The day is bright and sunny.
Vikil pulls out weeds in the garden.
But even when he's doing the dirty work, Vikil's eyes and ears are always open.
He doesn't want to miss anything about Guilty, so he's doing his best to gather information about him.
It is almost impossible for volunteers to et Mr. Guilty in person, instead relying on information about his work and daily life from afar or from people around him.
This was made even more annoying by the fact that he was frequently interrupted by Geront, Fed, Hebe, and Ephebo, who were always by his side.
``These guys are strong. Especially that daughter of Geront...
Vikir turned his attention to the smallest mage of Guilty's Four Shadows.
She's probably in at least 5th grade or above.
Her body was clearly that of a girl around Vikil's age, but her strength was clearly unnatural.
The black bag she was carrying also looked quite intimidating and emitted an unpleasant odor.
It looked like a relic from a distant ancient era.
In any case, the purpose of the mission cannot be achieved unless we sohow deal with the four sackn who protect Guilty.
"Okay, now let's just focus on what we can see."
Vikir started thinking using only the available information.
Analyzing the situation, Guilty's job was not unique.
His main job was to sell indulgences to church-going nobles and rchants, and he occasionally sent investnt reports and indulgence books to the Quovadis family.
The recipient of the email was, in most cases, Cardinal Humbert L. Quovadis of the Old Order.
Vikir climbs over the fence at night and shoots arrows at pigeons and owls to stop the mail from flying away from Guilty's office.
Letters typically include the following:
Viscount Beckin: Killed the parents who tried to donate the inheritance to their children instead of passing it on to their children, faked an accident, and stole the inheritance. If you pay a 1.5 billion gold prize tribute, all your sins will be atoned for. be exposed.
Baron Rajeso terrorized his twin sisters who were working as maids, killed them, and buried them in the sewers. All sins are forgiven with a tribute of 200 million gold.
Lord Finegigue: He murdered his business partner and stole his investnts worth $800 million, while his family suffered and committed mass suicide.
Count Eisel: Charged with huge tax evasion, nearly 100 billion gold due to tax evasion alone = pardoned by paying 300 million gold as tribute.
Quaker CEO: Accused of stock price manipulation that drove more than 10,000 Ali investors to suicide = pardoned by paying 5 billion gold.
.
.
For example, rich people evade taxes, high-ranking aristocrats threaten their servants, rchants kill business partners, rchants buy and sell indulgences—anything goes.
Vikir read these letters one by one while weeding the garden.
He concluded:
"You don't need to know."
They are villains, but at least they didn't betray humanity by teaming up with demons.
At least they weren't being chased by nighthounds.
Vikir stopped to throw away his letter.
Confessions of criminals and their secret cris against humanity, to which the priests of the Old Order had to relate.
"It might make a good gift for soone."
This "blacklist" would be an effective political weapon.
Vikir put the letter aside for a mont. He was going to hide her sowhere.
Well then.
...Wiggle!
Sothing moved in Vikir's arm pocket.
"...?"
Vikir panicked, which was rare.
Those words that crawled out of his pocket were enough to make even the normally expressionless Vikir roll his eyes.
Eggs. It was a pretty big black egg.
Mrs. Eight Legs' egg. He had saved it while floating deep within the Black Mountains for two years with his forr enemy.
I always carry it in my pocket just in case, but why does it wobble?
"...?"
Vikir looked up.
A group of children were racing toward the direction in which the egg was bobbing.
"What?
Vikir's mind wandered for a mont.
Mrs. Eight-Legged Egg once grew up in the sa nest as the wolf cubs of Barak's village.
The puppies hugged each other. They were playing with it by rolling around and licking it.
Is it possible that this egg misses this simple life, and when it sees the children at the orphanage playing, it wants to go to them? To Mrs. Eight-Legged Egg Is it a coincidence that the children in the orphanage also have no parents?
"No, that can't be true. A re spider egg has no spirituality."
However, if it's the egg of Madam Eightlegs, a high-level creature with a danger level of S, it might be sothing else.
Well then.
Bang!
One of the children kicked the ball, and it made a loud noise.
At the sa ti, the children's expressions all changed to fear.
"It hurts!?"
Did the ball fly too far?
No, it wasn't.
There was a loud bang, but the ball didn't move an inch from its spot.
The leather was torn, and the air inside was bursting.
"Unfortunately, that was the last ball."
The children gathered around the tattered ball and cried.
The orphanage made a lot of money selling indulgences, but the toys the children played with were always old, tattered toys donated long ago.
The balls that the children used for soccer were tattered and had holes in them, so they sewed them together many tis to make them into balls.
Eventually, it burst, leaving the children unable to play with the ball.
"..."
The child who kicked the ball last panicked and didn't know what to do.
The nervous child's face looked familiar to Vikir.
Nymph. A girl who doesn't really open up to volunteers.
Her usual expressionless face disappeared, and she looked at her classmates with an expression that looked like she was about to cry.
She looks apologetic and doesn't know what to do.
Then. Sothing amazing happened.
...Pot!
Mrs. Eight Legged's egg pierced Vikir's chest and shot in front of her.
Pow! Ha! Ha!
Mada's egg bounced and rolled lightly on the floor, as if inviting a child to play.
"What?
The children are so happy when Mada's egg bounces like that.
The ball was deflecting and bouncing in strange directions, but the children generally didn't seem to mind, and Mada's The egg was used as an orientation ball.
"...That's strange."
Vikir watched with his mouth ajar as Mada's egg flew around the playground and chased the children.
The eggs bounced off the children's limbs and floated in the air, which looked kind of interesting.
It didn't break on impact but bounced back like a rubber ball.
A perfect material, as if heaven had brought it down from heaven to be used as a ball.
... But it was definitely a monster's egg, and it was definitely not sothing a child could play with.
Vikir stepped forward to snatch it from the children.
This is the is the very mont.
"Hmph!"
A hoarse cough could be heard behind him.
Vikir ignored it and took another step forward.
"Cough! Cough!"
As if to get Vikir's attention, he continued to cough.
"...?"
Vikir looked at a familiar face.
St. Dolores stood before him, her face slightly flushed.
Vikil quickly grabbed Guilty's ledger and placed it in his arms.
Dolores narrowed her eyes at the sight.
"Are you studying for the written exam? Are you studying and volunteering at the sa ti? ...Hmm, you're surprisingly diligent.''
``What?''
When Vikiel asked in a harsh tone, Dolores coughed again and averted her gaze.
"Um, um, just, um. I was wondering what your volunteer work was like, and from what I heard from so friends, you volunteer." Is it worth it?"
"Yes."
"..."
"Oh, yes, please answer."
"Yes."
"...I see."
Dolores couldn't help but notice that she didn't like Vikiel's short answers.
She asked a one-word question. I was used to getting 10 or 100 answers.
Dolores wrapped the ends of her hair around her fingers and twirled them a few tis before forcing herself to speak.
"...Actually. I ca here to talk about what happened yesterday."
"...?"
Vikir's brow furrowed slightly.
"Yesterday?
I guess you forgot it right away because it wasn't important.
Dolores hesitated and continued while Vikiel tried to rember what happened to her yesterday.
"Well, I think it's because of family circumstances... I think I overreacted too much yesterday, but I think you were just trying to help , and I'm really sorry for yelling at you like that. Yesterday..."
Dolores was apparently talking about yesterday when Vikir pushed her into the hallway with her mouth covered.
But.
"...!"
Vikir wasn't paying attention to Dolores at the mont.
Because sothing bigger happened.
Bam!
Mada's egg, kicked by the nymphet, flew high into the air this ti.
But he had chosen the wrong trajectory.
...Pow!
He fell into the deep sewers at the edge of the playground.
The kids all scread.
"Ouch! No! That's the last ball!"
"We're not going to make it without it!"
"Pick it up! We have to pick it up or...!"
The problem is that the filth and wastewater flowing in that sewer are being sucked straight into an underground sewage treatnt plant, and the ball that fell into it isn't just any ball.
Rurring...
While the children panic, Mada's egg heads to the sewage treatnt plant.
The sewers are too deep for them to enter, and the rivers are flowing too fast.
It is a tragic situation in many ways.
So Dolores couldn't finish her sentence.
"I'm sorry...maybe?"
Vikil, the subject of the apology, hurried into the playground while saying that.
"It's deep. Please move."
Vikir briefly warned the children, who had gathered in front of the sewer, and tried to move out of the way.
Then.
...an explosion of air!
Without a mont's hesitation, Vikiel jumped into the dirty, floating sewers.
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