Chapter 2: How About I Just Put a Bullet in Him Too?

Every year around this time, Ingray City enters a rainy season that lasts for months.

In these endless rains, the cold seeping water sinks into people’s bones, accumulates in their marrow, and steals every last trace of warmth.

Raindrops slam against the stone-paved streets, staining the uneven cobblestones a hazy bluish-gray, and the rain-washed stones reflect the scattered streetlamps above.

Those lamps glow a warm shade of orange.

Pedestrians hurry below their umbrellas, most wrapped in heavy, dark wool coats, while black carriages rumble continuously across the road — solemn and grim like coffins set on wheels.

Horse hooves clip-clop sharply on the stones, wooden wheels rumble across the streets — people rushing as if every second matters.

Evelyn leaned into the recess of a narrow alley, humming softly while she polished the ivory grip of her silver-white revolver.

Only after the grip shone brilliantly did she finally tuck the gun back into the thigh holster hidden beneath her habit.

Not far away, the commotion in the bar continued — the chaos caused by discovering Sig’s corpse had yet to settle, and policemen in round top hats were just now arriving by carriage.

Evelyn spared the scene a faint glance — at the mess she herself created — and lowered her head to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

She was a Sinner Nun — one who had joined the church less than a year ago, yet already held the qualifications to enter the Choir.

The duty of a Sinner Nun is simple: hunt down demons with absolute disregard for anything else.

They are the frontline that protects humanity from demonic invasion, and as long as they can kill a demon, they can ignore everything else — including other people’s lives and their own.

It is a profession with a terrifyingly high mortality rate — over sixty-three percent of new Sinner Nuns die to demons every year.

Evelyn chose to become one… simply because she refused to get married.

Looking back, it really was ridiculous.

Evelyn wasn’t even a native of this world — she had transmigrated here.
Before that?
She was an office drone who literally worked herself to death.

The original owner of this body was the eldest daughter of Count Níðhöggr — a thriving new noble who commanded industrial power capable of steering the nation’s technological progress.

Yet from the inherited memories, this daughter had always been timid, fragile, bullied — a weak young lady who swallowed humiliation until it choked her.

All because her mother, long dead, had been a commoner.

If Count Níðhöggr hadn’t needed a legitimate heir to use in a political marriage, she probably would’ve died locked away as a despised illegitimate daughter.

No one in the Níðhöggr household, not even the servants, respected this cowardly “new” young lady.

When Evelyn transmigrated into her body, her neck was already caught in a noose hanging from the beam.

Count Níðhöggr had deemed it perfectly reasonable to sacrifice his daughter — sending her to marry a noble she had never once seen, in exchange for higher political standing.

That unseen noble possessed royal blood — and once Evelyn married him, the Count would gain a title among the royal peerage, along with greater power and influence.

So when that fragile girl learned she was to become the offering, she made her one and only — and final — act of resistance:

She died.

She used her own life to defy the injustice awaiting her.

She was gone, off to heaven… leaving the Evelyn who clawed her way out of that noose to suffer instead.

Because Evelyn certainly did not want to get married either!

One moment she was working overtime, the next she woke up in another world — tall, curvy, long-legged — and about to be married?!

How could that be allowed?!

So, to protect her dignity — and to avoid being branded a demon-possessed impostor — she had only one option:

Join the Church and become a Sinner Nun.

At least then she could temporarily stay far away from the Níðhöggr family, avoid being forced into marriage, and keep anyone from noticing anything strange.

But it was only a temporary solution.
Count Níðhöggr would never let his marriage pawn escape so easily.

The status of a Sinner Nun would at best buy Evelyn a year of freedom — and now that year was nearly over.

Unless she managed to earn a place in the Choir within the remaining months.

The Choir is the Church’s high-ranking order — powerful, prestigious, and with tremendous freedom.

If she made it into the Choir, she would gain enough authority within the Church that even Count Níðhöggr couldn’t pry her away.

But to join the Choir, she needed accomplishments — proof that she was worthy.

Thankfully, she turned out to be unexpectedly talented in exorcism.

Perhaps it was her Earth-born soul — giving her a mind so strong that demonic whispers could barely graze it.

Before a demon fully claims a host, they can only use mental corruption as their attack — and Evelyn was simply… immune.

And paired with firearms, plus the common sense she’d brought from Earth…

Let’s just say: physical exorcism works wonders.

To date, no demon had escaped her bullets.

And with a three-month record of thirty-one demons slain, she had become a strong contender for the Choir’s lowest seat.

As long as she handled the recent demon incidents plaguing Ingray City, she would secure her place before the Count dragged her home.

“Chhk.”

A silver lighter sparked to life, fire illuminating half of Evelyn’s cheek.
She lit the tip of the white cigarette and blew a stream of smoke toward the sky.

“Smoking is forbidden for nuns!”

A childish voice chirped right beside her ear.
“So is drinking!”

“I’m under way too much stress.
Cut me some slack, I’m just a corporate s*ave at heart.”

Evelyn sighed and turned to the fluttering blue idiot-bird hovering nearby.

It looked like a crow dunked in blue paint, with beady, foolish little eyes.

That was her familiar.
Every Sinner Nun needed a familiar — and most had terrifying and powerful creatures as partners.

Only Evelyn’s familiar was this utterly useless blue bird.
Good for nothing but complaining.

She named it Pudgee, because when it flapped its wings, it sounded exactly like: pudgee pudgee.

What kind of bird makes that sound?!

Still — while it had zero combat ability and contributed nothing during exorcisms — it did have two extremely convenient skills.

First, it could create a barrier that diverted others’ attention — the reason nobody noticed Evelyn fighting a demon in the bar earlier.

Second, it was highly sensitive to demonic scent — whenever a demon appeared, Pudgee would sense it.

Thanks to those two abilities, Evelyn had managed to exorcise thirty-one high-level demons in just three months.

She only needed to keep relying on its senses to finish the current cases — and she’d make it into the Choir, permanently free from the Níðhöggr family.

“Where’s the next demon?”

Evelyn asked while leaning lazily against the wall, cigarette still in her mouth — an image that would get her thrown straight into a prayer chamber for three days and nights if anyone in the Church saw it.

“Count Grian’s estate.”

Pudgee circled her once and answered.

“Count Grian’s estate…?”

Evelyn chuckled softly, pressing the cigarette out against the wall.
“Well, isn’t that a coincidence.”

“You know him?”

Pudgee flapped down onto her shoulder.

“Nope.”

Evelyn opened her umbrella and stepped into the rain.

Not knowing him was only half true — Count Grian was the very man she had originally been meant to marry.

Funny how his name resurfaced now.

‘Maybe I should just put a bullet in him too — save everyone some trouble?’