"Oh my… it seems your client was very satisfied," Alice said in a soft, amused voice.
Mara blushed, but she couldn't help smiling.
"I think so," she replied, leaning against the counter. "And… I was too."
Alice let out a low, warm laugh.
Mara laughed as well, shaking her head as she headed off to take a bath.
I think I should go to confess my sins more often, Mara thought wryly.
…
…
…
When she woke up, the first thing Reiko saw was the bedroom wall. Her sleep had been so light it felt as though she hadn't slept at all.
She was just about to get up when she suddenly heard Alice's voice speaking to Mara in that morning tone—gentle, yet firm.
Reiko stayed perfectly still, holding her breath, pretending to be deeply asleep, even though that was far from how she felt.
She heard Mara's sleepy mumbling, the rustle of the sheets as she moved, a long yawn, and then Alice's soft little laugh.
Reiko followed the sound of footsteps going up the basement stairs, fading away.
And then—silence.
When she heard nothing else, Reiko slowly sat up in bed, the blankets—already cold—sliding down over her legs.
Her gaze fixed on the empty space where, just minutes ago, Mara had been sleeping.
The mattress still held the faint indentation of her body.
What are you plotting? she thought, the words echoing inside her skull.
Only one obsessive question looped through her mind, over and over again.
Why does Mara act so normal? Almost like an ordinary girl—carefree, or even clumsy.
Her attention shifted to Alice.
Has she really not noticed? she wondered, recalling the calm way the blindfolded woman guided Mara around and treated her with tenderness. Has she truly felt nothing strange about her? Or is it that… she simply doesn't want to see it?
The day went by with a normalcy that Reiko found almost insulting. Since she wouldn't start her official duties until the next day, she limited herself to observing Mara.
She saw her trip over the edge of a rug, her focus with exaggerated concentration on folding a towel and her smile a little awkwardly at a client passing through reception.
Is that clumsiness real, or is it an act?, Reiko wondered, doubt gnawing at her from the inside.
Her gaze settled on Mara again as she wiped down a table in the dining room.
She scrubbed the same spot over and over, with an absurd level of focus for such a simple task.
What is she thinking about? she asked by herself, almost exasperated.
Reiko was so immersed in those silent, feverish thoughts that she barely registered the sound of the front door opening.
When she finally looked up from her corner at the reception desk, she saw a woman enter. She looked to be around forty—tall, with an upright posture, dressed in clothing that was somewhat revealing, yet unmistakably church attire.
Reiko activated her skill, "Meticulous Scan."
The woman's profile appeared like a flash of ethereal text: a support-type skill, related to protection and healing.
Reiko barely paid it any attention.
She watched as the nun exchanged a few polite words with Alice, as Alice gestured toward the stairs, and as the woman headed up to the second floor with silent steps.
Just another client.
And speaking of her, Reiko didn't have to wait long. Shortly after, she saw Mara return from the storage room.
Mara approached Alice, who told her something quickly, almost in a whisper. Mara nodded and disappeared again—this time heading down toward the shared bedrooms.
How many laps is this girl running? Reiko thought, irritation beginning to mix with anxiety.
The answer came soon enough.
Mara reappeared—and she was no longer wearing the loose, simple clothes from earlier.
This time, she had on a different outfit.
The change flipped a switch in Reiko's mind.
She's going to attend the nun.
Ugh… I guess I'll have to pause my observation for a bit, until her "special session" is over.
A sigh slipped from Reiko's throat.
Minutes passed, until at last, footsteps echoed down the stairs.
The nun appeared first.
Her face still wore that composed serenity—but something was different now: a brighter gleam in her eyes, a slight curve to her lips that hadn't been there before, an aura of … deep satisfaction.
She passed by the reception where Reiko sat, without flinching, without sparing her a glance, and stepped out into the night street, the door closing behind her with a soft click.
A moment later, Mara came down.
Her clothes—her blouse still neat—were slightly wrinkled, and a strand of her orange hair clung to her face with what Reiko assumed was sweat.
But her expression … wasn't euphoria, nor exhaustion.
It was something else entirely: a deep calm, a quiet satisfaction settling into her features like the stillness after a storm.
And then, as if merely seeing her had pulled a trigger, Reiko's skill activated again.
It wasn't a conscious decision—it was a reflex.
Once more, she stared at Mara's status window, for the tenth time that day, trying to reassure herself that she wasn't going insane.
Skill Assimilation.
Fire Immunity.
Control Threads.
Perfect Aim.
Lightweight Body.
Steel Reinforcement.
But the list… didn't end there.
Now, beneath Steel Reinforcement, a seventh line shone with tenacious light:
Forgiveness for Sinners
Tier: A
Owners: Lilyan, Mara
Grants the user healing for minor or superficial wounds, partial removal of fatigue, total protection against poison and curses. Can only be applied to one person at a time.
The air was ripped from Reiko's lungs as the name—Lilyan—echoed in her mind.
And then, like a puzzle snapping together all at once, the memory returned: protection and healing—the information she had dismissed moments ago as irrelevant.
It was the nun's skill.
Reiko froze.
Not in a physical sense, not out of fear—but because her entire thought process collapsed.
Her mind, so desperate for explanations, produced nothing but white, empty static.
What… what just happened?, Reiko thought, utterly stunned.