I Was Reincarnated Into a World Where Chastity Is Reversed With the Ability to Read Minds, so I Decided to Completely Corrupt and Break the Adorable Saint Who Has Lewd Fantasies

Chapter 2: The Life of Saintess Momo—How a Deeply Faithful Girl Was Broken by Lust

My name is Momo Saint. Saint is the surname given to saintesses and saints, a mark of those who have abandoned their homes to serve only God.

I came from a poor family in the slums, and moreover, my father had children with many women, so in my early years, we struggled even to eat, and I remember always being ravenously hungry.

That was, when I actually experienced it, a hellish life beyond imagination, and so I know well the suffering of an empty stomach. Even now, it might have become a kind of trauma for me.

That was why it was fortunate that I had the talent to become a saintess candidate.

The talent discovered in me by the church’s secret magical artifact apparently shone brightly, and from that day on, the church took me in, and I gained a life where I no longer worried about food.

But that was also the beginning of a new hell.

Life as a saintess candidate in the church involved grueling daily studies, lessons in etiquette, performing rituals, and magical training, with no time to catch my breath…

Coming from a poor family, I stood out among the other saintess candidates, and they said many heartless things to me, hit me, hid my things, and subjected me to all sorts of awful treatment.

Now I can imagine that the other saintess candidates were also accumulating stress from the harsh life.

And I must have been a convenient outlet for that.

But for me, who was only about nine years old at the time, that hell was too unbearable…

To somehow hold together a heart that felt like it was falling apart, I gradually came to depend on the teachings of the holy scriptures themselves, which I was made to read for long hours every day as a saintess candidate.

Perhaps that was exactly the purpose of making the life of a saintess candidate so excessively harsh.

The stories in the holy scriptures were not all pleasant to the ear, but each one was filled with lessons and surprises, and while reading them, I felt a soothing clarity as if my soul were becoming transparent, and time and again, I felt as if my circumstances were being fully affirmed.

“God gives trials to people. They are trials too hard to bear for the weak, but that suffering itself is the blessing that draws the human soul closer to God.”

“Love all living creatures. Even those who strike you, even those who abuse you, love them. They, she, are living scriptures given by God to forge your soul strong and to teach you the value of kindness.”

“People all live to serve God. God punishes sinners who do not serve Him, so you need not worry about anything.”

Such teachings soaked into my brain like a sponge, and as a young girl, I endlessly deepened my faith.

Even in my free time, I devoured the holy scriptures until I had memorized the entire text, and when I passed the girls who bullied me, I smiled warmly at them. After all, God would surely punish them, so I had no need to worry!

The girls found such a me creepy, and strangely, the bullying gradually subsided.

Seeing that, I thought.

“God is watching me… the angels are watching me…!”

As a result of this boundless dependence on faith, I became able to perform rituals better than anyone, to understand the holy scriptures better than anyone, and to be kinder to people than anyone.

And finally, at the age of twelve, I received the title of this country’s one and only chosen being, the saintess.

My name is Momo Saint.

The girl purer than anyone, more faithful than anyone, loved by God more than anyone.

But what was unfortunate for me was—

That I became a saintess without ever experiencing the maddening, intense passion that every woman in this world goes through during puberty.

When I turned thirteen and truly awakened to sex, I began to feel my heart flutter at the sight of the lovely beautiful boys serving the church—

And I came to feel an utterly unknown, scorching sensation deep in my belly, a feeling like my head was enveloped in a hazy pink mist, an unbearably strong emotion.

I later learned from peeking at an erotic book confiscated from the female believers that it was—

Lust.

Its intensity was indescribable, irresistible, and I repeatedly let wild impulses rage in my mind to assault those beautiful boys.

When I heard the sounds of the boys changing in the church, I nearly went mad with the urge to burst in.

What held such a me back was the intense faith I had nurtured since childhood.

I was undeniably saved by God and aware that I depended on Him for everything, and for me, God was everything.

And that God said.

“Burn away evil, twisted desires. Desires become the fertilizer for new creation only when converted into healthy ash.”

“A woman who succumbs to desire and violates another person’s man, a man dedicated to God, will fall into hell.”

“Keep your body pure, your heart pure, and always maintain the innocence of a newborn child.”

For me, those teachings were revelations that took precedence over anything else, the very love of God, and the foundation that solidified my very identity.

But—

Day after day, in an environment where I couldn’t even comfort myself, I kept accumulating that pent-up, restless lust—

Day after day, boiling that blazing lust every time I saw the smooth napes or fingertips or bodies of the beautiful boys or priests serving the church—

Enduring and enduring and enduring—

Holding back and holding back and holding back—

Until one day, when I turned sixteen, finally, something inside me broke.

“This can’t! There’s no way I can endure it! This shit!!!”

…I’m sorry, God.

I want to experience love.

Or rather, to die without ever having that erotic intimacy that comes after—

No matter how precious you are to me, I don’t think I can bear it.

I’m at my limit.

It’s the limit.

Even though I suffered so much from this lust, even though I endured agony so intense I wanted to die, the one who didn’t help me was you, wasn’t it?

—For the sake of satisfying this desire, I will take every means at my disposal.

In this world to begin with, men are precious existences.

Ordinary women, no matter how much they crave men, no matter how they burn with longing love, no matter how they seethe with lust, cannot fulfill those desires or realize their romances.

So-called weak women make up nine out of ten women in this world. Since there are only one in ten men for every woman, it’s the natural outcome. Some men have relationships with multiple women, so the numbers might actually be a bit better in practice… but including whether that’s happiness or not, it’s a harsh reality for me.

But fortunately—I am this country’s one and only saintess.

A being who wields honor and power at will, whom everyone in the country, men and women alike, respects and kneels before.

If such a me picks up just one poor beautiful boy, raises him to my liking, and does something naughty with him, who could possibly reproach me for it?

Wouldn’t that be acceptable?

From childhood, I’ve spent era after era of unfulfilled hunger, painful bullying, agonizing lust, era after era of suffering and suffering and suffering.

Surely God would forgive me for that much, right…?

And so I walked through the streets—

…and discovered one beautiful boy collapsed there.

An orphan who looked utterly poor at a glance.

Around fifteen years old, perhaps?

For me, it was an encounter that was too ideal.

I thought this must be proof that God was cheering me on.

I immediately bought a delicious-smelling garlic bread from a nearby stall.

I know full well the pain of starvation.

Surely, this bread with its enticing aroma would be like God himself to the boy.

In that case, it was inevitable that he would come to worship me blindly.

While desperately suppressing the grin threatening to form on my lips, I held out the garlic bread before the boy’s eyes.