Chapter 1 : Anger, Friend

Hey, you. Yeah, you there, looking around like a lost puppy. Come here. Sit down. You don’t have to take me seriously, just think of me as a

crazy woman telling a story.”

“Now, how should I start this…? Oh, right—don’t be shocked. I’m not from this world.”

“I came from a totally different time—far in the past. Can you follow so far?”

“Hey, shut up already, you crazy woman! Some of us are trying to sleep!”

“Piss off, you bastard! Plug your ears if it’s too loud!”

“Ahem, where was I? Oh, right. I used to be a strong young man in my past life. But one day, I woke up and—surprise!—I was a baby girl. At

first, I thought it was just a weird dream, but after soiling my diaper a few times without meaning to, I realized this nightmare was real.”

“So now I’m ‘Leilia,’ raised in the Kiro Orphanage.”

“Life wasn’t too bad. I had one good friend. The staff didn’t exactly care about the kids emotionally, but they were professional and

responsible.”

“Then I turned 15—and that’s when everything changed.”

“In Kiro, once you turn 15, you get two options: become a cleric, or leave with nothing. That’s basically blackmail. A 15-year-old alone in

Haven City wouldn’t last a week.”

“So, I became a nun.”

“But then I started questioning it all. They forced this job on me—fine. But why are they also making me pay every month? That cursed

‘tithe’? After a couple of payments, I had enough. I complained, and they told me if I didn’t want to be excommunicated, I should leave

quietly.”

“So I left. Didn’t pay the tithe either.”

“And now? I’m a nun who got kicked out of the church, living in the slums surrounded by crime and violence. That’s why it’s unfair I got

arrested by the HCPD!”

“The little piece of cement I was talking to in the jail cell didn’t say anything, obviously.”

“You’ve been rambling for six hours! Please shut up already!”

“Why don’t you shut up? Or are you too limp to stuff your own junk in your ears?”

“Even the guy in the next cell over gave up arguing with me after that.”

“Lord, Satan’s voice is close, but I won’t give in. Please watch over this lost lamb. Amen.”

“Okay. I’ve prayed, I’m pure again. Time to get back to talking.”

“Leilia.”

“Huh?”

“It was the cop who locked me up last night.”

“You’re free to go.”

“Huh? Already?”

“Your lawyer’s here.”

“Wait—what? Since when do I have a lawyer?”

Still, whether it’s a real lawyer or a scam artist, I don’t care. If they’re getting me out of this concrete box, I’ll thank them either way.

Surprisingly, it was a real lawyer. From the Church, no less.

“Sister Leilia, are you alright? Was it too cold last night?”

“Holy crap, it’s a real Church lawyer.”

To be honest, I’d have been less shocked if they excommunicated me again. Why help me now?

“We’ve got a car waiting to take you home.”

“Wait a sec.”

I turned to the cop.

“My stuff, please.”

“Oh, right.” He dug around in his desk and finally handed me my revolver.

“Thanks. Looks like it’s in perfect condition.”

“Sister… that’s yours?”

“Yes!”

“That old gun?”

“Yes!”

“It fires real bullets?”

“YES! Now stop asking obvious questions.”

Holding my loaded .44 Magnum gave me a strange sense of peace.

“I call her Moon.”

The lawyer awkwardly looked away.

“Let’s go.”

I scratched my head with the barrel and walked out, with the lawyer trailing behind.

Then I saw the car. A full-on black luxury limousine.

“Wow. So this is where all our tithe money goes.”

I made sure the lawyer heard me, but he just looked away.

I got in, he followed.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes, Monsignor.”

Wait, Monsignor? That’s a high-ranking priest…

“Many Church lawyers are Monsignors due to long service.” he said modestly.

“Oh, fancy. What’s your name?”

“Babery.”

“I’m Leilia.”

We shook hands.

“Now we know each other, right?”

“Umm… sure?”

“Great. So, who sent you?”

“You think the Church elders helped me out of the kindness of their hearts? Yeah, right.”

“The Church just wants to help its own. Don’t misinterpret their intentions.”

“Sure, says the guy in the designer limo.”

He looked uncomfortable. Picking on him was like yelling at a cashier over company policy. Pointless.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m just… bitter.”

“I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then can you at least tell me why the Church suddenly cares?”

“Well… Let’s just say the Church has been blessed lately. Overflowing, in fact. That blessing reached even you.”

“Ah… I get it.”

Lately, the Church has been all over the news.

A real miracle-worker showed up.

Veritas. The miracle nun.

She heals the sick, creates real miracles, and people are flocking to the Church like never before.

“In just a year, our followers have doubled. Some bishops are even petitioning to canonize Sister Veritas.”

And with her boosting profits like that, the Church is practically rolling in cash.

“They probably helped you just to show off their generosity.”

“That’s not it,” I said.

“Huh?”

“I think I know who really helped me. Thanks.”

I didn’t say who—but I knew.

“Monsignor, we’ve arrived.”

Babery tried to sound cheerful but trailed off when he saw where we were.

“Yup. Told you I live in the slums.”

Run-down buildings, tangled wires, garbage, dried vomit. This is my home and my workplace.

“Thanks for the ride. See ya.”

I winked as I got out. He coughed awkwardly and hurried the driver away.

“Eugh, God… it stinks.”

I spat to get the taste of rot out of my mouth.

“Home sweet hellhole.”

Haven City, Zone 9. Unit 1313-3-4.

Real name: “Love Motel,” third floor, far end.

Rent: $400,000 a month. Dirt-cheap dump.

I pressed my chipped wrist implant to the lock, flopped onto the dusty bed, and sneezed as a cloud of dust rose up.

‘Maybe jail was cleaner than this place.’

Absentmindedly, I turned on the holo-TV.

Beep.

—“It’s a miracle! Sister Veritas healed a terminal cancer patient with just a touch!”

—“Science can’t explain it! Her power is real!”

—“Let’s hear from the saint herself.”

“It’s not a special power. Everyone has the potential for miracles. A mother running 10 miles with her sick child, or someone sharing their

last piece of bread—that’s a miracle too. I’m no different.”

“She even talks beautifully…”

Veritas was impossible to hate.

After a prayer, reporters swarmed her.

—“Sister! Over here!”

—“Where are you going next?”

—“Do you have any wishes?”

“Yes. I want to see my dear friend again.”

That gentle smile of hers always hits hard.

I knew she was talking about me.

She never boasts. Always credits others.

Even in the orphanage, even in cleric school—Veritas was like that.

BANG!

“Dumb girl…”

I shot the TV. It fizzled out with a hole in it.

Somehow, I felt better.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!

“LEILIA!! YOU CRAZY b*tch! I SWEAR IF YOU FIRED A GUN INSIDE AGAIN—!”

Ah. Right.

Time to deal with the demon landlord again.