I Became a Fortune Teller in the Game My Little Sister Made – Chapter 169

I hit the bone.

Fortunately, it was just my shoulder that was dislocated. If Eun-ha had exerted more strength while holding my neck, I don’t even want to think about the gruesome scene that could have unfolded.

I dislike how I’m getting used to situations like this…

“Hey, hey! Is your shoulder okay…?”

“Thanks for the mixed signals, Liu. Please remember that a fortuneteller’s body is quite delicate.”

“Namgoong Min…”

“Rain, while it’s good to feel guilty, please fix my shoulder. It’s really painful having it half-set.”

“Is our Min okay?”

“…If you just let go of my neck, I think I’d be fine.”

“I’ll have to decline.”

“Ah…”

It gives me goosebumps to have my neck held like that. Is it because it’s directly related to life and death?

Anyway, those who were responsible for the dislocated shoulder skillfully set the bone back in place.

…What’s with that? Why are you guys so skilled?

“Um, Liu? Your touch feels rather familiar.”

“Ah, well… I might have had some experience torturing debtors. I had to pull bones out back then, you know.”

“…Rain?”

“…Arthur’s family is originally a line of executioners…”

Oh right. That’s why during the Skill Thief incident, they brought the culprit in for torture.

One’s a debtor, and one belongs to an executioner family.

On the surface, they look like girls who have never gone through tough times, but their words are chilling.

Crunch.

“Ah, shit.”

After somehow resetting my shoulder bones, I glared at the person responsible for all this.

“Cloel… Could you please explain in more detail?”

“…”

“Cloel?”

“Uh, yes!? Ah, um, yes…”

What’s that? Why is she acting like that? Like she’s seen something unpleasant…

‘…Ah.’

Seeing a shoulder dislocate and then being put back in place right in front of me could be perceived as half a threat.

It’s good that Cloel obediently replied, but the price was an unfamiliar pain, so it really wasn’t worth it.

‘There weren’t many instances of dislocations when I was learning from that cultist.’

I’ve experienced being hit and breaking bones, but having one pulled out is definitely a new experience.

I shouldn’t experience this again.

“So, what’s this sudden talk about marriage?”

“Uh…”

“Hey, non-believer. Namgoong Min has asked three times already. Are you going to answer or what?”

“I-I’m sorry!”

Before I knew it, my persona had switched from Eileen to the Saint, and as I shouted, Cloel, with her head bowed, began to speak up gradually.

“I… I might need to get married…”

“…Are you referring to the Inquisition?”

“Y-yes! I’m still a candidate, but… I need to get married to become an Inquisitor…”

It’s obvious why Cloel Martina wants to become an Inquisitor.

‘It’s because of that Saint, isn’t it?’

However, even though the church would allow her to become a nun and take the Martina name, they must have deemed it too risky for her to become an Inquisitor.

She’s still just a candidate, but there’s no way Cloel would be appointed as an Inquisitor unless that Saint steps down.

But marriage…?

“Please elaborate a bit more.”

“Umm… After getting married, I have to prove that I have no ulterior motives towards Raphael in order to become an Inquisitor…”

“…What the hell?”

“What did you say?”

“I said, what the hell.”

Damn, is that what they’re saying? The Saint and the Saintess must remain chaste? So the Saint must also be a virgin?

From an objective standpoint, Cloel Martina, my step-sister, is a wonderful beauty. While the Saint feels pressure from Cloel, there wouldn’t be anything unusual if someone else harbored feelings for her.

So, is this a way to block any chance of sullying the Saint, by tying the knot with someone else?

That’s an offense to the extreme degree of overprotectiveness.

Overprotection to maintain the secrets of the Job called <Saint>, to ensure the Saint’s purity.

‘And…’

Cloel Martina is genuinely trying to get closer to the Inquisition, or specifically to Raphael, even if it means marriage.

She doesn’t realize how much of a burden that is for the Saint.

“What the hell…?”

“Cloel, you seem rather oblivious, but… don’t you already know?”

“What, know what?”

“The church doesn’t want you to get close to the Saint. Even if you were to marry me, do you really think you’d be able to escape from being a candidate for the Inquisition?”

“……So it’s you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rich tycoon, psychic, crown princess. I’ve only heard their names, but they are people who can exert influence in the church. If I were to marry you, a friend of those influential figures….”

…Ah, damn.

“Why on earth would I marry you? As you said, I have wonderful friends. Is there any reason to marry a nun who swung a mace at me on our first meeting?”

“…”

“More importantly, you mentioned that you’d marry me to exert influence over the church. Then I should get something in return.”

“That…”

“If you’re trying to use me, then I’ll have to use you as well. Oh, and let’s not get into anything that involves sacrificing my body. I’ll admit you’re an objectively attractive woman, but you’re not my type. And do you think your virginity carries any value that would shake the church to its core?”

“…”

“Cloel Martina, candidate for the Inquisition. Step-sister of Saint Raphael Martina. Official nun affiliated with the church. Speak up and let’s hear you demonstrate your worth.”

I don’t like people like Cloel.

People who can’t weigh values and mistakenly think that what’s precious to them is precious to others.

…But I don’t hate them.

The only ones I hate are the con artists like that cultist.

“I… I…”

“Is my statement difficult to grasp? Let me rephrase. If you wish to marry me to make use of my influence and connections, then it is only proper for you to offer me a commensurate return. A return substantial enough to leverage my connections.”

“…uh.”

“I don’t need money. A rich tycoon is my friend. Power isn’t very useful either. A psychic is my friend. Military strength is of no need. A crown princess is my friend. Not to mention, I don’t need your body. If I had to choose, Eileen here suits my taste the most.”

“…”

“Beyond what I just mentioned, can you offer me anything? Something that only you can provide, that’s truly unique to you?”

“…No, there isn’t.”

“Then don’t casually bring up marriage. And it’s not that I’m saying you should cherish your body. It might seem to you that marrying me is quite a concession, but I don’t feel any significant value in marrying you.”

“…Yeah.”

…But what crime does Cloel bear?

My situation is special, yet for a girl of Cloel’s caliber to propose marriage is surely an honor.

Moreover, has Cloel ever compared values, being someone from the back alleys? It must have been hard to recognize worth, having been born into a lacking environment.

That’s why I felt a faint sense of contempt.

Not for Cloel, but for myself.

‘…Damn.’

I intentionally use coarse language to seize control and shift the atmosphere toward my side.

I excessively dismantle the other person’s words and repeatedly point out their mistakes, thus making them feel intimidated.

Maintaining the stance of I’m right and you’re wrong, while creating the illusion of granting opportunities.

All that, carried out so naturally, reflexively, just as I’ve done all my life.

Deceptively engaging and inciting others.

“Don’t you return to the church on the day the交流会 ends?”

“Well… that’s true…”

“On the day you return to the church.”

──Fortunetellers are ultimately of that ilk.

“As a candidate for the Inquisition, please take the fortuneteller with you.”

It’s all I can do; nothing more.

*

The Saint looked at Namgoong Min with her <Eye for Reading Hearts>.

She bore a smile, but inside her, he was far from smiling.

‘How’s my brother…?’

‘…He’s rotting away.’

Originally, <Eye for Reading Hearts> doesn’t show others’ feelings accurately, but Namgoong Min was particularly severe.

It doesn’t mean he’s hard to get through to. In fact, Namgoong Min’s heart is wide open.

But the feelings inside him were too artificial.

It felt like he had simply copied the notion of being ‘someone seen favorably by others.’

Instead, it creates a sense of discomfort.

‘…Namgoong Min.’

The Saint clearly remembers that day.

The day just before Eileen disappeared, the day she almost gave up on coexisting with Eileen.

The day the Saint revealed the cruel truth to her.

And simultaneously, the day she was saved by Namgoong Min.

She remembers every single word he said that day.

‘Perhaps…’

‘Saint Sister?’

‘Namgoong Min has been…’

Having lost her parents to the fortuneteller, she kneeled before him, only for the sake of her younger sister.

While she despised the fortuneteller for destroying her family and loathed con artists, she couldn’t escape that which she learned.

Until Namgoong Min could smile so ‘perfectly’ again.

How rotten and decayed had he become inside till he reached that point?

Who can understand and comfort his pain?

Is merely standing by, believing he can overcome it alone, the right thing to do?

‘…….’

The Saint turned her gaze away from the non-believers.

Unlike her, who was looking at Namgoong Min, the non-believers merely glared at Cloel Martina.

They spewed hatred and disgust at her for daring to mention marriage to Namgoong Min.

…Why?

‘What I should see right now is…’

Not some nun, but Namgoong Min, whom they so often profess to love.

The non-believers… no.

‘Am I the real non-believer?’

The non-believers, the rich tycoon, the psychic, the crown princess all believe in Namgoong Min.

It transcends simple trust. It’s an almost fanatic belief.

So, they’re not non-believers. They’re perhaps the most devout believers.

But what about me?

‘I…’

To the Saint, Namgoong Min is a deity.

No matter what happens, he’s an object of faith, an absolute truth that must be believed.

Yet the Saint, who should serve, cannot believe in her god.

‘…Eileen.’

‘Sister?’

‘Do you believe in Namgoong Min?’

‘Of course, I do.’

‘I see.’

I’m sorry, Eileen.

I can’t believe it.

That he could overcome such a wound on his own.

That he could manage just fine with no help at all…

So…

‘Even if Namgoong Min finds it displeasing…’

I want to help him.

Not merely with money, power, or strength.

But something more──

“Namgoong Min.”

“…Eileen?”

“I also want to go to the church.”

In an instant, everyone’s gaze turned to the Saint.

Some looked at Namgoong Min with confusion, others questioned Cloel with a “What are you talking about?” glance, and there were the believers, filled with jealousy.

Bearing all that, she only looked at Namgoong Min.

“Is that okay?”

“Hey, you can’t just decide that──”

“Isn’t it possible? I’m the Saint, after all.”

“──What?”

Most of those present were aware that Eileen Teddy Bear was the Saint.

Namgoong Min certainly knew, and even the mediator recognized her during his glimpse into the past.

But one person there didn’t know that fact.

“Saint…? Oh, yes?”

Flap.

Wings sprouted from Eileen’s back, and a halo floated above her head.

Cloel, who witnessed the proof of <Holy Radiance> with her own eyes, stared wide-eyed as if they might pop out, while the Saint smiled at the bewildered Namgoong Min.

“I’m sorry, Namgoong Min.”

This was the only method that came to mind to follow you.

Since I learned it from you, please don’t hate me too much.

‘Even if Namgoong Min ends up disliking me…’

I am your Saint, and your servant who worships you as my God.

So, just this once, please forgive my stubbornness.

I will definitely…

‘Heal your heart’s wounds.’