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“If the talent of a diplomat lies in turning attire inside out with astonishing rhetoric, then there’s no diplomat who could surpass Older Sister Adela.”

Sister presented to me the majestic law of the wild, the so-called survival of the fittest.

“What should I do…?”

“Ah, I don’t know. Just handle it yourself.”

“Sister, don’t say that….”

Adela, by plugging her ears as if she hadn’t heard anything, completely ignored my plea filled with urgency.

She was implying that no matter what happened, it was up to me, and her warning to act as if I were dead upon returning home after a sleepless night was just an extra.

“This is why I said it’s not wise to associate with diplomats.”

“What are you saying, you spy? Anyway, Sister is leaving. Make sure to come back early.”

I tugged at my hair in despair.

But what could I do?

After all, encountering Veronica was purely my choice.

Since she was someone I chose to meet, I had to bear the responsibility as well. Likewise, I had to sort things out.

After my sister cruelly ran off, I sat alone at the table, grumbling like a petty person for about ten minutes.

“…Oh my?”

Returning, the Saint looked around at the empty seats, covering her mouth in surprise.

“Where did your sister go? I don’t think I got to properly greet her.”

“…She left first. She said she had urgent business.”

“It seems I’ve unknowingly imposed upon a busy public servant. What should I do? Should I visit her separately later?”

A smile that feigned discomfort adorned her face. Her voice pretended to be apologetic, but her eyes mischievously curved upward.

That smile was a true reflection of the Saint’s hidden intentions, which contradicted her words.

“By the way….”

Saint Veronica, seated across from me, wore a smile.

“It’s just the two of us now?”

As always, it was a truly delightful smile.

Episode 21 – Peace of Our Times

The atmosphere was so tense it felt like something was about to go wrong at any moment, yet Veronica’s demeanor was as composed as could be.

Just moments ago, she had been clingy, but now she flipped her attitude like turning over a palm.

“I actually had something important to discuss, and this works out perfectly.”

“What is it? That my sister left?”

Veronica nodded without hesitation.

“Yes. I hoped it wouldn’t reach other ears.”

“Why would you drive off Older Sister Adela for some trivial matter? I’m the one who gets the short end of the stick.”

“Calling it driving off is a bit much… Let’s just say your sister couldn’t handle the charm of an adult.”

Who exactly was the adult here?

I was left staring at her profile, incredulous and dumbfounded, as she took a sip of her drink.

“You pulled this prank just to discuss something? I can’t believe it.”

“What part don’t you believe?”

“No, really. What am I supposed to do in front of family? What about my dignity….”

I vented, feeling somewhat unfair, mixed with grievance.

Can’t we just save the playful banter for when it’s just the two of us?

As I poured out my complaints, Veronica leaned closer to the table with a teasing smile.

“What’s wrong with that? You can think of it as having experienced something ahead of time.”

It was something that made me instinctively clutch the nape of my neck.

I drank, yet somehow she was the one causing the ruckus. It was a mystery I couldn’t grasp.

In the secluded restaurant, Veronica continued, appearing somewhat relieved.

“Anyway, I’ll get to the main point.”

Placing her glass down with a thud, she interlocked her fingers, gazing at me with an expression devoid of light.

“I received a request from the National Affairs Council. An unofficial request.”

The National Affairs Council is the central power structure of the Cult, typically likened to a cabinet in a common state.

Like any cabinet, the council comprises various administrative agencies and appointed civil servants, including ministers and deputy ministers. These individuals serve as both clergy and bureaucrats.

Effectively, it acts as the control tower that leads the Cult, alongside the Mediuth Cathedral, where the Pope’s residence and office are located.

“Hmm….”

An unofficial request was on the table from that council.

“You said it’s an unofficial request?”

“Yes. To be specific, it’s closer to being off the record.”

Off the record refers to when a source asks a journalist not to write down the information. It’s mainly used in journalism but can also refer to a situation where certain parties must remain uninvolved.

In the context of Information Officers, it carries a slightly different meaning, implying a personal request or institutional non-interference.

To extend it further, it also implies a ‘named request.’

In other words,

“…You have work for me?”

I pointed to myself, questioning again, and the Saint nodded affirmatively.

“It’s not an official request, mind you. The Holy See has no formal connection with the Colonel, and since the Colonel is publicly a foreigner unrelated to the Holy See, that’s the stance of the National Affairs Council. Keep that in mind.”

Meaning I shouldn’t create any connections. More precisely, it’s a request not to reveal the slightest hint that the Holy See made a request of me.

A foreigner of Abas nationality and the National Affairs Council of the Holy Land Lateran.

Two perfectly separate entities with no connections whatsoever.

As I carry out the task they requested, they wanted me to remain a perfectly separate individual, which was the Cult’s request conveyed by the Saint.

Coincidentally, that was precisely the task I felt most confident tackling.

Severing connections with my home country was a specialty of an Information Officer.

“What about the company?”

“We’re not involving them. Neither directly nor indirectly will any external forces be tolerated by the Mediuth Cathedral. Especially considering the current situation where a former Inquisition Director is the head of the Holy See.”

“You’re saying I should run a one-man show?”

“If possible.”

The Saint nodded, portraying herself as an envoy sent by the Cult, she calmly added.

“However, this case is one where even the National Affairs Council can’t provide assistance to you. They can offer some degree of convenience, but the moment it goes beyond that….”

It would become increasingly hard to remain a perfectly separate individual.

The National Affairs Council and a foreigner of Abas nationality must remain thoroughly apart, and the Cult cannot be an exception.

So while I could receive ‘convenience’ without violating my identity as ‘a colleague specified by the Oracle, it wouldn’t extend beyond a reasonable boundary.

That was the stance of the National Affairs Council.

I began tapping the table rhythmically, as if playing with an abacus.

“…….”

A high-ranking clergyman, not just any priest or monk, had personally come to deliver this message. From that alone, one could tell the ‘unofficial request’ from the Cult was no ordinary affair.

The fact that it was the Saint who came, instead of a cardinal or bishop, also suggested that they couldn’t appoint just any clergy for this task.

The arrival of the Saint, a powerful affirmation of the significance of this ‘unofficial request’.

An earnest request, a trustworthy messenger, confidentiality…

After combining the words, I arrived at one conclusion.

The wrinkles on the tablecloth created a landscape as I paused my fingers and posed a question.

“That request, does it relate to the ongoing discussions within the Cult regarding resolution of past issues and claims for reparations?”

“……”

The Saint did not answer. She simply wore a peculiar smile.

At this, I leaned forward, waggling my finger, and spoke in a firm voice.

“Just to be clear… if you’re asking me to sabotage or propagate against the opposing faction, that would be a problem. No matter who I am, I can’t do that.”

“Could you refrain from such outlandish assumptions? The National Affairs Council is not the kind of place that would entrust such undertakings to a Colonel.”

With her arms crossed and legs crossed, Veronica chewed on an asparagus while adding her commentary.

“Seeing you work double while others relax makes me wonder if you’re actually planning to work yourself to death. It’s not like they’re a gang of thugs.”

“No! You skip Mass and say whatever to the civil servants—no, let’s drop that. I just made a mistake, so can we put the knife down for a moment…?”

In an instant, the Saint, unable to hold back her sarcasm, threatened with a ‘shut that mouth’ glare while wielding a knife, leaving the civil servant in a devout posture, wishing to avoid being chopped instead of steak.

“Hmph!”

The Saint tossed the meat knife onto her plate with a clang and leaned back, feigning indifference. The civil servant, cautiously glancing at her, quickly returned to the main topic.

“Thank goodness the request isn’t a dire one. So, what does the National Affairs Council wish to have done…?”

“It’s about persuasion. To put it more bluntly, it’s lobbying.”

Lobbying? Isn’t that Veronica’s specialty?

I couldn’t hide my puzzlement.

“If the goal is to sway the opposing faction, there must be suitable candidates within the Cult.”

For reform-minded high priests wouldn’t lack connections with conservative priests, and it would make more sense for someone within the Cult to handle negotiations rather than an outsider like me.

That was essentially the gist of my argument.

And indeed, Veronica nodded in agreement with my reasoning.

“Exactly. If it’s about persuading a typical Cardinal or Bishop, that’s a problem we can solve within our Church.”

“But does the person we need to persuade not fall under the typical clergy?”

“Correct.”

Without a hint of hesitation, the Saint promptly answered.

The cleric from the Cult who is notoriously difficult to persuade, stubborn to the core, where neither persuasion nor coercion would work.

At least, the religious figure I knew, and among those closely related to me, there was only one person who fit that description.

The first two Saints born in the history of the Cult.

The first Saint, Veronica, finally broke her silence with great difficulty.

“I believe you’ll need to persuade our Lucia.”

*

Please persuade Lucia.

The first question that came to my mind after receiving the off-the-record request from the National Affairs Council was this.

Why me, of all people?

The Saint’s answer was simple.

“The question is wrong. Instead of why you, it should be why it *must* be you. That’s the more critical question.”

Veronica explained that I was the only suitable person to persuade Lucia.

“Is it so strange that a Saint of the Cult has no one to persuade her within the Cult? That’s a bit odd, isn’t it, Saint?”

“There’s no need to find it odd. We’ve tried, and we realized it was impossible, which is why we turned to you.”

“Does ‘we’ include you as well?”

“Yes.”

To be frank, that was not a statement I could trust. It lacked persuasiveness.

Did Lucia’s closest confidante fail to persuade her? So now, the National Affairs Council seeks the help of a foreigner? Does that even make sense?

However, Veronica firmly swore by the truth, vowing to the divine that her words were not false. Given her history of pilfering sacred relics from the Cathedral, her assurances sounded rather trustworthy.

Of course, it wasn’t that I completely disbelieved her explanation.

It was just that the notion of Veronica failing to persuade Lucia felt absurdly off, so I pushed back on it.

‘…Ah! If you’re that skeptical, just go and see for yourself!’

Seeing as we had the kind of relationship where she wouldn’t hesitate to accuse me of vilifying someone, Veronica was clearly upset.

In the end, I was left with no choice but to shadow her over to Lateran.

“What do you want me to do about your sulking? Ugh…”

“Hey, who told you to treat a woman without respect?”

“When have I ever treated her disrespectfully?”

“Hmph!”

Nonetheless, since I had accepted the request, I needed to fulfill my duties properly; after all, this wasn’t going to be a freebie.

After integrating the documents Sophia shared from the National Security Agency and the Military Intelligence Agency, the Royal Intelligence Department, the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the various think tanks under public-private institutions, and what worthy media outlets reported, my honest impression was this:

Yeah.

I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal.

How serious could Lucia possibly be, throwing a tantrum? Given that the Cult meetings were usually conducted secretly, the information agencies and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs couldn’t meticulously gather every remark and detail that passed among the discussions.

However, from the intel that had occasionally leaked, it seemed that while sharp opinions might clash, the overall atmosphere among both factions didn’t appear overly hostile. In fact, a participating Bishop in a certain meeting even testified it was a peaceful environment.

Thus, I deemed it that the Cult was merely overreacting out of fear of huge reparations.

I concluded so.

…So,

“Esteemed Brother Bishops and Cardinals, I simply cannot comprehend why discussions have stagnated for over a week since you’ve gathered here.”

“Why is it that no deliberation has come to fruition until I opened this door and you all scuttled in like cockroaches whispering among yourselves?”

“This is a statement of ‘loving discipline’ from innocent victims condemning the terrible morals of clergy that our Church has rationalized over the past millennium….”

“So, as a clergyman with the grandest and holiest mission, I graciously suggest that each esteemed brother and sister step forward to partake evenly.”

“I’m serving up how to neatly prostrate yourselves.”

That was before I encountered Lucia on the platform, who was persuading the aged clergymen while wielding a mace.

 

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