Chapter 2: Returning Home Part 2

“Well… this isn’t exactly what I was trying to say. Right. Your wish.”

The goddess shrugged her shoulders slightly before speaking.

“I promised to grant you one wish if you saved the world, didn’t I? I called you here to fulfill it.”

“But I’m already dead.”

“Wow, that’s a first. I must have called you without even considering that possibility, huh?”

The goddess’s sarcastic tone, if I’m being honest, came across as a bit thuggish.

Especially with her hair color, it didn’t help her image.

“But, yeah. As you said, you’re dead again. So, things got a little complicated. What used to be a fairly simple matter has become… significantly stricter now.”

After saying that, the goddess let out a deep sigh, as if the ground itself might give way under her despair.

“If it’s too much trouble for you—”

“Why? If I say it’s too much trouble, will you just let it go and ask for nothing?”

The goddess glanced at me sideways again, and I shrugged.

“I’m someone who was supposed to be dead anyway. During this extra life, I managed to accomplish meaningful things I never could in my previous life. That alone is already more than enough reward for me.”

The goddess stared at me blankly for a while before letting out another deep sigh.

Then, with a wave of her hand, she conjured a chair out of thin air and plopped herself down on it.

A round table appeared in front of her, and another chair materialized across from her, facing me.

“Have a seat,” she said.

Her tone was casual, almost as if she were speaking to an old friend.

It was blunt but not unpleasant.

Without saying much, I took the offered seat.

The goddess folded her arms and crossed her legs, studying me intently before finally speaking.

“Did I ever mention that I used to be a pope?”

“…Pardon?”

I didn’t quite catch what she meant and had to ask again, but she continued without bothering to clarify.

“How much do you think my salary was back when I was a pope?”

“Uh…”

I had no clue.

A pope is the highest-ranking person in their religion, so wouldn’t they get paid accordingly?

“Without giving you an exact number, I can tell you it was definitely less than you’d expect.”

Saying this, the goddess reached for a glass that had somehow appeared before her.

It contained an amber-colored liquid with ice.

Was it iced tea?

…And the same drink appeared before me.

I decided to quietly take a sip.

It was peach iced tea—something I hadn’t had in years.

Five years, maybe?

“And why do you think that is?” she asked.

“Because you’re… frugal?”

“Close enough.”

The goddess snorted and added, “When I was a pope, the goddess I served was ridiculously ascetic.”

I figured the word “ridiculously” was her way of emphasizing “extremely.”

But why would she call such a virtuous trait “ridiculous”?

Without me needing to voice my confusion, the goddess dismissed my thoughts with her grumbling.

“The goddess was so ridiculously ascetic that her salary was lower than the pope’s.”

“And after saving up that tiny salary for about fifty years, she just donated it all back to society, saying she had no use for it.”

“Think about it. If a goddess does something like that, what happens to the people working under her? Sure, a goddess doesn’t need money, but the pope, priests, monks, and nuns all have to live on their meager wages. Even if they get three meals a day from the church, people can’t live on food alone.”

After a moment of contemplation, the goddess muttered, “Not that I was human back then, either,” and gave a bitter laugh.

“So… what I’m saying is, just accept what you’re given. No need to say ‘thank you’ or anything like that. Honestly, I’m the one who should be grateful. You’re the one who bore the goddess’s mission and saved the world when she couldn’t step in directly.”

The goddess took her hand off the teacup and said, “You’ll have enough money to live the rest of your life without financial worries.”

“That’s more than—”

“Not enough,” she interrupted. “I won’t make you the richest person in the world or anything. Money isn’t infinite. Still, with your personality, I figure you could live off it for the rest of your life and even pass some down to your grandchildren. But yeah, for saving the world, it’s not exactly a fortune.”

“But ‘enough to live on for the rest of my life’ isn’t something to take lightly,” I said with a smile.

The goddess exhaled softly.

“What do you think a human life is worth?”

“Obviously, it can’t be measured in monetary terms.”

“And yet, you saved millions—no, tens of millions of lives.”

Her gaze met mine, and her eyes held an emotion I couldn’t quite place—was it guilt? I smiled at her and replied, “If human life can’t be measured in monetary terms, then the life I’ve been granted this time also can’t have a price.”

The goddess closed her eyes at my words.

After a moment of thought, she let out a soft laugh and said, “Heroes who save the world always talk like that.”

She sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair, lost in thought for a moment.

Then, as if coming to a decision, she straightened up and opened her eyes.

“Alright, let’s get back to the main issue. I’ll explain why things have gotten complicated.”

“Alright.”

I adjusted my posture and listened closely.

“When someone dies, their ability to receive help from the mortal world becomes extremely limited. If you’d survived, I could have bestowed my power upon a saintess to open a path to another world and send you there.”

“But since I’m dead…”

“I’ll have to make another body for you.”

The goddess spoke with a serious expression.

“And this body will inevitably be a little different from ‘your’ body. Even though I know what you look like, a body I create won’t be exactly the same as the one you were born with. It will even differ slightly from the body you used before.”

She explained that involving another dimension to create a new body and infusing it with a complete soul wasn’t an easy task.

Moreover, since the new body would be created far away, reproducing an identical version multiple times was impossible.

It was like trying to trace a drawing with a long pair of chopsticks while a thin veil obstructed your view.

If you were to trace that reproduced drawing again, the final result would inevitably be even further from the original.

Of course, I would still be me, with my own memories.

But to others who saw me, I wouldn’t be the same.

“I promise to make it as close as possible…”

“No.”

I shook my head.

This was actually for the best.

It was an issue I had been considering for some time.

“Huh?”

“Instead, I’d like you to create an entirely different appearance. One that no one from my old world would recognize.”

“…Completely different?”

“Yes.”

The goddess frowned slightly as she stared at me, then asked, “Why? It’s not like you have enemies from your original world.”

“That’s true.”

But… there were people I cared about.

There were people who cared about me, who loved me—family I cherished.

And to them, I had already died five years ago.

My body had been recovered, the funeral held, and they probably offered annual memorial services.

Perhaps on the anniversary, they even visited my resting place.

It must have been heartbreaking for them, but five years had passed.

The pain would have started to heal, even if not completely.

But what would happen if they encountered “someone who looked exactly like the person they had lost”?

Of course, I am still me.

I have all my memories, and I could greet my mother or sister warmly if I met them.

But from their perspective, it would just be someone who bore a striking resemblance to their lost son or brother.

…In the world I came from, where things like superpowers, magic, fairies, and beastfolk didn’t exist, saying, “I am your son” would come across as nothing more than a cruel joke.

But I wanted to be near my mother and sister.

That’s why I wanted to return.

So I wished selfishly—to start anew as a completely different person and rebuild relationships from scratch.

“…I see…” The goddess spoke with difficulty, as if the words were being forced out.

“Yes, please make me unrecognizable.”

Was my mother doing better now?

…Had my sister graduated from college? Did she have a boyfriend?

The goddess closed her eyes, lost in thought, before answering.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll grant it. But this will truly be the last time. Once it’s done, you can’t change it. Are you sure you won’t regret this?”

“Yes. No matter what I look like, as long as I can be near the people I love.”

“…I understand.”

The goddess nodded.

We sat silently across from each other, sipping tea until our cups were empty.

“A dear friend of mine once said, ‘The best ending to any story is this: And they all lived happily ever after.’”

“That’s a lovely story.”

I smiled as I replied, and the goddess nodded, bringing her hands together in front of her chest.

“Indeed. So, as a goddess, I shall pray for you.”

As she took a quiet breath, a halo of white and black light appeared behind her head.

The sacred radiance was so overwhelming that her earlier casual demeanor felt like a distant memory.

“May your path ahead be filled only with hope and happiness. And when you meet me again, may you smile and say you have no regrets.”

Soon, my vision was enveloped in a white light—

And when I came to, I found myself standing in the middle of a bustling street in Seoul.

The sense of unfamiliarity I felt this time was even stronger than when I was reborn before.