Chapter 6
The Retired Saintess Raises House Prices Episode 6
Episode 6
But the efficiency on days Shuana organized versus days she didn't was starkly different.
Everyone working in the kitchen voiced their complaints. If it was always a mess, they'd grudgingly search for tools and whip up food quickly, but on days Shuana tidied the kitchen, it was a breeze—only for the next day to be a disaster, making the discomfort feel twice as bad.
In the end, Paul and all the kitchen staff ended up waiting only for Shuana.
* * *
“Ugh, how many times did I tell you to clean the mud splatters off the walls……! Huh, it's clean. Who was on cleaning duty here today?”
“Eryl, but she called in sick. Bottom-tier Shu did it instead.”
“Bottom-tier Shu? Ha! She always walks around head down staring at the floor, and that habit finally came in handy. Did she clean the stair railings?”
“Yes, I saw Bottom-tier Shu using two brushes earlier. The round one and the flat one, twice over each.”
“……She did well. Her name's Shuana, right?”
“I think so?”
“Answer properly! Want to go to the prayer room?”
“Y-yes! Correct. Lady Barbara!”
Barbara grumbled with arms crossed, then muttered Shuana's name very softly.
“It's been a while since I had someone I like.”
Barbara, the low-rank saintess manager, ended up remembering Shuana's name too.
And thanks to Barbara and Paul, all the other low-rank saintesses memorized Shuana's name as well.
“Do it like Shuana!”
* * *
There was only one thing I had to do in this temple.
Find a way for a saintess to leave 'legitimately' before Raphael Winters lost his mind.
For that, I first needed to earn everyone's trust.
They say you can't fathom a person's heart even if you know the depths of ten fathoms of water?
But what if I kept regressing?
Lie down and rice cakes fall into your mouth, cold porridge follows, and you even chew gum for dessert.
“Shuana! Shuana! Where's your cleaning duty today?”
Paul spotted me from afar and came running.
This guy who always treated low-rank saintesses like dogs now waves frantically and dashes over whenever he sees me.
“Hello, Mr. Paul. I'm on library duty today.”
“Aigoo, when will it be the kitchen's turn again! I tried teaching the other low-rank saintesses how you organized, but they just won't listen.”
“Don't be too hard on them. I'm just grateful my humble method pleased the ever-strict Kitchen Chief Paul.”
“Eiygoo, so humble.”
“Humble? I'm truly delighted to be of even a little help to Kitchen Chief Paul, who handles meals for this holy temple!”
Paul fiddled with his mustache bashfully, then pulled a candy from his pocket.
“Don't share it with the others. Eat it yourself.”
“Ah…… No. Saintesses must share everything; I can't eat this alone.”
“You little fool, then why do saintesses have different clothes by rank? You low-rank ones bicker over seniority too.”
“Eyy, no…… It's all my fault anyway.”
I gave him a gentle smile.
Paul glanced around, unwrapped the candy, and quickly popped it into my mouth.
“You'll turn eighteen next month, right? When you come of age, I'll put in a word for you to become an upper-rank saintess, so remember that.”
“Guhk, cough!”
I pretended to choke in surprise, and Paul patted my back while chuckling good-naturedly before leaving.
As he said, I would become an upper-rank saintess.
I'd done it before, so I was sure.
Of course, one guy's word like Paul's wouldn't cut it. The low-rank saintess manager Barbara, mid- and upper-rank managers, and even the occasional priests I met all had to know my name through obedient diligence and humility.
And horrific levels of piety.
Low-rank saintesses weren't unqualified for prayer—they just lacked time and energy from endless chores.
The temple folks constantly belittled them for not praying.
But every late night, I knelt outside the prayer room, clasped my hands pretending devotion, and timed it perfectly to run into someone.
The conversations were always similar.
[What are you doing here?]
[Oh dear, you startled me.]
[I asked what you're doing.]
[Sorry, I was presumptuously praying. It's the only time after all my duties.]
[A low-rank saintess praying?]
[I was just thanking God for today's peaceful day…… Is that not allowed?]
[Why outside instead of going in?]
[As you see, I'm just a low-rank saintess. Does trash like me belong in the prayer room?]
[……No reason you can't. God wouldn't turn away a devout believer. What's your name?]
[Shuana. Priest.]
Then that priest would leave the prayer room open after duties from the next day on.
For some low-rank saintess overflowing with faith.
Shedding tears at dawn occasionally was the cherry on top.
When appointed upper-rank saintess, I had to refuse once first.
[Me, an upper-rank saintess? Preposterous!]
Then other saintesses and priests insist no one else deserves it, I refuse again.
That dawn, I go to the 'empty' prayer room, weep before the vaguely human-shaped statue, mumbling.
[Oh God, is this also your will? Dare I take such a heavy role……!]
Wahhh, heuuueek.
Loud sobs twice, then just drip tears staring at the statue's eye sockets.
Then the Great Saintess appears with a merciful smile, and the next day I'm an upper-rank saintess.
Fuck, always the same.
The real problem comes next.
Upper-rank saintesses get the stigmata carved on the back of their right hand, in plain sight.
The Great Saintess summons a blue flame and places it on the new upper-rank saintess's hand, etching a six-pointed star of two overlapping triangles.
They say it doesn't hurt, but who knows.
Maybe because I'm not from this world, I screamed the first time it burned hot.
[Aaaah!]
The moment I screamed, silence fell like cold water doused the room.
I sensed it instinctively.
Time to start over.
I got tried as a witch and burned at the stake again.
Next regression, I stole a key right away and snuck into the document archive.
Among the dust-covered piles, I found records of Shuana's family home and the fates of saintesses who'd left before.
Saintesses who couldn't endure temple life and fled outside fell into three categories.
Labeled witches and burned.
Chased by mobs, beaten to death in the streets.
Or went missing.
I wanted the third.
Leave and go missing.
Then somehow hide my saintess status and survive while escaping.
But only upper-rank saintesses left the temple.
One of their duties was 'purification.'
With temple permission, go to evil-infested places, sincerely pray to purify them, and return.
Of course, no records showed actual purification.
They boasted 'prevented greater disasters,' but if nothing changed, wasn't it just a show?
Anyway, to leave this damned temple, I had to become an upper-rank saintess.
But I didn't know I'd have to endure a burning hand without screaming.
Still, I overcame it!
I can do this!
I'm a king oyster mushroom!
After being burned alive, a hand's nothing.
After several regressions, I reached the point of smiling in感動 while watching the stigmata etch into my hand via flame.
The Great Saintess smiled in satisfaction, and the other priests and saintesses applauded in celebration.
Pfft, you soft medieval weaklings.
How would you know the tough grit in Korean genes that endures torture?
Revolutionary peninsula, long live the Republic of Korea.
