World Rejector

Chapter 6: Saint White

Outside New Silicon Valley, far beyond the reach of neon towers and artificial skies, lay the ruins of what was once the European countryside.

Five hundred years ago, before the Great Calamity reshaped the world, this land had been fertile and alive. Now, only broken earth and silent stone remained.

At its center stood a temple untouched by time—as if reality itself had chosen to avert its eyes from this place.

This was a sanctuary for those who despised Neo Silicon Valley.

A refuge for those who rejected modern civilization.

They called themselves the White Cult.

Inside the grand chamber, candlelight flickered against ancient walls carved with unfamiliar symbols. The air was thick with incense and reverence.

Dozens of robed figures knelt in perfect silence, their foreheads pressed to the cold stone floor.

At the altar stood a young woman clad in pristine white vestments.

Her silver hair flowed like moonlight beneath the flames. Her blue eyes, calm and distant, reflected neither warmth nor cruelty—only serenity.

Her hands were clasped delicately, as if in prayer.

This woman was Saint White.

The revered leader of the White Cult.

The chosen voice of their so-called god.

From the outside, she was holiness incarnate.

But beneath that gentle facade, something flickered.

A kneeling disciple crawled forward, drenched in sweat, his body trembling violently.

“The… the operation in New Silicon Valley…” he stammered.

“It has failed. The NewType drug was stolen by unknown individuals.”

The chamber grew colder.

Saint White’s expression did not change. She exhaled slowly, as if savoring the moment.

“Is that so?” she asked softly.

Her voice was gentle—like a mother humming a lullaby to a restless child.

“Perhaps this is merely a trial from the heavens. A lesson in patience,” she continued.

“Do you not agree?”

The disciple nodded frantically, his neck jerking as though his life depended on it.

Saint White closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing silence to stretch unnaturally long.

“It is unfortunate,” she said at last.

“But hardly unexpected. The hands of the unworthy always falter.”

She turned slightly away from the altar.

“That man was nothing more than a tool. A means to an end.”

Her lips barely parted as she whispered—just loud enough for the nearest follower to hear.

“Shit… that trash is so useless.”

The words pierced the silence like a blade.

One follower froze.

His breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, filled with something between horror and awakening.

“S-Saint White…?” he whispered.

Saint White did not turn around.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips. Slowly, she faced him once more, hands clasped again in feigned holiness.

“What did you hear, dear one?” she asked.

The disciple swallowed hard.

“N-Nothing, Saint White.”

Her serene smile widened.

“Lying is a sin,” she said softly.

“And sinners… sinners go to hell.”

His knees trembled. His lips quivered as he tried to speak again.

“I-It must have been my imagination… Saint White would never—”

“Ahh, that’s right!” she suddenly clapped her hands together.

“I am the purest human in the world!”

Her laugh rang out—melodious at first, then warped, growing louder and more manic.

“Hahahahahaha~!”

Snap.

Crack.

Snap.

A sickening sound echoed through the chamber.

The disciple’s body convulsed violently. His limbs twisted in impossible directions as an invisible force crushed him from within. His scream was cut short, his body collapsing into a grotesque mass of broken flesh.

No one moved.

No one dared breathe.

They all feared this Saint.

Saint White brushed imaginary dust from her robe, her tranquil smile returning as she addressed the crowd.

“I hate people who don’t give straightforward answers,” she said calmly.

“Communication is important. At the very least, I want honesty. Never lie to me.”

She casually pulled out a smartphone.

The believers gasped.

In this temple, technology was forbidden. No one—except her—was allowed to possess such a thing.

Murmurs spread like disease.

“Stop whispering,” Saint White said flatly.

“I was chosen by god. That makes me an exception.”

Her gaze hardened.

“Remain silent… or you will end up like the liar I just killed.”

The chamber fell completely still.

“That’s right,” Sister Angelina said quickly.

“Those chosen by god always receive special privileges.”

Saint White smiled warmly.

“You’re so smart, Sister Angelina. Everyone should learn from you.”

She gently patted Angelina’s head.

The believers lowered their heads, mouths shut tight.

Saint White tapped her screen.

“Hello~”

The call connected.

“Hello… u-u-u-u-um… S-Saint White?” a woman’s voice answered nervously.

“There’s no need to panic,” Saint White replied sweetly.

“I’m not going to kill you, Teacher Nana.”

“…May I ask why you’re calling?” Nana asked cautiously.

“You’re my spy in the city,” Saint White said.

“Of course I check on you from time to time.”

“But… you usually don’t read reports…”

“I get bored,” Saint White replied bluntly.

“Make them shorter next time.”

“…Yes.”

Saint White leaned against the altar.

“Before I hang up… prepare the children.”

Nana froze.

“I acquired a few samples of the drug that turns ordinary humans into NewTypes,” Saint White continued.

“I’d like to conduct experiments.”

“…The students?” Nana whispered.

“They’re only six years old!”

“They’re involved in this war,” Saint White said coldly.

“Children are pure. They must be nurtured early.”

Her voice softened unnaturally.

“We will create a NewType loyal to the cult. A divine weapon to cleanse the world.”

“…This isn’t right—”

“This is god’s plan,” Saint White interrupted.

“You’re not a sinner, Teacher Nana. You’ll be rewarded with heaven.”

Silence.

Arguing was pointless.

“…Understood,” Nana said weakly.

“For the greater good of humanity.”

“Good girl,” Saint White replied.

“Goodbye.”

The call ended.

Teacher Nana stared at her phone.

Her hands trembled.

The drug’s success rate was 0.001%.

That meant death—for almost all of them.

“My students…” she whispered.

“They’re too young. Their futures haven’t even begun…”

The classroom door opened.

“Teacher Nana! We’re going home now!”

The children waved happily.

She forced a smile and waved back—her heart tearing itself apart.

Saint White always got what she wanted.

And there was no escaping her gaze.