Ch.130Ch.8 – Outside(?)

# 1929. 7. 1. PM 12:20

Southern Cathedral

A week has passed.

Mass is in full swing in the cathedral courtyard. There are so many people that they’re spilling onto the roadside. Even when the cathedral was intact, the crowds weren’t small, but now that it’s half-collapsed, even more people have gathered.

Father Michael explained it as “similar to visiting your parents when you hear they’re ill,” but the number of people flocking here seemed excessive for that explanation.

Nevertheless, the priest appeared pleased. What priest wouldn’t be happy to see his congregation grow? Thanks to this, Father Michael and the nuns have been extremely busy.

Except for Abassina.

“This is suffocating.”

It wouldn’t matter when we’re alone, but right now we’re in public. Abassina has her eyes covered with a black cloth instead of her usual eye patch.

“Aren’t you actually uncomfortable?”

Crayfield folded the Pollard Times and placed it on his lap.

“But it’s cumbersome,” she complained.

“I’m just saying, since you’re stuck to my assistant’s side either way.”

“Be quiet before I confiscate all your cigarettes.”

Crayfield grinned as he pulled out a fresh cigarette.

We’re blocking the path behind the cathedral that leads to the priest’s residence and the convent. We’ve brought chairs and a table to prevent unwelcome visitors.

Since the partial collapse of the cathedral, all sorts of people have been coming around. Pickpockets and petty thieves were always around, but the problem was that police, firefighters, and government officials were also wandering about.

When the water department people came, it was fine, but when vigilantes arrived under the pretext of maintaining order, both Crayfield and I became a bit tense.

There was even a man who dropped his pants and urinated in public. Fortunately, he didn’t recognize us.

No matter who came, we blocked access to the priest’s residence and the convent. The official reason was that it was “private property” and buildings unrelated to the half-collapsed main cathedral, but the real reason was the alcohol.

By great fortune, the cathedral’s basement storage remained intact. But since people needed to access the storage for construction work, we moved all the alcohol to the convent and priest’s residence under cover of night. As a result, Crayfield sat fidgeting like a cat in front of a fish shop.

“I think I smell whiskey faintly, there must be a broken bottle somewhere, so I should check…”

“Shut up. Sit down.”

And that’s why Abassina is with us. I simply couldn’t dissuade him from his stubbornness.

“I’m joking. Just joking.”

Of course, Crayfield acts completely innocent.

“Anyway, my assistant and I are working.”

That’s true. Under the pretext of maintaining order at the cathedral, Father Michael entrusted me and Crayfield with security duties. There was no fee, but Crayfield gladly accepted. His reason was that he could bear to see the cathedral collapse but couldn’t stand to see the alcohol stolen.

“Well, it’s not entirely free. I asked Father Michael for a favor. To put in a good word with Mrs. Margaret. Then the lady would be delighted that ‘finally, the thunderous rascal from the second-floor office who feared neither God nor devil has opened his eyes to faith, if only a little.’ After all, whether cathedral or church, they believe in the same Father.”

“What’s the benefit of getting on her good side?” Abassina asked.

Crayfield scratched the side of his head.

“Mrs. Margaret is the head of the Pollard Pharmacists Association. She’s issued warnings to all pharmacies not to prescribe sedatives to Crayfield. So if I get on her good side, that might be resolved.

By the way, Sister, I don’t attend church or cathedral, but I have read the Bible. If I remember correctly, the Lord said He would tear down ‘not one stone left upon another’ and rebuild it in three days. Doesn’t that apply to the Southern Cathedral?”

Abassina bent over laughing.

“Well, maybe because only half of it collapsed? I hear the restoration will take quite a while. It’s quite an old building, so there’s a lot to fix.”

I looked at the cathedral.

Heavy machinery moved back and forth, clearing away piles of fallen stones. Surveyors and designers examined the cross-section of the building, while laborers diligently unloaded materials. Many of the workers were from the slums, and thanks to an anonymous donor, they could be paid daily wages.

This ‘anonymous donor’ had also provided a substantial portion of the funds needed for rebuilding the cathedral. The reason he remained anonymous was likely because he saw no reason to reveal his identity.

People speculated about whether Giovanni Savio still had any faith left, wondering if he was afraid of his sins now that he was getting older.

“It’s because of my youngest brother, Michael.”

That’s what Aurora told me three days ago when she secretly called me out.

“He submitted his discharge papers. Father summoned him. Father has left Michael a significant share and has disposed of several assets in his own name. Among them were accounts that wouldn’t be problematic if kept but would be troublesome if transferred to others, and he gave all that money to the cathedral. The succession is beginning.”

Aurora wasn’t wearing gloves. I asked if she was in disguise to meet me, but she shook her head.

“No. Father hasn’t decided who will be the left and right hands. He hasn’t decided who will be the ruler to succeed him either.”

I asked if she was being disciplined for foolishly losing money in Arkham. After all, the Yig temple fragment she won at auction had become useless. But Aurora shook her head again.

“It actually worked out better. Thanks to you and that annoying Emma Scully saving the bank manager and my lawyer’s lives, I’ve gained more privileges at Arkham Bank. If this investment goes well, I might acquire that auction house too. I’ve already bought that… rude clerk’s café.”

I couldn’t understand why her expression was so dark.

She had definitely changed since returning from Arkham. It would be difficult to say she was “scared” just because a woman who used to be reckless had become a bit more composed, but she certainly seemed more thoughtful.

“I’ll tell you later. Take care of yourself.”

She gave me a light kiss and disappeared down the alley.

“Well, it’s a good thing. You saw how lukewarm Mayor Arthur Black’s reaction was.”

The mayor visited the site only two days after the incident, in contrast to the city council members who came the day after the collapse and made a fuss.

In front of reporters, Mayor Black stated that “an unacceptable incident occurred, and it’s a miracle there were no casualties,” and expressed his intention to “strengthen the management of aging buildings in the future.” As a bonus, he took several photos standing alongside Father Michael. However, when a reporter asked about “the cause of the collapse,” he briefly answered, “It’s under investigation.”

In truth, he had nothing else to say. Officially, the cause of the cathedral’s collapse remained unknown. The report finally stated only that “it is presumed that the aging cathedral facility collapsed about halfway due to the previous night’s heavy rain and lightning.”

Strangely, despite the supposedly tremendous noise, no one in the surrounding area heard even a single brick fall. Because of this, the fire and police departments only sent people after Father Michael made a direct report.

Everyone found it odd that despite the heavy rain the night before, neither the sound nor the vibration of such a large building collapsing was felt, but since both Father Michael and the nuns testified only that “when we went out during the rain, the cathedral was already like this,” there was no way to find fault. After all, why would clergy destroy their own sanctuary?

“Well, that’s Yig’s power. Confusing the senses and twisting the world. He’s as cunning as a snake. But the reason Yig is called simple is that what he tries to achieve through such acts is too obvious. The means are various, but the purpose is singular, making it easy to understand.”

As Crayfield took another deep drag of his cigarette, a sharp voice came from behind.

“But people still fall for it even when they know better, don’t they?”

Emma Scully is hiding in the convent. She said she would stay in Pollard for the time being. Her reason was that Mayor Black and Senator Annette Cole hadn’t given up.

Those two had literally tried to offer Pollard as a sacrifice. If both fragments were purchased with the city’s budget, the owner of the tablet would be Pollard City itself, not an individual, and if the tablet was desecrated, Yig would have destroyed the entire city of Pollard.

“That’s what’s most frightening. Some people know that ruin awaits at the end, but the process in between is so sweet that they easily fall into it. Like the cigarettes you smoke every day, Crayfield. You must know well about the outcome of smoking.”

“Well, your sister wasn’t so picky about my smoking habit.”

“I’m Emma, not Catherine.”

“Magicians are more prickly than doctors, I see.”

“It’s not that I dislike cigarettes, I dislike the smell. The smell…”

The two began arguing again. The sarcastic Crayfield and the sharp-edged Emma were incompatible personalities.

Abassina gently tugged at my arm.

“Ah, that’s better.”

Entering the convent’s inner courtyard, Abassina threw off her eye patch. The construction noise still reached here, but at least her eyes were comfortable. Moreover, this was a somewhat secluded place, so there was no worry of being discovered by others unless they deliberately came looking.

“Beast. Do you think so too? That the cathedral collapsed?”

Anyone could see it was half-collapsed. That’s why construction was underway. But Abassina’s words seemed to mean something else.

“I don’t think it collapsed. The building collapsed, but not the sanctuary. Those are different.”

I said I didn’t understand the difference.

“When you think of a sanctuary, you think of things like comfort, protection, a sacred place… a safe haven that protects me comfortably, where I can rest at ease. Even if you feel abandoned by everything in the world, it’s the one place where your heart can lean.

Everyone builds at least one sanctuary in their heart. I do, and so do you. Those people out there do too. The believers have gathered, the priest and nuns are here, and the mass is proceeding properly. The sanctuary hasn’t collapsed. That’s what I believe.”

Small birds chirped as they flew above our heads. Abassina closed her eyes and looked up at them.

“That’s why I pity that woman.”

I asked who she meant.

“Aurora Savio. When I drank your blood, I read her memories. The incident at the bank, and what happened afterward.”

I was glad Abassina had her eyes closed. My face had turned bright red. If she had read what happened “afterward,” that meant she had seen what happened at the hideout too.

“Her sanctuary is money and blood, gunpowder and violence. But when she was truly terrified of death, what saved her wasn’t money or blood or gunpowder or violence, but you, Beast. Just as you saved me. You saved that woman too.”

Abassina leaned her body against my shoulder.

“I told you. The sanctuary is in the heart. But the sanctuary in one’s own heart too easily collapses, is forgotten, disappears. That’s why we lean on the sanctuaries of others. The wicked use such faith for violence and greed. The good share it for each other.”

I thought of the Breath of Fire. The vine growing inside the heart. The reason it tries to imitate humans but can never reach them is perhaps because there is no place within her for others to dwell.

Then what is inside me? Do I have room for these people? Have I ever leaned on others? Something stirred in my heart. Something completely different from the vine.

But I couldn’t continue my thoughts. Abassina had climbed onto my lap and was hugging me tightly.

“So I don’t think badly of what you did with that woman. But I’m a little jealous about just letting it go?”

The fresh scent of garden flowers wafted up.

– Ch.8 – And There Was Nothing End –

### Fatal Error Occurred ###

### Outro Video File Not Found ###

Note.

From ‘Overeating Games’ General Affairs Department to the Development Studio.

The ‘Player’ controversy that erupted on the forum shows signs of escalating into a class action lawsuit.

Consumers are claiming that “promising a prize proportional to sales to the first person to beat the game, while making the game impossible to beat, is fraudulent,” and this opinion is spreading through forums and internet boards.

Various media outlets, including the specialist magazine ‘Otaku,’ are covering this issue in depth, and several law firms are recruiting participants for a class action lawsuit.

Therefore, the company’s legal team suggests that Drugstore, the responsible PD, should try playing the game himself to demonstrate that it is not fraud.

They propose making Drugstore’s own challenge list public and showing that the “Clear” task has been achieved, arguing that people would then accept and acknowledge this.

Of course, the cumulative prize marketing would continue as before, with Drugstore only proving that the game can be beaten.

We would like to hear the opinion of Drugstore, the Executive PD, on this matter.

– Re: Response.

I will consider it positively. However, some bugs have been discovered in the recent patch, so I will proceed after fixing them. That is all. – Drugstore