“Two hundred thousand Aimier?”

Muen lifted a brow.

“Now that’s interesting.”

“I’m sure this must seem laughable to Mister Bruce, but for us, it truly is no small sum.”

The old nun let out what had to be her fifth sigh by now.

“You’ve seen the orphanage as it is. There is absolutely no way we could ever come up with that much money. So it isn’t that I’m heartless and refusing to save her. I truly can’t save her. In fact, I very much want to—”

“No, don’t misunderstand. What I find ‘interesting’ isn’t your orphanage. It’s this so-called ‘cutting the line.’”

Muen walked over to the window and looked out across the vast district. Amid the clustered mass of buildings, the cathedral dome was still the most conspicuous of all, so grand it was almost overwhelming.

“If the Church is short-handed and treatment requires waiting in line, then logically speaking, there’s nothing to criticize there. The Mother Superior was right just now. Even the Church can’t save everyone.

“But... this cutting the line. Don’t you think it’s strange?”

Muen turned back.

“You can skip the queue if you pay money. Is that really the kind of thing the Church would do? If word of that got out, the damage to the Church’s reputation would be enormous.”

“That, I wouldn’t know.”

The old nun lowered her head, her expression hidden from view.

“It was only a hint from Kore Cathedral. I... I’m just an ordinary old nun. I don’t know the details.”

“Kore Cathedral?”

“It’s the church responsible for administering this district. Saint Blancfazesiya is far too large for all its affairs to be managed directly by the central cathedral.”

The old nun paused.

“So beneath the cathedral, there are many smaller churches responsible for different areas, rather like the Nine Holy Halls under the Holy City. Only there are far more of these churches. In Saint Blancfazesiya alone, there are dozens of district churches like that.”

“I see...”

Muen nodded in understanding.

So this absurd condition for “cutting the line” was not some official Church-wide standard, but something coming from a district church.

Which meant the rotten flesh of corruption—was it limited to a few remote edges and corners, or did it reach all the way to the core?

Or, to make an even bolder guess, perhaps it was not merely a piece of “rotten flesh” at all.

Muen walked over to the bed and looked down at the girl curled beneath the threadbare quilt. She was frail beyond belief, pale-faced, and even her breathing was weak, yet her clear eyes still revealed a stubborn resilience.

The girl had not been crushed by illness.

And before the sickbed, the skinny little brat stared at Muen nervously like a guarded little beast, as though the instant Muen made a single move harmful to the girl, Pero would throw himself at him without hesitation.

Apparently, the little brat had not been crushed by suffering, either.

Two strong children depending on each other. Perhaps that was exactly why, in a condition this severe, the girl had managed to hold on until now.

“Not bad.”

Muen praised him once, then before the boy could react, suddenly reached out and ruffled his hair into a bird’s nest.

“Since fate has arranged this encounter so neatly, I can donate one million to this orphanage.”

“O-one... one million?”

The old nun’s eyes flew wide open.

“R-really? Is that true?”

She had thought that if the donation reached around one hundred thousand, it would already be more than enough. She had never imagined it would exceed her guess by this much.

A million was enough to keep the entire orphanage running for a very long time. There would even be money left over to repair the children’s old dormitory, so they would not have to suffer through leaking roofs whenever it rained.

“Of course it’s true. I have no reason to lie to you. One million isn’t any great amount to me.”

Muen said,

“But there’s one condition attached to this donation.”

“What condition?”

“It’s simple. Two hundred thousand of it must be used as this girl’s treatment fee.”

Muen pointed directly at the girl on the bed.

That made the old nun freeze for a moment, and even Pero—who had just been about to retaliate after getting his hair messed up—stared in stunned disbelief.

For someone who had recently still been running around every day selling newspapers for two Aimier a copy, it was clearly very hard to understand the reality of a two-hundred-thousand-Aimier sum being solved so easily.

“More importantly, when she goes in for treatment, I’m going with her,” Muen continued.

“With her? But according to the rules, only a guardian is allowed to accompany her.” The old nun looked troubled.

“That’s simple. I’ll become her guardian.”

Muen clearly did not find that difficult at all.

“Since she’s an orphan, this ought to be easy enough to arrange.”

“That’s true, but...”

“So you want to be my sister’s dad?”

While the old nun was still hesitating, Pero—who had only just barely regained his wits—suddenly blurted it out.

“Huh?”

Muen stared blankly.

“What the hell?”

“You’re throwing down two hundred thousand to treat my sister, and now you’re saying you want to be her guardian. Doesn’t that just mean you want to be her dad?”

Pero threw himself protectively in front of the girl and gritted his teeth.

“I’m telling you, if you’re some kind of pervert who wants to satisfy himself by doing unspeakable things to women, then you’d better give up on that idea right now! A mere... a mere two hundred thousand—I’d never agree to it! I wouldn’t agree no matter how much money you offered!”

“...”

Muen was speechless.

He had thought the little brat had suddenly come up with some earth-shattering idea because of a flash of genius.

Turns out it was just filthy gutter trash in his head.

And a particularly weird variety of it, at that.

“Read less roadside garbage fiction.”

Muen flicked him on the forehead, then said sternly,

“And one more thing. Don’t go spouting nonsense like that. If it somehow gets out...”

“W-what happens then?” Pero clutched his forehead, eyes watery.

“Heh, nothing much...”

Muen tilted his head up at a forty-five-degree angle and gazed at the ceiling in melancholy.

“It’s just that if some absurd rumor gets out that I suddenly have a daughter... then by tomorrow, you’d probably find me and this girl chopped into pieces with a cleaver at the bottom of some nameless river.”

“???”

...

...

Kore Cathedral.

Hall of Sacraments.

A faint incense drifted across the murals painted with sacred grace, making each miracle once depicted there seem as though it were descending into the world all over again.

And at the very front of the hall, the exquisite statue of the Goddess, glowing with golden luster, still held both hands against her chest and gazed with compassion upon the suffering people of the world.

“All right.” 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Bishop Kore let out a small breath and revealed a kindly smile.

“The filth on your body has now been completely removed.”

“R-really?”

The beautiful woman sat up from the stone platform bathed in Holy Light. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing ragged, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) and she shyly raised a hand to cover the ample spring scenery fully exposed across her chest.

“The demon that was possessing me... has it really been destroyed?”

“Of course.”

Bishop Kore nodded. Though his hair was already graying, the holy aura radiating from him still gave rise to an instinctive sense of peace and reassurance.

“That demon was a terrible thing. It possessed you and was stealing your essence and blood every moment of every day. That is the true reason you’ve been unable to conceive all these years. But now, I have completely destroyed the demon and thoroughly cleansed away all that filth. You need not trouble yourself over such matters anymore.”

“Really? I...”

The woman touched her lower abdomen.

“I’ll be able to have children in the future?”

“You will. You will have a healthy child.”

With a casual wave of his hand, Bishop Kore let another shower of pure Holy Light fall upon her, filling her with warmth deep in her flesh.

“I guarantee it.”

“That’s wonderful...”

The woman’s eyes brimmed with tears, her face blooming like a peach blossom.

“That’s wonderful. Thank you... thank you, Lord Bishop. You’re my benefactor. I don’t even know how I could ever repay this kindness.”

“I am the Goddess’s messenger. Spreading the Goddess’s grace among the people is my duty. You have no need to thank me, and no need to speak of repaying any kindness. This is what I ought to do.”

Bishop Kore toyed with the Holy Light cross hanging before his chest, while his calm, benevolent gaze—utterly free of any visible lechery—swept over the woman’s chest.

“However, I should remind you of one thing. Although the demon and the filth have been eradicated, the deficiencies in your body have not yet been fully resolved. You’ll need to come see me a few more times after this. I will personally use Holy Light to nourish your body.”

“Really?”

Already, being personally received by the bishop and having the demon inside her eradicated felt like an immense stroke of fortune to the woman. She had never imagined that the bishop would be kind enough to personally oversee even the matter of restoring what she had lost.

She was overwhelmed with gratitude on the spot.

“T-thank you so much.”

A certain pair of jade-white peaks trembled continuously, enough to dazzle the eye, and Bishop Kore immediately lowered his gaze.

“This is all as it should be. Only next time, my Holy Light ritual will go a little deeper, so I ask that you prepare yourself.”

“Mhm, I can endure it. Please, Lord Bishop, don’t hold back on my account.”

The woman happily got dressed, happily took her leave, and right before going, did not forget to add one more sentence.

“Lord Bishop, I’ll have my husband make an additional donation to Kore Cathedral. I hope you’ll accept it.”

“I mustn’t. I’ve already accepted more than enough payment from you...”

“That’s my husband thanking you. It’s separate from me!”

“...Is that so? Then please convey to your husband that the Goddess blesses him.”

“I certainly will!”

The woman was already far away, yet she still remembered to turn back and wave. Only once she had fully left cathedral grounds did the warm smile on Bishop Kore’s face turn into a sneer.

“Stupid woman.”

Bishop Kore walked to the side and picked up the crystal card lying on the table.

Church Bank. Five hundred thousand Aimier.

And that was merely the “treatment fee” the woman had casually paid once.

“As expected of Viscount Trafl’s daughter. Her degree of ‘generosity’ is truly admirable.”

Bishop Kore licked his somewhat dry lips and had already begun looking forward to their next “deeper exchange.”

Of course, by then, there would be no need for such “filthy” monetary transactions.

Compared to transactions of money, he much preferred exchanges of the “soul.”

“Is there anything else arranged for today?”

Bishop Kore returned the crystal card to the tray. A nun attendant immediately stepped forward to straighten his robes and clean away the woman’s lingering scent.

“One more. The little girl from Sunshine Orphanage. Do you remember, Lord Bishop?”

“Sunshine Orphanage?”

Bishop Kore thought for a moment.

“No impression. I have no time to remember trivial matters like that.”

“It was a rare illness. At the time, the ‘queue-jumping fee’ was set at two hundred thousand Aimier.”

“Oh? They managed to scrape it together?”

“Yes.”

“Now that’s interesting.”

With a light flick of his finger, the scent of the incense in the censer suddenly changed, shifting from something sweet and suggestive to the smell of medicinal herbs.

“Then let them come in. Two hundred thousand isn’t much, but for the final case of the day, earning a little extra is acceptable. Of course... more importantly, one must never violate the Goddess’s mercy, must one?”

“Yes, Lord Bishop. I’ll go make the arrangements at once.”

The nun bowed and withdrew.

And so very soon, the gravely ill girl was wheeled into the Hall of Sacraments—a place she could never have entered before, no matter what—and was allowed to receive the Goddess’s grace directly.

And Bishop Kore also met her guardian.

“You are...?”

“You could say... adoptive father.”

The Slavic man with the deep-set features nodded modestly, every inch the picture of courtesy and breeding.

“Ah, adoptive father.”

Bishop Kore understood at once. No wonder they had suddenly come up with two hundred thousand. So they had found a backer.

At that thought, his eyes suddenly narrowed.

He noticed that this courteous Slavic man was obviously very well-off.

He held a pure gold cane in one hand. Nearly every finger wore gem-set rings. Even his formal attire—unless Bishop Kore was mistaken—was decorated with precious metals of considerable value.

Bishop Kore licked the corner of his mouth and began to feel his throat go dry again.

Clearly, another stupid fat sheep had walked right into the trap.