"For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?"
— Matthew 16:26
Part I – The Voice of Hell
The rain had stopped, but the air still smelled of wet earth and death.
Samuel walked through the back alley of an underground club, where alcohol flowed like a river and lives were easily lost. His black hood was pulled low, and beneath his trench coat, the Bible rested open in his left hand.
"Stand up," he said without emotion.
Before him, kneeling among puddles of blood and trash, was Victor Lang — former mob enforcer and key witness in the trial that sent one of the city's cruelest crime lords to prison. He had betrayed his organization… and now he paid the price.
"Please… don't kill me," Victor begged, wiping blood from his nose. "I… I helped take them down! I'm a protected witness!"
Samuel stepped closer, his pace steady — like a priest entering a confessional.
"That doesn't save you," Samuel replied. "Only God can do that. And He gave you time… and you wasted it."
"I'm nobody for you to judge!" Victor shouted, trying to rise.
Samuel pointed the gun directly at his chest.
"I am the echo of your sleeping conscience. I am the shadow of your sins. I am the last minister you will ever see before facing the One who truly can forgive you… or condemn you."
Victor trembled. His breath came in short gasps.
"Confess," Samuel ordered. "Confess Jesus Christ as your Savior… and die in peace."
"No! You're insane!" Victor screamed, backing away. "There's no salvation for guys like us!"
Samuel lowered his gaze. He closed his eyes for a moment.
"Maybe you're right," he said. "But it's not for me to decide."
And he fired.
Part II – The Disciple's Doubt
That same morning, inside the church.
Lucas Kane, the young idealistic police officer, arrived as he did every Sunday. He wore casual clothes, but always kept his gun hidden under his jacket. He was a man of faith — and also of law.
He sat in the second row, watching Samuel step onto the pulpit. He couldn't help but admire the pastor. Samuel had a unique way of speaking about love, mercy, redemption… yet something in his eyes unsettled Lucas.
"Brothers and sisters," Samuel began, "today we speak of the vanity of the world. Of how many seek justice with their own hands… and end up staining them with blood."
Lucas frowned. Something about those words struck him.
"Many believe they can take God's place," Samuel continued. "That they can punish, judge, and kill in His name. But only He has the right to do so. Only He can give life… and take it away."
"Then why do you do it?" Lucas thought, never taking his eyes off him.
Part III – Broken Memories
Later, in the sacristy, Samuel was alone. He removed his pastoral robe and opened a secret drawer in his desk. Inside, he kept a yellowed photograph of his family.
His father, strong and bearded, preaching in a small rural chapel. His mother, smiling as she prepared food for the poor. His two younger brothers, playing with a dog whose name he could no longer remember.
He slammed the drawer shut. Took a deep breath.
"Forgive me," he whispered. "Forgive me for not being stronger. For not being a better man."
A single tear fell onto the wooden desk.
He pressed the Bible against his chest, as if it were a shield.
"Father… if this is sin… then let it be my cross."
"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."
— Matthew 6:21