Player-Hunting Inquisitors

Chapter 0

Those who believe in the God of Darkness, the Cult of Darkness.

A place that serves both as a branch of the cult and as a church.

In a basement that no one knows exists, a sound completely unrelated to the church echoed.

Bang--

In that basement, a person dressed as an adventurer was tied to a chair, while a young man stared at him.

The adventurer's face was distorted with fear.

His hands had already lost feeling, and his entire body was covered in blood from torture.

He was barely alive, faintly holding on through hours of repeated pain.

There was only one thing he regretted: listening to the Goddess and crossing into this world.

The young man torturing him seemed to be a devout believer, dressed in the cult's priestly robes.

His black hair, splattered with blood, appeared dark crimson.

"I've told you everything I know! Please, spare me!"

The young man's expression was emotionless.

"Please stop... It was all my fault, no, it was all my fault. Please, just spare my life..."

"You're noisy. Just stay quiet."

Finally, the young man opened his mouth, but it was of no help to the adventurer. Calmly, the young man spoke of the adventurer's identity.

"You're the last one. The player who received a quest related to the Demon Lord. So I can't let you go peacefully."

The reason the young man was torturing the adventurer: as an inquisitor of the Cult of Darkness, he had the duty to judge outsiders.

The young man muttered while glaring at the adventurer.

"You see this world as a game. Quests, rewards, fun... But what you're trampling on is our lives and our reality."

In the world where the young man lived, the protagonists were not the outsiders.

***

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