The Humbleism Crusade

Section 1: A New Gospel of Profit

Several years ago, before becoming a pastor, Simon was the High Executioner of the Humble Organization.

But after years of fighting and killing, he was getting tired of it all. It was starting to feel pointless.

One afternoon, Simon sat in the Humble Organization cafeteria, eating noodles while scrolling through the news on his phone.

A headline caught his attention.

FAMOUS PASTOR ACCUSED OF MOLESTING UNDERAGE GIRL

“What the hell… This is sick.”

Despite the scandal, some of the pastor’s most devoted followers were still defending him, insisting he had done nothing wrong.

Simon shook his head and scrolled down.

CHURCH LEADER CAUGHT MISUSING CHURCH DONATIONS

Apparently, the pastor had taken thousands of dollars in church donations, flown to Hawaii, and checked into a five-star hotel.

Further investigation revealed that he had also been visiting the Forbidden Garden once or twice a week, using church donations to pay for his visits.

“Oh, come on. That’s insane.”

Simon kept scrolling until a third headline caught his attention.

The article was about a religious leader who had spent years preaching that marriage and children were worldly distractions. He demanded that his followers abandon both and devote everything to God.

The leader himself had 127 wives and 384 children.

“SON OF A BITCH—!”

Simon nearly dropped his chopsticks.

Apparently, the man had started off naming his children normally. The first was John, the second was Joseph, and the third was James. Then he gave up. The fourth was simply Number 4, followed by Number 5, Number 6, and so on—all the way to his youngest child, Number 384.

Simon shook his head.

“Reality is more ridiculous than fiction sometimes.”

He returned to his noodles.

A cafeteria worker nearby glanced over while wiping down a table.

“Hey, Captain Simon. Relax. News is getting crazier every year.”

Simon looked at him.

The worker shrugged. “Last week I read about some believer who donated his own wife to his pastor.”

PFFFFT!

Simon sprayed a mouthful of noodles across the table.

“NO WAY! You’ve got to be joking!”

The worker sighed helplessly.

“Captain Simon, please be careful. I just cleaned that table.”

Simon wiped his mouth.

“Oh, my bad.”

The worker quietly began wiping the table again.

Simon returned to his phone, scrolling back up to read the articles once more.

For some reason, he suddenly found religion very interesting.

Section 2: The Birth of Humbleism

A few days later, inside a dim office, the senior members of the Humble Organization gathered around a large round table for a meeting.

Simon stood up and presented his proposal.

“Based on my research, religion has strong business potential. We can brainwash followers into making regular donations, creating a steady source of revenue while expanding our influence.”

Colin nodded. “Sounds legit.”

Simon continued. “To devote my full attention to this new venture, I’d like to resign as High Executioner and launch a religious division under the Humble Organization.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. “High Executioner is a very prestigious position. Are you sure you want to resign? Would you like more time to consider it?”

Simon shook his head.

“I’ve spent some time researching this. Young people nowadays are gullible and easily influenced. I’m sure we can make a fortune out of it. So I’ve made my decision.”

Colin nodded. “All right. You have my approval.”

Brian sat with his arms crossed. “A religion? Sounds kind of dumb to me.”

Michael adjusted his gold-framed glasses.

“I must agree. Young people these days can be rather foolish. I have no objections.”

Brian leaned forward. “Well, before we move forward, we should agree on a name. How about… Humble Your Mind? Or Humble Your Soul?”

Nobody responded.

Michael adjusted his glasses again. “I’d like to propose a name. How about the Humble Association for Spiritual Enlightenment and Salvation?”

Colin glanced at him.

“TL;DR.”

Simon rubbed his chin. “How about just… Humbleism?”

Before anyone could answer, the church across the street began ringing its bells.

Dong. Dong. Dong…

It was noon.

Colin immediately stood up. “I’m hungry. Let’s get lunch. Whatever name you want, just pick one. I don’t care.”

Brian and Michael stood up with him, and the three headed straight for the door.

Simon picked up his pen. On the blank line beside ORGANIZATION NAME, he slowly wrote one word:

HUMBLEISM.

He stared at it for a moment, then nodded to himself.

And with absolutely no one left in the room to approve it, Humbleism was officially born.

Simon put down his pen and followed the others to lunch.

Section 3: The Naive Generation

A week later, Humbleism officially opened for business.

Simon and his lackeys spent the entire morning handing out flyers across Flushing City. Almost nobody was interested.

“No, thanks. Go away.”
“Get lost! I don’t have time for this!”
“Go fuck yourself!”
Etc., etc., and etc.

By noon, Simon had accomplished almost nothing and was growing frustrated.

On his way to a nearby food court, Simon handed one last flyer to a skinny geek with thick glasses. The geek glanced at it.

“Humbleism? The name is stupid. You’re stupid. And your mom is probably stupid too.”

He threw his head back and burst out laughing.

“HAHAHAHAHA—”

BAM!

Simon punched him in the face.

The geek shot backward, skidded dozens of meters down the sidewalk, and disappeared straight down the stairs of a subway entrance.

Simon watched him vanish.

“Insolent.”

Then he continued toward the food court.

Simon sat down, ordered some food, and started eating. As he ate, he noticed a group of college students gathered around a large television nearby.

They were watching Yu-Gi-Oh.

On the screen, a trading card slammed onto the battlefield. A massive monster burst out of it as a giant 3D hologram, roaring above the arena while beams of light flashed around its body.

The college students went wild.

“WHOA!”

“That’s fucking awesome!”

One of them pointed excitedly at the screen.

“I’m totally gonna buy myself a deck of children’s trading cards.”

Another college student nodded seriously.

“Of course. Children’s trading cards are perfect for grown-ups like us.”

Simon stopped eating.

He looked at the college students, then at the giant holographic monster. He glanced down at the Humbleism flyer still in his hand, then back at the television.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

A few days later, the giant television in the food court was gone. In its place stood a makeshift stage decorated with golden curtains.

Behind the curtains, Simon’s lackeys secretly prepared smoke machines, flashing lights, and hidden wires.

Meanwhile, the same group of college students gathered around the stage.

“Yo, where’s the Yu-Gi-Oh screen?”

Before anyone could answer, thick smoke rolled across the stage.

Suddenly, powerful golden lights burst from behind the curtains as Simon, dressed in a shiny white robe, slowly rose into the air with his arms spread wide. A brilliant golden glow surrounded his head, making him look almost divine.

“BEHOLD! THE HOLY LIGHT OF HUMBLEISM!”

The students stared in amazement.

“HOLY SHIT! HE’S FLYING!”

“Dude! This is even better than Yu-Gi-Oh!”

One of them immediately dropped to his knees.

“I BELIEVE! WHERE DO I SIGN UP?!”

Several others rushed toward the registration table. Within minutes, a long line had formed.

From that day on, Simon and his lackeys began putting on similar shows all over Flushing City. New followers poured into Humbleism like a flood, especially high school and college students.

Simon watched another wave of young followers rush over to sign up and smirked.

“Kids these days…”

His expression turned serious as he slowly shook his head.

“Too young, too simple, sometimes naive.”

Section 4: The Art of Language

One afternoon, Simon and several of his followers were eating noodles at Ramen Hood.

As Simon raised his chopsticks, a man at the next table noticed a Humbleism flyer lying beside his bowl.

The man looked at Simon, raised his middle finger, and shouted, “Hey, asshole! Fuck your Humbleism!”

Simon stopped eating and turned to one of his followers.

“Go slap that guy.”

The follower hesitated.

“But Pastor Simon, violence is against the teachings of Humbleism!”

SLAP!

Simon slapped him so hard that he flew off his chair and landed unconscious on the floor.

Simon returned to his noodles.

A few minutes later, something at another table caught his attention.

A skinny man in a pink shirt was standing before a beautiful young woman.

Calling him a man was almost too generous. He looked more like a diseased animal that had escaped from a laboratory.

His face was swollen and covered in angry red pimples, dark raised moles, and patches of flaky eczema. A massive zit sat right on the tip of his nose.

Simon stared at the creature.

“Holy shit. I haven’t seen anything that ugly in years,” he muttered.

The creature placed a hand over his heart and began speaking.

“My beloved lady, in the name of eternal love, beneath the sacred light of heaven, I swear to devote my heart and soul to you! Let our spirits unite in everlasting harmony!”

Simon nearly laughed.

But then the woman’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’ve never met a man who understands love so deeply.”

She threw her arms around the creature and kissed him passionately.

At the next table, a kindly old gentleman was quietly enjoying his noodles with his wife.

PFFFFT!

The old man sprayed a mouthful of noodles all over his wife’s face.

The old lady wiped her face, looked at the kissing couple, and shouted,

“SON OF A BITCH! That’s practically bestiality!”

SNAP!

Simon snapped his chopsticks clean in half.

“Oh shit. That foul animal actually got kissed?” he muttered.

He stared at the creature, then at the beautiful woman.

Something had just clicked.

Simon slowly put down his broken chopsticks and stood up.

He straightened his shirt, placed one hand over his heart, and raised his chin, copying the creature’s posture.

“Ahem!”

Simon spread his arms wide.

“In the name of Humbleism, under the holy light of humility! This wicked man has insulted our sacred faith! Such evil cannot go unpunished!”

His voice grew louder.

“May the heavens grant you the divine slapping power! Cast away your fear and doubt!”

Simon pointed at the man who had insulted him.

“You—the guy with the small eyes! Rise and carry out your sacred duty! Slap that sinner in the name of Humbleism!”

The small-eyed follower declared,

“My heart is humble, but my slap shall be merciless!”

His body began trembling.

His tiny eyes widened.

Wider.

And wider.

Within seconds, his eyes had swollen to the size of table tennis balls, bulging so far out of their sockets that they looked ready to pop.

Still seated, he planted one foot firmly against the floor and gave a powerful push.

SCREEEEEECH!

His chair shot across the restaurant, its legs scraping against the floor.

SLAP!

The follower delivered a powerful slap to the man who had insulted Simon, sending him flying out of his seat.

The man landed unconscious several meters away.

Without getting up, the follower pushed off the floor with one foot again.

SCREEEEEECH!

His chair slid straight back to Simon’s table.

He calmly returned to eating his noodles, his enormous eyes still bulging.

Simon stared at him for a moment.

Then a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

The Art of Language has been acquired.

Later that afternoon, Simon was walking down the street when he noticed a woman holding a tiny poodle.

He approached her with a friendly smile.

“What a cute little thing. Mind if I touch it?”

The woman smiled back.

“Oh, of course!”

Simon immediately reached out and placed his hand on her breast.

SLAP!

The woman slapped him across the face.

“YOU PERV!”

Simon held his cheek, looking genuinely offended.

“Yeah, you said yes. That’s called consent.”

Section 5: The Art of Marketing

As Humbleism grew, donations poured in. Simon wasted no time investing the money in advertising.

Soon, Humbleism ads were everywhere—on social media, billboards, websites, and even on the inside of public restroom stall doors, forcing people to stare at Pastor Simon’s face for a good ten minutes while taking a shit.

At Sakura Spa, Amy was in the middle of a private session with a young man when she suddenly stopped, cockblocking him at the worst possible moment.

“Hold on. Ten seconds for our sponsor.”

“What?”

Amy smiled.

“Youngsters, sex can satisfy your body, but only Humbleism can satisfy your soul. Join Humbleism today. Humility is amazing.”

Ten seconds later, she resumed as if nothing had happened.

The young man joined Humbleism the following week.

Meanwhile, at Victoria’s Secret, a woman named Betty was shopping for a bra. She had short hair, a square jaw, thick glasses, and a muscular build.

She picked up a pink padded bra and noticed a promotional message attached to it.

“In the name of Humbleism, we shall support you, just like this bra supports your saggy breasts.”

Betty read the message. Her eyes immediately lit up.

“What a wonderful religion,” she whispered.

She bought the bra.

By Sunday, Betty was sitting in the front row at Humbleism Church, wearing her new bra.

And so, through aggressive marketing and an endless supply of donations, Humbleism continued to spread across Flushing City.

Section 6: Dawn of the Crusade

Back in the present day, Simon sat at Ramen Hood inside SkyView Mall, quietly eating his noodles.

He rubbed his chin.

“Business is booming… but we’ve hit a ceiling. How the hell do I take this thing to the next level?” he muttered.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from the food court.

BAM!

Simon looked up.

Across the food court, Canelo had just sent Robinson crashing into a row of chairs.

Two gangsters hurried over, picked up Robinson’s battered body, and carried him away.

Canelo jumped onto a table and addressed the terrified shopkeepers.

“Yo, listen up, motherfuckers! Robinson’s out! This mall belongs to me now!”

He spread his arms.

“From now on, every store pays me protection money every damn month! You don’t pay? I’ll piss all over your fucking store! Got it?!”

The shopkeepers nodded nervously.

Simon stopped eating.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

Three days later, hundreds of Humbleism followers gathered in the parking lot behind the church.

A huge banner hung above them.

HUMBLEISM CRUSADE ARMY

Simon stood before the recruits with his hands behind his back, his enormous man boobs stretching against his shirt.

“Brothers and sisters! In the months ahead, we shall build a mighty army in the name of Humbleism! We shall bring the holy light of humility to every shopping mall in Flushing City, take control of their territories, and collect protection fees for the glory of our sacred faith!”

He raised his hand.

“Now tell me, what do we do if a shopkeeper refuses to pay?”

Several voices rose from the crowd.

“Pray for him?”
“Forgive him?”
“Help him get a loan?”

Suddenly, someone shouted from the back.

“Break his kneecaps!”

Simon immediately pointed toward the voice.

“Excellent! Totally correct! That’s my mind puppet! Excellent!”

Training began immediately.

Hundreds of followers ran laps around the parking lot. Others practiced punches and kicks, while some beat the living shit out of one another with folding chairs and jagged halves of broken beer bottles.

Halfway through a lap, one follower suddenly collapsed face-first onto the pavement.

He stopped moving.

Simon walked over, glanced at the body, and casually pushed it into a nearby pile of trash with his foot.

The other runners slowed down, staring at the motionless follower.

Simon raised his hand.

“In the name of Humbleism! The Almighty is watching your every step! Let neither weakness nor exhaustion stand in the way of your sacred duty! Run, my children! Run toward salvation!”

The followers immediately picked up their pace, running as if they’d been injected with adrenaline.

A few moments later, another follower collapsed.

Simon sighed.

He walked over and kicked him into the same trash pile.

Under the blessing of the mighty man boobs, the Crusade Army grew stronger day by day.