“The stingy cheapskate trying to act tough without a dime?”

Muen lifted the little brat with one hand and said with a half-smile,

“Interesting. That’s the first time anyone’s ever called me that.”

“Stingy cheapskate, stingy cheapskate, you are a stingy cheapskate! You gave me a big bill on purpose just to make me dig around for change. Do you know how hard it was for me to make change for that?”

The little brat shouted and flailed, swinging his arms and throwing his fists around, determined to teach this awful man a lesson for so obviously messing with him on purpose.

Unfortunately, the natural handicap of his arm length meant he could not even touch Muen’s sleeve. Instead, he looked like a little mouse hanging upside down by the tail, swaying back and forth in a frankly ridiculous way.

“Pero! Don’t be rude!”

The old nun finally snapped out of it and stormed over to him, raising her hand high—

The little brat who had been so cocky a second ago immediately squeezed his eyes shut and threw up a defensive posture. Muen, too, lifted a brow, ready to move at any moment and dodge the blow with the child in tow.

But just when both of them thought a loud slap was about to land...

What sounded next was a helpless sigh instead.

“How many times have I told you?”

The old nun lowered her hand, straightened the oversized outer coat that had been thrown into disarray from all his running around, then pinched the thin shirt beneath it, already soaked through, and used a faint Holy Light spell to warm him against the cold.

“Don’t go out when it’s raining. Look at you, you’re drenched. What if you get sick?”

“I have to make money!”

“And how much can you possibly earn selling newspapers as a side job? That little bit of money is nowhere near enough.”

“It’s still better than all of you doing nothing!”

The little brat stuck out his tongue, suddenly shrank his body, slipped right out of the coat, then made a face at both the old nun and Muen before turning and bolting off without a backward glance.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished from their sight.

“So your orphanage doesn’t consist entirely of good children after all.”

Muen gave the coat in his hand a little shake. In Muen’s hands it did not actually look very large. It only seemed oversized because the little brat named Pero was far too skinny.

“Every now and then, I suppose one with a bit of personality slips through.”

“Every place has its exceptions, doesn’t it?” The old nun took the coat back and gave an embarrassed smile. “I hope Mister Bruce won’t take it too much to heart.”

“Of course I won’t. Actually, during an otherwise rather dull tour, an accident like this is pretty entertaining.”

“That’s good.”

The old nun let out a breath of relief.

“Then let’s go into the classroom next. The children have probably been waiting a long time.”

“No.”

Muen said,

“Let’s change the plan for now. I want to follow him.”

“W-why? There’s nothing worth seeing with Pero. He’s just a disobedient, troublesome child.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see.”

Muen smiled.

“Compared to those well-behaved children who’ve clearly already been rehearsed, this uglier side—the side that belongs to a bad child and exists in the shadows of this convent—is exactly what would help me decide whether I want to support this place or not, isn’t it?”

“Th-that...”

The old nun hesitated.

Because what lay on Pero’s side really was a wound, or a shadow, she did not want outsiders to see.

But when her fingers brushed over the oversized, ragged coat, already patched several times over, something seemed to cross her mind, and her gaze suddenly hardened.

“All right.”

The old nun nodded.

“I’ll take you to see.”

...

The room was narrow and dim, lit only by a single flickering oil lamp.

There was a hole in the window. It had been papered over with newspaper before, but the past few days of cold, endless rain had soaked the paper through and rotted it soft, so a steady chill kept {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} slipping into the room through that gap.

The room was cold, but very clean. Even in this damp weather, there was not the slightest trace of mildew. Instead, the space was filled with a dense medicinal smell.

When Pero returned to the room, he pulled out a packet of herbs from inside his clothes and deftly dropped them into a clay pot with a chipped rim to boil. While that simmered, he used the newspapers he had not managed to sell that day to patch up the hole in the window again.

Since he was so short, Pero had to stand on tiptoe with all his strength.

At the same time, as he looked at those brand-new newspapers being pasted over the window, pain flashed in his eyes.

The rain really had ruined business. He had a lot left over today, way too many. If he had known, he would not have taken in so many that morning. It was all because that old bastard at the newspaper plant had talked him into it.

But newspapers were like that. Once today passed and they lost their timeliness, then by tomorrow they were nothing but waste paper. Other than pasting them onto walls, covering windows, or using them as kindling, they were good for nothing.

Because tomorrow would have tomorrow’s newspapers.

“Whew... finally done.”

Even a task this simple took a lot out of someone as frail as Pero. But he did not even have time to wipe the sweat away before hurrying back to the clay pot.

The medicine was ready.

Pero gently blew on the black, foul-smelling broth, then carried it to the only bed in the room. Completely unlike his mischievous, hyperactive self from daytime, he now moved with extraordinary care, calling softly to the person lying there.

“Big sis, time for your medicine.”

“...”

On the bed lay a girl who was clearly older than Pero, yet even frailer than he was, so thin that she actually looked smaller than him.

Hearing his voice, the girl turned her head with difficulty. Her pale lips moved for quite a while before a weak voice finally forced its way out.

“Pero... did you go out to work again?”

“I was just selling newspapers, that’s all. Don’t worry, big sis.”

“In weather like this...”

“The weather was great today!”

Pero cut her off.

“The sky was bright and clear, and the sun was warm. It felt wonderful! It’s only the evening that got a little bad.”

“R-really?”

“Of course it’s true. Why would I lie to you?”

Pero patted his chest and guaranteed it proudly.

“So don’t worry, big sis. Even though I didn’t run into a kind person like yesterday, the newspapers still sold really well! After buying your medicine, I even had lots of good food myself!”

“...”

The girl said nothing.

She only looked at Pero’s lips, which were just as dry and cracked as her own.

A pained look welled up in her eyes, only to be quickly wiped away.

Then she put on a happy smile.

“Mhm. Big sis believes you.”

“Forget that for now. Come on, drink the medicine before it gets cold. Ah...”

“Ah...”

...

...

“So the reason that little brat keeps running around outside selling newspapers even though he’s being supported by the orphanage... is to pay for his sister’s treatment?”

Through the window, Muen could see the scene inside the room clearly, and naturally he could also make out the pale face on the bed.

“They don’t look very alike... is she really his sister?”

“No.”

The old nun said,

“Both Aviva and Pero are orphans. Aviva had already been at the orphanage for quite some time, and two years ago, she found Pero outside half-starved to death. From that point on, she became his only sister, and Pero became her only brother.”

“I see... the little brat’s more impressive than I thought.”

No blood relation, yet the two of them were still relying on each other for survival. With no moral or legal obligation binding them, abandonment and steadfastness were separated by only a single thought.

And clearly, choosing the latter was countless times harder.

“It’s a touching sight, but I don’t understand.”

Muen’s expression tightened as he seriously met the old nun’s eyes.

“Why aren’t you treating that girl?”

“We can’t.”

The old nun shook her head.

“It’s a very troublesome illness.”

“You have the Church behind you.”

Muen frowned.

“Is there really such a thing as a disease even the Church can’t treat?”

“Holy Light isn’t all-powerful. At least compared to ordinary injuries, something like illness is much more troublesome.”

“I know that.”

Holy Light could restore wounds very easily.

Because injuries were external. It was easy to find the target that needed treatment.

But disease required an extremely complicated process, and the most basic condition was understanding the pathology of the illness itself.

Otherwise, even if someone held Holy Light in their hands, they would still be like a headless fly, with no idea where to begin.

“But... with the Church’s capabilities, troublesome is one thing. Treatable? It definitely ought to be treatable.”

Muen had a great deal of faith in the Church’s standards in this regard.

After all, for them, even casually reattaching a severed head was possible. A disease should not be beyond their reach.

Muen directly pushed open the door and, under Pero’s stunned gaze, grabbed the girl’s wrist at once.

“It definitely can be treated.”

Muen sensed her condition briefly, then took the medicine bowl from Pero’s hands and smelled it. After that, he said with certainty,

“Her life force may be weak, but she’s already held on for quite a long time. And she’s managed that while being kept alive by medicine of this quality. If the Church can’t treat an illness at this level, then they should all go kneel before the Goddess and beg forgiveness.”

“...It can be treated.”

The old nun followed him inside and said helplessly,

“But even the Church doesn’t have the ability to treat everyone. The cathedral’s manpower in this area is limited, so if she wants treatment from the Church... she has to wait in line.”

“Wait in line? For how long?”

“For... three months.”

“How long?!!”

“Three months. According to the people sent from Kore Cathedral, everything is strained during wartime. In every direction, resources are tight. Many people are on the brink of death, and compared to that, illness is less urgent. So if Aviva wants treatment, she has to wait at least three months.”

“I see.”

Muen frowned.

“That’s understandable, in a way. But whether this girl can last three months is another matter entirely.”

“Yes.”

The old nun let out a long sigh.

“We’ve been trying to think of something too, but in this situation, we really...”

“There is a way!” Pero suddenly shouted.

“Pero, you...”

“I heard it!”

Ignoring the old nun completely, Pero stared at Muen as though he had finally realized just how important this “cheapskate” might be.

“I heard it when the people from Kore Cathedral came. I was hiding in the back, and I heard them say there was another way!”

“Oh?” Muen turned to the old nun. “What way?”

“...”

The old nun very clearly wanted to keep this buried. Or perhaps even she did not want to bring it up at all. But Pero grew more and more aggressive, and Muen kept pressing. After struggling with herself for a while, realizing there was no way to hide it, the old nun finally chose to tell him everything.

“It’s not really some so-called solution. The people from Kore Cathedral only hinted, directly and indirectly, that if we were willing to pay a certain price, Aviva could ‘cut the line’ and receive treatment earlier.”

“A price? What price?”

Muen narrowed his eyes.

“It’s simple.”

The old nun lowered her head, then took a deep breath. Every word she spoke afterward came out unbearably heavy.

“Two hundred thousand Aimier.”