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“One month ago.”

‘Huh?’

Lucia, lifting her shirt, couldn’t hide her bewilderment.

She was wearing bright blue surgical gloves that were ill-suited for symbols of faith. Fully geared up and disinfected for any potential infection, Lucia stood before the patient, uttering a dumbfounded sound.

“What’s wrong with you?”

That day was just like any other.

It was a day spent tracking down clues surrounding suspicious incidents in the Northern Regions, chasing after demons.

I often carved out time from my busy schedule to visit Lucia. Though complete healing might be impossible, I couldn’t just leave the wounds inflicted by demons unattended, as she had warned me.

“The wound… it’s all healed…?”

However, as Lucia attempted to remove the rotting tissue and apply holy water and ointment, she couldn’t help but widen her eyes upon checking the wound.

The wound had completely vanished.

The decaying wound had long disappeared. The blackened skin had regained its natural color, and the grotesque flesh had filled in, as if nothing had ever happened.

Faced with the miraculously healed wound, Lucia clasped her hands together and offered a prayer. She thanked the malevolent entity for removing the scars it left behind.

But blessings and curses were just a hair’s breadth apart.

Soon after overcoming this major crisis, another challenge appeared before us.

“Lucia, this might be…”

“Yes, it seems to be the aftermath of that day’s incident.”

The healing of the wound occurred just after I had spent the night with Lucia. What an exquisitely timed coincidence.

We had no idea what principle had healed the wound, but one thing was clear: that night played a crucial role.

At that moment, we were presented with two options.

First, to acknowledge that I had shared a bed with Lucia.

Sharing a bed with a healing priest was said to have an extraordinary effect on wound healing. This was a tradition passed down among priests, and it was also knowledge codified in the Holy See’s regulations.

But the moment I admitted to spending the night with her, a major uproar would surely follow. Lucia was a saint of the cult, soon to be canonized.

No matter how I tried to excuse that we hadn’t actually engaged in a sexual act, people would not believe me. The Military Intelligence Agency would swiftly summon me, leading to an inspection of my situation, and Lucia would also face suspicion from both the bishops and cardinals.

Setting all that aside, breaking rules without the Church’s approval was a crime even high-ranking clergy would shy away from.

In the end, we had only one choice left.

“Let’s keep it a secret.”

To hide the fact that Lucia and I had shared a bed. Lying was a grave sin for a priest, but we had no other option.

“…I suppose that’s how it must be.”

“Will that be alright?”

“I’m fine, but… I’m worried about you. If my sister finds out, she’ll probably be very shocked.”

“Don’t worry.”

Eventually, Lucia agreed to keep our relationship a secret.

Not for her own safety, but for the sake of the precious person who might worry about her.

The problem was,

“Y-you horrible bastard! Are you even human after that?!”

“Ugh…!”

“I believed you…! I trusted you, Colonel…!”

I had been caught.

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Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

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Zzzz! Sparks flew as the flint was struck.

The oil-soaked wick met the spark and ignited into a flame. The roaring fire mingled with finely chopped leaves, turning into smoke, and the poisonous fumes seeped from the filter to fill my lungs.

The gray haze of smoke that passed through my mouth left behind a thick, spicy taste, tinged with the slightly fishy aroma of blood.

As I exhaled the smoke, I bent over and spat a mixture of blood and spit onto the ground.

“……”

If a believer had seen this, they would have been appalled, but no one scolded me. Not even the priest sitting across from a blasphemer tainting the cathedral.

Veronica, perched on her chair, simply fixed her blank stare on me without uttering a word. I couldn’t tell if she decided I wasn’t worth her time or if she was just too fed up to voice her frustration.

“Huu…”

The smoky air escaped between her reddish lips. As the rising gray swirl of smoke gradually dispersed, the red chimney from which I exhaled shrunk unattractively.

“Colonel.”

Exhaling smoke, Veronica brushed her bangs aside and began to scratch her forehead. A mini cigar precariously dangled between her elegant fingers, but she seemed unbothered.

“Colonel.”

“Yes.”

As she called me again in a mechanical tone, I bowed my head and answered, looking like a sinner.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“……”

Like a timid bird, I buried my head, maintaining silence. It seemed my pitiful posture was unbearable for her.

Veronica, irritated, inhaled the smoke and spat it out before tossing her cigar carelessly to the floor. The black shoes symbolizing the priesthood crushed the burnt-out cigar, and as the church floor got stained, the harsh scent of the cigar pricked my nostrils.

“How dare you mess with my sister?!”

Such coarse language followed.

‘Mess’—that was hardly a term one would expect from someone devoted to the clergy.

The words of the demon, as it glared at Veronica, suddenly flashed through my mind. ‘Lecherous gunman,’ I believe it said.

In truth, those words were right on the nose.

“Ugh, seriously now!”

Veronica, unable to hold back her anger, raised her hand as if to slap me on the cheek.

Instinctively, I brought my arms up to shield my head. And I shouted, suppressing my indignation.

“Stop! I said to stop!”

“Stop? What for? You can’t just hide your hands?!”

“Please stop hitting my face!”

Moments after I witnessed the wound left by the demon being completely healed, Veronica, who had maintained her composure, lost her cool. The wound, which she couldn’t easily heal, was one that even she, with her superior skills among the priests, couldn’t afford to ignore. If such a wound healed without her intervention, then no current priest could dare to erase the scars left by a demon.

But now, that demon’s scar was perfectly healed.

What did that truly mean?

“Are there any good priests besides my sister? That means my sister healed the Colonel’s wound! There’s no way she could have healed it correctly—she’s far below my standards!”

That’s right.

Lucia is nowhere near Veronica’s level. Although there’s room for growth, a priest’s healing ability doesn’t just magically improve with a few prayers.

So how could Lucia heal me?

The answer came from Veronica’s lips.

“Then that just means the Colonel slept with my sister!?”

I tightly shut my eyes at the sight of Veronica’s fist filling my view.

Right after the secret of my sleeping with Lucia was exposed, Veronica relentlessly swung her fists at me as punishment. It was a retribution for sullying the purity of my beloved sister, whom she cherished more than anything.

Veronica shoved me into the confession booth and beat me with her hands and feet. The punches and kicks were so fierce that sparks flew and my vision turned a brilliant white.

Despite having undergone training to resist torture before entering the Information Agency and gathering real-life experience overseas, I couldn’t make a sound as Veronica ruthlessly pummeled me. It couldn’t be helped.

The sight of Veronica swinging her fists was no different from a redneck chasing after a boyfriend who had snatched away his cherished daughter, fueled by vengeance against the man who’d toyed with his beloved sister.

“Whoo, whoo…”

With a sigh, Veronica barely managed to suppress the boiling anger inside her. It was right at that moment that the relentless violence came to a halt.

Her trembling fists drooped down.

Veronica, drained of strength, plopped down onto a chair.

“My, my sister… Poor my sister…”

Her voice, laced with moisture, echoed through the cathedral.

The fierce image of her previously acting like a gang member was nowhere to be found.

Veronica covered her face with her palm, as if she was on the verge of bursting into tears.

“I should have trusted the one I could believe… What should I do about Lucia now…”

“…….”

“Oh, Father….”

The saint, kneeling in front of the altar, desperately searched for her father. However, the statue on the altar depicting the god remained silent, offering no solace.

An awkward silence enveloped the surroundings. Regaining my composure, I tried to deliver a pathetic excuse.

“Uh, Veronica, I understand your concern for Lucia, but we’re really okay—”

“Shut up, already!”

Veronica erupted like a volcano.

“Is that what you call talking? No matter the oracle, how could you get involved with a girl who has her whole future ahead of her? After displaying such indecency, you say everything’s cool!?”

“…That’s a bit harsh—”

“The harsh one is the Colonel! I’ve warned you time and again to take good care of my sisters!”

Her finger, pointed like a spear, thrust into my face. Startled by her intensity, I took a step back, but Veronica advanced closer, continuing her fierce jab.

With fury swirling in her eyes, nothing could stop the saint.

“But you touched my sister, didn’t you?”

“…….”

“Go on, speak up, Colonel.”

Veronica spoke in a voice filled with malice. Though I’d often called her crazy, this was on another level.

“What did you find so appealing about Lucia? Hmm? Was it her youth? Her innocent personality? Or because she was nice to you? Just say it.”

“N-no… Just calm down a bit…”

“Calm down? What the—!”

Bang!

Her fist slammed down onto the altar, causing the ritual utensils atop it to jump.

“Do I look calm to you right now?!”

Veronica raged like a wild animal.

She pounded the altar with her fists, stomped her feet, and banged her chest while expressing her frustration. At one point, she even clutched my collar and shook me back and forth.

“My, my sister… How could I have raised her like this…”

Then suddenly, she collapsed onto the altar, her voice thick with tears.

“Take responsibility! You irresponsible brat…!”

As I was being tossed around by her grip, I thought, perhaps Veronica needed not a priest but a psychotherapist.

Bouncing between rage, sorrow, and despair with an alarming ease, she seemed completely out of her mind. Of course, I wasn’t any better off myself.

Finally, I raised both hands and feet in surrender.

“I get it! I got it! Just say you’ll take responsibility!”

That was the most rational and logical response I could muster under the circumstances.

But who said it? There’s no logic or reason when it comes to crazy people.

That statement soon became my reality.

“H-how dare you speak so disrespectfully!”

Veronica cracked me on the head with a scripture laid on the altar.

“Ouch!”

I clutched my crown and rolled around on the floor. Grabbing the scripture fiercely, Veronica snorted like an angry bull.

“How dare you mistreat your innocent sister…!”

“Th-that’s nonsense…”

“Be quiet!”

Just as I was about to protest, her palm flew to my ear. With one hand gripping my earlobe, Veronica hurled the scripture onto the altar.

“That’s enough.”

“…….”

“No matter how I think about it, I can’t let you send the Colonel to my sisters like this. Who knows what kind of trouble he’ll stir up?”

What on earth does that even mean?

Before I could finish my question, Veronica started to move first.

She pulled my ear, and with swift strides, we headed towards the cathedral’s inner sanctum. At the end of that long corridor stood the confession booth.

Veronica shoved me inside.

Then she stepped inside the booth, exhaling roughly as if trying to calm herself.

At last, the door began to close.

“Brace yourself today. I’m going to fix that crazy head of yours!”

With those words, the door of the confession booth shut behind us.

 

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