“Thank you, Saint, and this young lady as well… anyway, thank you very much.”
Luna hugged the basket of bread to her chest, hurriedly thanked the two of them, and then left.
Watching her retreating figure, Hailey felt a little unhappy.
That guy was clearly just a thug looking for trouble—so why didn’t she just make a move?
After all, she was a Saint.
Surely he wouldn’t dare hit her, right?
“What are you thinking about? Are you sulking because I didn’t intervene?”
While she was still feeling frustrated, a piece of bread was suddenly stuffed into her mouth.
The malty aroma and sweet taste temporarily calmed her restless emotions, though her hands—
Idelila withdrew her hand, lightly licking the crumbs left on her fingers.
She seemed reluctant to stop, gently touching her lips with her fingers, leaving behind a faint tingling sensation.
Hiss—why is it that when I see her licking her fingers, it feels like what’s being eaten isn’t the bread… but me, completely washed and peeled clean?
That’s kind of scary…
Wait a second—why did I accept being fed so naturally?
Suddenly remembering that she still hadn’t cooled down, Hailey turned her head again, preparing to deliberately lower the wheelchair and slip away, leaving her behind for a bit—
“Be good, Hailey. Listen to me. Evil people will be dealt with by other evil people. There’s no need to dirty your beautiful hands.”
These hands… weren’t they made based on yours?
No matter how pretty they are, yours must still be prettier…
And what does “evil people will be dealt with by other evil people” even mean?
She didn’t know what kind of scheme the Saint was plotting again, but still…
Chew, chew…
This bread really does taste…
Chew, chew…
…pretty good.
Like her mother, Luna was a devout believer of the church.
Every week during worship, the clear and gentle murmurs heard in prayer belonged to her voice—Idelila and Hailey were very familiar with it.
And perhaps out of concern for the still-young Saint, after every service, a basket of bread with a note attached could always be found tucked away in a corner of the church.
“Even if the Saint is very capable, she still can’t do her job properly on an empty stomach.”
So when Miss Luna—who always took such good care of her—was threatened by bad people, the warm-hearted Hailey couldn’t help feeling indignant.
Idelila gently patted her hand, signaling her to relax.
“…Okay.”
She had originally been thinking about secretly wiping out those scum who dared to ignore Hailey later that night… but leaving her in such a dejected mood wasn’t a solution either.
Fine, then—
“Hailey, push me out to get some fresh air. Let’s go to the church.”
The church…
Why does this feel like going back to the office to work overtime on a day off? And if the two of us appear together, won’t other people start getting suspicious?
Today was the church’s day of rest.
According to the doctrine, this was the day the Goddess herself took time to rest.
Even believers were not supposed to disturb the Goddess’s brief moment of repose.
So when Hailey pushed the Saint into the church, the great hall—usually filled with worshippers—was completely empty, with no one daring to break the silence.
Only an old gatekeeper responsible for cleaning remained, leisurely tending to the rare tranquility of the church hall.
The old man stood atop a ladder, carefully wiping dust from the Goddess’s statue—dust that the mischievous wind had left behind—treating it as though he were cleaning a one-of-a-kind work of art.
And indeed, it was a work of art.
The Goddess’s features were carved with vivid realism.
It was said that one day, as everyone prayed, a beam of sunlight shone through the church windows.
Bathed in that light, the statue seemed almost alive.
Even her gaze appeared filled with a benevolent, gentle love for all people.
“Because the face of the Goddess’s statue resembles the faces of the Saints throughout the generations, people call the Saint a miracle of the Goddess, huh…”
Idelila smiled as she looked at the dazzling statue.
Yet for some reason, beneath that gentle expression lurked a trace of mockery.
Good girl, good girl… Hailey really doesn’t need to come into contact with these things too much.
The church and the Saint were never as holy and beautiful as they appear on the outside.
“Hey—don’t pat my head every time you’re trying to change the subject…”
Noticing someone enter, the old man’s face stiffened as he prepared to shoo them away.
But when he squinted and recognized Hailey’s face, his expression immediately softened into that of a kind elder.
Aside from the upper ranks within the church, none of the staff knew about Hailey being a substitute.
They all treated her as the true Saint.
“Oh my, Saint, your body is so frail—why aren’t you resting properly? Yet you still come to watch an old man like me working… what a sin, truly.”
Ran—an old gatekeeper who had worked odd jobs in the church for decades—had no background and no real name.
All he ever had was the single character “Ran,” a symbol of his quiet obscurity.
Only then did he notice the Saint in the wheelchair.
He looked at her with some curiosity, examining her closely, as if he had sensed something unusual.
Feeling a little guilty, Hailey instinctively wanted to block his view.
Idelila gently placed her hand over the back of Hailey’s hand—like she was soothing her unease, or silently telling her: It’s
alright, Hailey.
Don’t worry.
I’m here.
“This old man’s eyes aren’t what they used to be. I didn’t recognize her at first—this young lady is…?”
“I’m the Saint’s pen pal. It’s my first time visiting this place today. Unfortunately, I can’t see.”
Unable to clearly see Hailey’s face… just what kind of adorable face does that child have, one so delicious—
…
Pfft. Almost forgot.
Hailey and I have the exact same face.
Idelila deliberately put on a disappointed expression and reached out to gently touch Hailey’s cheek.
It felt a little ticklish, but Hailey didn’t stop her, letting her act out that regretful look.
“What a pity… may the Goddess bless you…”
“If the two of you don’t mind, you may go inside the church and rest for a while. Just please don’t go near the Goddess’s statue.”
With the gatekeeper’s permission, Hailey pushed the Saint around the church grounds.
They wandered for a while, until Hailey felt a light tap on her hand.
The two stopped in front of a small room.
“…Here?”
“The confessional.”
“Ugh—this place? Isn’t this the stuffy, exhausting, boring little room you have to stay in every workday? Why come here?”
A confessional, as the name suggests, is a room hidden from the outside world, where people confess their sins.
It might only offer psychological comfort, but it carries a strong sense of workplace resentment.
But today was a rest day.
Neither the believers who came to pray and confess, nor the one responsible for listening—herself—would be here.
So why had they come?
Idelila felt along the hidden door of the confessional, then pulled Hailey in carefully.
The room was cramped, forcing the two of them to press closely together.
“People come to the confessional on worship days to receive the Goddess’s forgiveness, to lighten the burden in their hearts. But some people refuse to acknowledge their sins…”
As Idelila was speaking, footsteps sounded outside the room.
The person seemed to reach the confessional partition smoothly, without being stopped.
“If the Goddess does not speak, then what I have done is not a sin. This kind of thing is what we call—a guilty conscience.”