among yourselves. If you're only now panicking because an outsider has informed you of the crisis, then even if someone told you the world would end tomorrow, you'd have no choice but to stand around helplessly."
Her words carried an implicit irony: was this world's crisis something that even an outsider knew about, yet you yourselves couldn't detect?