My magic panel is too numerical.

The church at dawn, the confessional in a dim light.

"I implore God to bless me, for I have sinned. My best friend sleeps in class every day and is about to fail his entrance exam for magic university. As his best friend, I failed to persuade him to stay home. I am deeply ashamed of this..."

"On behalf of Heaven, I pray for your forgiveness for all your sins..."

"I implore God to bless me, for I have sinned. I used to have a very obedient student, but recently he has suddenly started sleeping in class every day. It must be because my lessons have been very boring lately, but I actually kicked him out of the classroom out of anger and shame. I am very ashamed of this..."

"On behalf of Heaven, I pray for your forgiveness for all your sins..."

"..."

Christina's eye twitched, and she was speechless. What kind of weirdos come to repent every day?

She was just feeling down lately and on a whim decided to listen to some gossip.

When it was time for her shift, Christina had had enough of the formalities. She threw off her nun's veil, let her long blonde hair fall loose, and stormed into the lounge.

Boring! So incredibly boring!

The lounge is where priests enjoy communion and entertain guests.

Today, Father Green was unusually reserved because two important figures had come to the Church of Dawn: Christina, the "Actress," and Cardinal Byron.

The important figures were having a great time chatting.

"The sun and moon shining together... How long has it been since such a high-level phenomenon has occurred..." Cardinal Byron remarked, sitting in a mechanical chair equipped with four limbs.

"Your Excellency the Bishop, you called me here today just to complain? I'm very busy and don't want to hear the clatter of your chair." Christina stuffed a crunchy piece of honey-scented bread into her mouth.

Father Green knew from the aroma that the bread came from Mrs. Rowling on Buick Street.

Cardinal Byron, exasperated, jumped down from his chair.

He stared blankly at the stained-glass window, recalling that day, that dazzling, holy light that pierced through the thick fog, and said, "His Holiness the Pope has recently been very disappointed with our city of Castile. Chris, think about it, how long has it been since we've produced a young person with potential?"

"You don't need to hint, Your Excellency, the other party is not willing to join the church," Christina stated bluntly.

"I can tell that young man is lazy on the surface, but his eyes are full of desire for power. I think he doesn't choose the church because he dislikes its formalities," Byron judged.

Christina picked up a sachet, spread a large spoonful of honey on it, and asked, "So, what does His Excellency the Bishop mean?"

"Talented individuals who awaken to extraordinary phenomena are never bound by constraints. We must give them enough tolerance and patience. I tend to win people over with virtue."

"How do you take it?" Christina asked, taking a big gulp.

A burst of sweetness explodes on your taste buds.

"I've looked up the information. Pharos Hastings had a serious illness not long ago, and his recovery from that illness was a miracle in itself," Byron recalled.

"What illness?"

"Black blood disease".

Christina's expression hardened; she had never heard of "black blood disease" being curable.

It was a terminal illness within the empire.

It is said that the disease directly erodes the "spirit," causing the patient's entire body to turn black, blood vessels to become enlarged and turn scarlet, and in severe cases, the whole body to ulcerate, while in milder cases, the brain may die.

It is also transmissible from person to person, but fortunately the spread is not fast at present, and the mortality rate is extremely high. Its spread has been contained by the joint efforts of the three major powers of the empire.

"A miracle..." Christina murmured repeatedly, recalling the boy's appearance bathed in holy light the day before yesterday.

Byron continued, "His family wasn't wealthy; the treatment had drained all their savings. The reason Faros tried to get in touch with Moretti was also for money."

"and then?"

"Doesn't he need money for college? We can hire him as a non-staff member of the church and give him a top salary."

"Then he wouldn't lack money, and he'd have even less reason to join the church, right?" Christina retorted.

"No! The preferential treatment we give him may not be reciprocated by the academy. Once he successfully enters the magic academy and discovers the outside world is full of storms, and recalls all the things the church has done for him, believe me, he will return to the church."

"I understand. The church wants to influence him and protect him from the storm. The idea is correct... but what if he enters the academy and finds that it's not raining at all?"

"Magic universities are never short of geniuses. He should go out and see the world to better understand himself. Just like you, Chris, have you ever imagined that you, who have become an 'Agent,' would be beaten so badly by a 16-year-old?"

Byron directly reopened Christina's wounds.

A long silence fell over the air.

Suddenly, Father Green knocked politely on the door and interrupted, "Ms. Christina, 'Agent,' excuse me for disturbing you, but there is a young man outside named Pharos who says he has something very urgent to discuss with you."

Father Green shouldn't have needed to announce it, as there were plenty of people who wanted to see Miss "Agent," with suitors lining up from Castile to Moonshadow City.

But Father Green had some recollection of Mr. Pharos meeting with Miss "Actress" in the confessional.

Byron asked with interest, "Oh? Could it be that Miss Chris has been in contact with him privately?"

Christina explained, "He's kind of my brother's... student."

She didn't like the word "employee," so she chose the word "student."

"He's just a student who didn't even get into magic university, what urgent matter could he possibly have?" Byron sneered. "But let him in anyway; we should give promising talents some preferential treatment and attention."

Byron felt that boys of this age were all at the stage of puberty.

Having witnessed Christina's spectacular battle firsthand that day, it's perfectly normal for the young man to feel a stirring of romantic feelings.

After all, there are indeed many people who pursue or admire Christina, stretching from Castile to Moon Shadow City.

Perhaps, using this relationship, we could lure him into the church; wouldn't that be even better?

…………

As before, Miss Crow did not enter the church.

Passing by the confessional, I saw a long queue.

Pharos glanced at the "Agent" lady, who was devouring sweets, and was somewhat speechless.

If you're slacking off here, then all those people who bought indulgences are losing money, aren't they? Miss Christina, this is fraud!

Pharos immediately placed his right hand on his left chest, the standard gesture for paying homage to a high-ranking official: "Your Excellency, Miss 'Agent,' um... may the heavens be with you!"

"Wasn't the ceremony supposed to be this afternoon? What's the rush, kid?" Christina raised an eyebrow, somewhat exasperated. "I'm not responsible for a young boy's physical needs."

Pharos glanced at the bishop, and suddenly felt conflicted.

"I understand young people whispering," Byron said, suppressing a sly smile. He gave Christina a knowing look. "Chris, think about what I'm saying. After all, Dawntown is your territory."

I watched Bishop Byron leave.

Pharos discovered... that the old man seemed to have forgotten his mechanical wheelchair here.

The old man's memory really isn't very good.

Pharos grinned and said, "Miss Christina, I've stumbled upon something big."

"Mr. Pharos, you need to understand that nothing is a big deal in front of the 'Agent'," Christina said calmly, a slight tremor at the corner of her mouth.

Pharos nodded.

"Here's what happened, I was on my way..." Pharos recounted what he had seen along the way, omitting his speculations about the demon, because Miss Raven could not be exposed yet, and the Church's attitude towards demon wielders was still unclear.

"That white giant...is back again?" Christina's face grew increasingly grim as she listened, her fingers trembling and her face turning pale.

Her delicate body trembled, and the half-eaten sliced ​​bread she was holding fell onto the table.

She got up and strode towards the door, without any elegance or restraint.