Gang of Yuusha

Gortle, the clerk with ten priests of the Demonic Church, goes shopping on the market on Sabbath Day.

Appearances are noted in the procurement and scheduling book of supplies, but not in practice.

It's to clear the mood for abstinence.

Göttle lives his daily life in the Great Hall, called the Sanctuary.

Though we are supposed to be entrusted, preaching innocent (mucco) people, encouraging religious rituals and training - Gortle has no talent for sacred witchcraft.

He has no faith in himself, in the Holy Spirit or Spirit or in the gods that affect the earth.

But that's fine. Because a demonic church is a religion aimed at very ordinary human beings who nod, hate, and curse sorcery - walking flat on the side of the road.

Man praises the competence of a sorcerer, and blesses him with a flamboyant face if blessed with grace, but jealous of what he does not have, as the inescapable nature of man.

That is why it is a sin - to destroy with pleasure those who have taken part in sorcery criminal activity.

The depression of the unworthy is power, and it is a donation.

In other words, the Demonic Church is the institution that inspects mysteries.

It also enacts customary laws formed by collective hysteria. If people like lynch culture rejoice, they also do witch-hunting acts.

It is also an organization that has mastered local administration by the power of numbers.

I can't bear the end of it, but if you don't like that, you have to run away from Yorktoria.

"Whoa, stop. You're going too far!

With one hand on the window frame, Göttle, who was looking out at the view, let his anger rage against you. At that time, I didn't forget to kick the wall behind your table. The shocked old man mocks the horse with a wounded face. Gortle wore his hood around with both fingers, and as he descended on the side of the road, he snuggled up to a church-approved liquor store.

He pushes open the glass door and speaks to the middle-aged shopkeeper in apron who was serving liquor on the central display shelf.

"Oops. It's the usual, horse milk liquor"

"Yeah, I do. Dear Clerk,"

"Fool, don't say it. There will be unwanted rumors."

"Excuse me."

Göttle's piercing coat runs with red vermilion lines on the shoulder area and on the sleeve mountain, and is even finely finished with gold and silver yarn around the front of the top (Mamizo). For your patience, but luxurious, this costume stands out in Ichii.

The truth is, I don't want to hide my identity.

I would never mind if people didn't respect me, but still pretend to hide myself in a hood for once. I thought that was my taste as a high-ranking person.

The liquor store owner turned back there and brought what was considered horse milk liquor.

It's in a larger hippo, and the bottom is covered with the net for easier holding.

"All right, turn the bill over to the accounting firm"

"Yes."

I've never cut a dime.

For the most part, grape liquor would have been ordered for about one case. That's not something Gortle would be aware of, and I've never had a complaint since I took office as a clerk.

Göttle turned his back on the shopkeeper and went back to the carriage.

When I sat back in the car, the horse ran and the move resumed.

For a while, Göttle was jittery. When the hustle and bustle of people get far away, they turn away from the inside and look at the outside for a moment. The carriage was quietly slowing down a dimly detailed path.

I had no eyes at all, and I put my mouth on the carpet when I cut it off.

"Huh."

A stinking exhale flies through the gap between yellow teeth. Fluorescent runs over exposed skin. Göttle liked the overflow effect of the recovery potion. Because my brain marrow liquefies into trout, and still, my consciousness is clear, and I feel like everything in the world has become my own.

Drowning in the intoxicating action of high potion.

Then about five minutes later, I couldn't hear my hooves.

"Sir."

"Oh, I get it"

Getting off, Göttle stuck his collar.

It was the whorehouse that arrived.

Most likely, it takes the form of a collective dwelling (apartment). Not tired of taking banned psychotropic drugs, Göttle was dyeing her hands for girl prostitution as well.

Sprinkling perfume with mist, Gortle dreamed of his opponent of the day, Bellanna.

She is a short girl, in poor shape because of lack of nutrition. Gortle hated mature women because he was a narrow little boy. Because it will always be in the form of being overlooked, and I feel humiliated when I line up on the side. Even if we're alone in the Chamber, I can't stand it.

He entered the interior of the building and ascended the stairs to make sure the decorative lights were on.

Pink filthy light is a sign in business.

I have an appointment. That's why I hated Göttle for these, "whatever” performances. I didn't even like to give a mouthful to the facilities of the whorehouse. I don't want them to think I'm weirdly obsessed. He also has an uncomfortable personality when he does.

"... hey"

I opened the door and waited for the boy to rush, but only today did no one come. Maybe he's even sleeping. Gortle decided that the job of the lower bitch was to that extent.

Then, and the playroom in the back - I try to make my way to the special bedroom.

You don't have to worry about other rooms just separated by curtains because you make sure no other guests come on the day you come.

That's how I walked into the spacious room with the tub, and a black shadow ran in the corner of my sight.

Soon, Göttle was strangled with wings by someone who had snuck in from behind him.

"Nooo! Ugh, whoa..."

The monkeys were quickly put on, and the heavens and earth of Göttle were reversed.

They decided to pay for my feet. He hits his right shoulder and stomps his back all the way down where he was rolled to the ground.

Two rough looking men staring down at Göttle with cold eyes.

There seems to be nothing sinful about doing harm to people, and I'm not excited.

"What do we do?

"In the meantime, I wonder if I'll slip through my eyeballs... No, it's a hassle, it'll be great"

Göttle tried to scream tall in a vicious conversation. I turned my body upside down and shrimped upside down.

I tried to scream, but I couldn't speak because of the white cloth coming into my mouth.

When Gortle was transported to the ancient warehouse, Shoji lit a candle fire. Shake the match, extinguish the fire, and dump it in the ashtray.

I also need eyeballs - but I also needed inside information more than that.

It's best to catch the Ten Priests, the center of the Demonic Church, but you won't be able to move, even if it's too much of a problem. So we decided to capture the next person.

Tie Göttle to a chair and let him sit, then take the cloth bag he's wearing over his head.

Then my eyeballs moved.

Tight, black eyes spin.

It's to know where you are and your situation, and capture the last man who captured you, Shoji.

"Ngu...... Phew, come, you! This - Buha!

I got ahead of him before he screamed, beat him up.

My nose bones broke and dirty front tooth fragments flew all the way to the foot of the chair. I punched him once, and then bintered his cheeks with a bee and force. I don't even give him time to rest, I silently commit assault.

Göttle wandered into violence that he could not even master, and began to shake his head in an attempt to escape with grief and severe pain.

"Hino, ah..."

"Don't make a scene."

Forward bent Shoji turned his back sparingly while stopping his hand and at the same time allowing for awesome taste.

In a dark room, the only source of light was the candle's red flame.

The light in the circle was unreliable and flavored the gloomy image of torture.

Only a dim silhouette, Vermond arms in front of the door.

I didn't say anything, so I took a look at you.

"First Secretary Göttle. We know all about you. Older mothers, mistresses, positions, current addresses and villas. You know what that means? Anyway, it means I can. Ask on it. Do you know where the Chapter is?

"Oh...... Ugh, I don't know. Such a thing..."

I flashed my cheeks because they were shiny.

The patsy, dry sound echoes.

I even kept hitting left and right, so Göttle's cheeks swelled to his breasts. Her cheeks are rattled and blood is gushing out of her lips. My face, messed up by tears and snot, was begging forgiveness. I didn't mean to forgive you, I didn't mean to be forgiven. A gruesome, strong attitude will not break.

"We'll take your eyeballs. but it's up to you to help me finish after that. Talk to me. We don't choose the means if it's for a purpose."

"Hino... Ugh, the underground library... even we rarely set foot. True. Deep down, but out of control. Because of The Laughing Book."

"A laughing book?

"That's what we call the Chapter. Do what he says, and everything goes wrong. At first, he gave me a recipe for potions to curb aging. But they built something else along the way. It was too late to know that. He's having fun. So we used guardians. I made a mistake trying to use it."

Because of the confusion or the explanation of the tears got no guidelines, it was a disjunction.

Shoji stretched out his back and after a while of thinking, spoke to Vermond.

"What do you think?

"When walking inside, don't be a guide. Let's use it"

"I disagree."

Leskia with both legs on the ceiling - it was like a bat.

Dropping her blonde hair, she was watching as she put her arms around her, too.

Shoji, who expected to talk about good and evil, got up, but it was another matter that Leskia put out in her mouth.

"You don't feel like you can trust that person, do you? Threatening to move isn't right for you."

"I don't need to match your sexuality"

"Alas, the leader is me. Gray hair there, too. Copy that."

"I understand."

I didn't think they'd claim the leader of the robbers.

Shoji tried to argue, but when Leskia landed and confronted him from the front, he shut his mouth. casually, after looking down at her puffy shaky breasts, she chose to get in the mood.

Which way, I'm not going to follow much.

The silent Vermond also knows how to handle a carefree woman. If you look sideways and communicate your intentions, try to shrug your shoulders, though shallow.

Leskia took a tied man for a moment, pitiful but quick to re-hold.

Did you think they were controlling teenage girls with money? Whatever it is, it looks like my stomach is turning.

"The fact that the clerk can't even get his hands on it means you really want to get your hands on it, don't you?

"I think we should be well managed... Yes, even in the name of life... you guys, I'm not going to give it to the bandits. It is considered a treasure of the Demonic Church. You can never give it to me... well, if I find out I've helped, it's over."

Göttle's tail, which was hurt, was trembling and in a weak manner, but his pride and safekeeping without made him spit out the words.

Leskia put one hand on her hips and stepped closer to Göttle.

"So, what's the copy?

"Mmm..."

Reschia's appearance worked as a candy.

And Göttle is softening to unexpected suggestions. If it is the plight of captivity, and if it can escape the danger of life, there is a gap in my heart. A clear stray appeared on his nagging face.

"If you want to take a copy, fine, right? You're not in control, are you? We'll take control of you, so let me copy the recipe. Then everything will fit in circles."

"But"

"Dear Clerk, I need an excuse to keep the rogues in check. Besides, can I just take your neck and take the information directly from your brain, by magic?

Phew, he breathed a hotter exhale, and Leskia eared with an abomination on his neat face. Her cheeks are red, her eyes are thick, and she even feels slightly tinted.

I don't know, I feel like the atmosphere is swallowing me up and making me feel bad.

Gortle nodded frightened as he shook his shoulder to see if there was anything running on his spine.

Shoji was shuddered, but only Vermond hit the gavel seriously, "Well, there's no convulsion," he said.