Chapter 16: The Nun and an Old Friend

The dessert shop Matilda mentioned in her letter was located in the Amber District of the Mid City.

Although Ingrey City could roughly be divided into the Upper City, Mid City, Central Church District, and the Lower City, in reality—aside from the Central Church District, which functioned as a single unified whole—the other areas, whether upper, middle, or lower, could all be further subdivided into multiple districts.

Much like the major cities on Earth in Evelyn’s previous life, which were divided into various districts for all sorts of reasons.

As the capital of the nation, Ingrey City was unquestionably a large metropolis. For ease of administration, City Hall had likewise divided the entire city into more than a dozen districts.

Evelyn arrived punctually at four in the afternoon in front of a dessert shop called “White Dove & Caramel.”

“Why do I have to be dragged along too…?”

A voice full of resentment slipped into Evelyn’s ears from beside her.

Who else could it be but Cyril? At the moment, he was being pushed along by Evelyn, as if the handles of his wheelchair were firmly gripping his fate.

An hour earlier, Evelyn had unceremoniously pushed him all the way from the Hundred-Eyed Palace to this place in one go. Cyril still couldn’t understand why.

“Until I get my hands on some money, if you leave my sight, I won’t be able to sleep at night.”

Evelyn maintained her gentle, demure façade as she spoke.

Her expression was mild, her tone as soft as a spring breeze—but judging from those chilling sapphire-blue eyes of hers, her words were nothing short of a threat.

Of course, Evelyn knew full well that it sounded like a threat. That was exactly her intention.

This little brat Cyril looked cowardly on the surface, but his inner world was surprisingly rich. He’d probably already rehearsed killing her hundreds—if not thousands—of times in his head.

Cyril, sitting in the wheelchair, suddenly shuddered, struck by the inexplicable feeling that someone had just peeked straight into his thoughts.

“Big Sister Evelyn!”

Just then, something like a red blur suddenly popped out from the side and threw itself into Evelyn’s arms at a speed impossible for ordinary people to follow.

“I told you not to call me ‘big sister’!”

With an expression full of disdain, Evelyn shoved the red blur away. Ordinary people couldn’t keep up with that speed—but in Evelyn’s eyes, this girl was still far too slow.

“I thought you weren’t going to come, Big Sister Evelyn!”

The red blur—Matilda—tried with all her might to shove her face forward. Her slightly baby-fat, youthful face was squished into a lump by Evelyn’s palm.

Today, she wasn’t wearing the ominous-looking Seventh Hall standard bird-beak doctor uniform. Instead, she was dressed in a leather outfit suited to a lively young girl like her.

After all, today was her day off. Otherwise, with the Seventh Hall’s notoriously busy workload, how could she possibly have time to invite Evelyn out for dessert?

“Ahem—there are other people here!”

Evelyn coughed twice, deliberately putting on the air of a quiet reminder.

Her volume, however, was just right—loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

“Huh?”

Matilda blinked, finally noticing Cyril, who looked somewhat awkward sitting to the side.

“I-I’m a Church apprentice nun, Matilda! Matilda Landers!”

Matilda immediately hopped away from Evelyn, shy and flustered as she fixed her slightly curly red short hair, then adjusted the hem of her skirt. Her voice stuttered and trembled.

Only when a handsome guy—who wasn’t a Church member and didn’t know her true nature—was present would she rein in that headache-inducing cheerfulness of hers.

Seeing this, Evelyn finally let out a sigh of relief.

It seemed bringing Cyril along had been the right gamble. Even though he was a sickly young master confined to a wheelchair, his refined and handsome looks were the real deal.

At the very least, they could make Matilda behave herself a little during this meeting.

Otherwise, Evelyn’s head would have been pounding.

“Alright, this guy is the young master of the Grian family. You even went to his house last night.”

As Evelyn spoke, she grasped the handles of Cyril’s wheelchair and pushed him into the dessert shop.

“Ohhh!”

Matilda’s mouth fell open, her expression looking none too bright. “So he’s the young master of the Grian family?”

As she spoke, she leaned close to Evelyn again and elbowed her lightly. “So how did you meet him, Big Sister Evelyn?”

“I went to his house to exorcise demons last night. How else do you think I met him?”

Evelyn found it increasingly hard to deal with this not-so-bright girl. “And stop calling me ‘big sister’!”

“Okay, Big Sister Evelyn!”

Matilda clearly listened—but had no intention of complying.

Evelyn decided to shut up.

After the two of them pushed Cyril inside and took their seats, Matilda kept peppering Cyril with curious questions.

First about what books he liked, then about his favorite desserts.

It seemed that this sickly young master was quite to her taste.

For some reason, Evelyn suddenly felt an irritability, as if something that belonged to her was about to be snatched away.

Yes—throughout all of this, she had regarded Cyril as an object. Something that belonged to her. A piece of “performance” that would help her get promoted into the choir.

“Order something.”

Evelyn suddenly reached out and tossed the menu onto the table, interrupting the conversation between Matilda and Cyril.

“Mhm!”

Perhaps surprised to see Evelyn showing interest in desserts for once, Matilda immediately nodded excitedly. “I want a strawberry mousse and a Black Forest cake! What about you, Big Sister Evelyn? The strawberry sundae here is really good!”

“I’ll just have a cup of coffee.”

Evelyn rubbed her forehead. “Oh, and he doesn’t want anything. He doesn’t like sweets.”

“I—”

Cyril looked at the picture of the strawberry sundae on the menu and swallowed. He had been about to say that he actually liked sweets quite a bit.

But when he saw Evelyn’s terrifying expression—and her left hand slowly lifting—he wisely changed his tune.

“That’s right. I don’t like sweets.”

Normally, his true personality was rather arrogant. But in front of Evelyn, he could only obediently go along with whatever this crazy woman said.

After all, the pain of being ordered around by command seals was not something he wanted to experience again.

I really need to find a way to kill this crazy woman as soon as possible!

“Oh… I see…”

Matilda could only dejectedly order a cup of coffee for Evelyn.

After that, before the desserts were served, Matilda started chattering again—complaining about how exhausting the Seventh Hall’s work was, then secretly badmouthing her teacher, that old priest, behind his back.

“Oh, right, right, Big Sister Evelyn!”

Matilda suddenly slapped the table excitedly. “Have you heard about the death races in the John District?”

“A couple days ago, after the Fourth Hall priests finished their work, we went to clean up the scene and just happened to catch them racing!”

“Death races?”

Evelyn’s eyes immediately lit up.

Those two words successfully piqued her interest.

Sure enough, from a Seventh Hall member who was constantly dealing with aftermaths, there was a high chance of hearing exactly what she wanted to hear.

“This one!”

Matilda casually pulled a newspaper from her bag and pointed to a headline on the front page. “Someone died in a race again recently. I really don’t know how big the prize money must be for those bikers to risk their lives like that.”

She said a lot—but Evelyn only heard the word “prize money.”

Following Matilda’s finger, Evelyn saw the headline: “Another Bloody Incident in Underground Racing.”

Come to think of it, she’d heard the newsboy downstairs shouting about this very story that morning.

“This death race—is it in the John District?” Evelyn asked.

“Yeah.”
Matilda nodded. “I heard it’s motorcycle racing. Sounds really thrilling!”

“Thanks!”

Evelyn suddenly stood up and pushed Cyril straight toward the exit. “Coming to see you really was the right call!”

“Huh?”

Matilda stood up as well. “The desserts aren’t even here yet! And your coffee!”

“Thanks! I’m not thirsty!”

With quick hands and sharp eyes, Evelyn shoved Cyril up to the counter and slapped down a few bills. “I’ve paid—keep the change!”

“But I still wanted to chat more with you, Big Sister Evelyn…”

Before Matilda could finish, Evelyn had already pushed Cyril out of sight.

“You’re not thinking of joining that race, are you?”

Cyril stammered.

On the surface, he sounded worried that Evelyn might actually participate in the so-called death race. But inside, he was thinking—

Go! Hurry up and go! Best if someone crashes and kills you, you crazy woman!

In front of Evelyn, he only dared to be arrogant in his thoughts.

“Of course!”

Evelyn tapped the handle of Cyril’s wheelchair. “Nothing makes money faster than street racing. That’s what Boss Tang taught me.”

“Who’s Boss Tang?”

“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t.”

“But street racing needs a vehicle, right?”

Cyril suddenly realized a fatal problem. “Do you even have a motorcycle?”

“Nope!”

Evelyn answered matter-of-factly. “But I’ve got connections. I can get a bike at a very reasonable price.”

An hour later, Cyril gulped as he stared at a small building in the Hundred-Eyed Palace that radiated an aura of menace.

“This is the connection you were talking about?”

His sharp eyes spotted several fierce-looking men lounging by the stairwell. Two of them looked very familiar.

They looked exactly like two of the thugs who’d tried to rob him earlier that afternoon.

No—scratch that. They were those guys.

“Yep, this is the place.”

Evelyn snapped her fingers. “The boss here is an old friend of mine. He’ll give us a fair price.”

Cyril had the distinct feeling that what she said might actually be true—but no matter how he listened to it, something felt very wrong.

This “old friend”…

Was he really a friend?