C101: Infiltrate plan

“Eheeehee! So that is what you meant, sir! You do look like a frightful rogue, so I naturally surmised the worst!”

“…” Arnold facepalmed.

Living as Izzy for some time had made her momentarily forget that she was currently controlling a male body.

Still—

‘This girl… what is she thinking?’

Mary giggled shamelessly, as if the misunderstanding had been entirely Arnold’s fault.

“So, what is the occasion, sir?”

Arnold didn’t bother explaining further. He flicked a shilling toward her. The coin spun in the air before landing neatly in her palm. Mary caught it with surprising reflex. Her eyes immediately lit up, sparkling with open delight.

“Ah—!”

She closed her fingers around it instinctively.

“When will Victor be absent from the church?”

Mary jolted slightly at the name.

Her shoulders stiffened. She glanced left and right nervously, like a small animal sensing danger.

“Sir… if you please.”

Instead of answering, she gestured for him to walk.

They turned into a side street, then another, moving through the village. The air was thick with the scent of mud, livestock, and fresh bread from a nearby oven. Women carried baskets past them. A cart rolled over uneven cobblestones. Chickens scattered underfoot.

Mary slowed her pace and leaned closer to Arnold, speaking softly beneath the murmur of village life.

With Field Vision active, Arnold’s senses were sharper than usual. He could hear her clearly despite the surrounding noise.

“Master Arnold. Father Victor… he rarely leaves the church.”

“Rarely?”

“Yes, sir. Father remains within the church premises most of the time. People often bring him provisions and sundries; he rarely finds the need to venture outside for such trifles.”

She thought for a moment, before speaking again, keeping her voice lower.

“Only when attending the outlying and pastoral duties does he truly venture beyond the churchyard.”

She hesitated, then turned and asked Arnold.

“But why do you inquire so, sir? Do you plan a heist on the church? Will you burn it down? What might I do to help?”

“?”

Why was this girl suddenly so aggressive?

“No. I’m a law-abiding citizen. I wouldn’t do anything bad for my reputation.”

“Eww. You sound like a bad man, Mister Arnold.”

“Hey?”

Mary giggled. Then a small sigh escaped her lips. She hitched the flower basket onto her elbow and walked silently.

“…”

“…”

Something felt off.

Mary seemed afraid of Victor.

Judging from her attitude, wasn't she far more hesitant when it came to the priest? He had noticed her reticence from the beginning, but he hadn't thought much of it then.

And throughout the day, Arnold had barely seen her near the school grounds. It was only yesterday, after taking the coin from him, that she introduced him to Victor.

What exactly was their relationship?

“You seem quite afraid of him. Why is that?”

“!”

Mary jumped back. She retreated a full step, clutching her flower basket tightly to her chest. The playful confidence drained from her face.

“…”

“…”

“It… I…”

Arnold stopped her, seeing the rising panic in her eyes.

“You don’t need to speak if you don’t want to.”

Mary’s eyes shimmered, like she was about to cry.

Arnold paused, considering his wording carefully. The black monument had warned him to be cautious of Mary.

He thought for a moment, searching for a better phrasing that wouldn’t directly trigger whatever unseen threat was around.

‘Let’s see…’ his mind raced to find a compelling reason, a temptation strong enough to entice her.

He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice.

“I have discovered some evidence,” Arnold whispered conspiratorially, deciding to probe her reaction. “About his pervasive corruption within the Church.”

*Gasp!*

Mary gasped, her eyes widening in genuine terror. She spun her head left and right, scanning the street in panic. Without hesitation, she grabbed Arnold’s sleeve and pulled him into a narrow, secluded corner between two old stone houses where the wind barely reached and foot traffic was scarce.

“Mister! Please, you mustn’t utter such blasphemy aloud!” she hissed. “If others were to overhear, you might find yourself executed for disregarding the sanctity of the Church!”

Arnold raised his eyebrows slightly.

“What if I can provide real proof?”

It was bullshit, of course. Izzy hadn’t found any concrete proof.

But earlier this noon, she had noticed the shrine room and the White Monarch statue.

‘My previous iteration won’t lie about such a thing.’

For now, she only needed to check whether the hidden mechanic the monument had provided her with would truly work. And if that was true, then there should indeed be a hidden study beneath the church.

If that was all true, then the “evidence” would be real.

Mary hesitated, her fingers tightening around the basket handle. She took a small step back.

“And since the Inspectors are already present in the village, they would undoubtedly punish him severely if such evidence were brought to light,” Arnold pressed, continuing his persuasion.

“...”

If nothing was found, he could still expose the hidden room beneath the statue, if it existed. Even without corruption, using the sacred statue of the White Monarch to conceal a private room would likely anger the Church authorities.

If their religion still adhered to common sense, they would not take kindly to the misuse of sacred symbols.

In one way or another, Arnold wasn’t entirely lying.

As for how he knew about the hidden space, that problem could be handled later, if the plan succeeded.

Mary stared at the ground for a long moment. Her shoulders rose and fell with shallow breaths. Then she slowly looked up.

“R… really?”

Arnold nodded. ‘As expected, Mary doesn’t like him.’

“Then… um, sir, what can I do to assist you?”

“Distract him.”

“Excuse?”

“Distract him for me,” he repeated, and tossed two shillings into her palm. The coins clinked softly against each other.

The girl looked at the coins glinting in her hand for a moment, then slowly craned her head up, a new resolve hardening her features.

“I–I shall try, Mister Arnold.”

—

Mary walked toward the church, her steps hesitant and slow, each one a struggle against an unseen current.

‘Father Victor… I beg your forgiveness, dear Mona. Pray, forgive me.’

She prayed silently in her heart.

There was something about the Father that made her skin crawl, a deep-seated nausea that coiled in her gut.

She did not know why. But his figure, his silhouette, made her remember something terrible, something she did not want to face.

The fire.

The scorching heat, the terrifying crackle of burning wood.

The way her mother had hugged her tightly, shielding her with her own body.

And… and… and something else, something violet.

‘Mary.’

‘Don’t cry, Mary.’

‘You will be brave, Mary. You will be strong, Mary.’

‘Smile, oh dear Mary.’

‘My Mary, our Mary.’

Her Ma’s gentle lullaby, a melody of comfort and reassurance, echoed in her head, calming her beating heart.

“Young Mary?”

Her body flinched, snapping her back to her senses.

Without realizing it, her feet had already carried her all the way to the church entrance.

‘…’

The church was more deserted, quiet than before. Most of the children had gone home for the day. The afternoon light stretched long shadows across the stone floor.

She lifted her gaze and met Victor’s eyes.

Father Victor stood near the steps, speaking with Vine, the girl who always followed Bennet around like a loyal puppy.

“Y-you! You dare to—” Vine’s face turned beet red as she pointed accusingly at Mary, causing Mary to flinch instinctively.

“Miss Vine.”

However, a calm, gentle voice interrupted her.

“Father?” Victor gently placed a hand on Vine’s shoulder, immediately diffusing her anger.

The girl blushed, she turned around sheepishly and gave a quick, deferential curtsy.

“Do not bully your friend, Vine. Such behavior is unbecoming.”

“Y-yes, father.”

Vine bowed her head obediently and walked away.

As she passed Mary, she did not forget to glare at Mary with angry, resentful eyes.

“Why did it have to be you? It's not fair,” she muttered before leaving.

“…”

“What is troubling you, young Mary?” Victor walked toward her and placed a gentle hand on her head.

Her breath hitched, and a wave of nausea assaulted her.

‘~Mary, it will be alright.’ A faint melody echoed again, easing her distress.

Mary squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and swallowed hard. She gripped her hand tightly, before forcing herself to speak.

“F–father. It is, I…” She stammered, fingers clutching her basket. “I… My Pa wishes to… discuss with you about… it.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Victor’s face. He smiled gently.

“Then, I take it you have agreed to this honour?”

“I–I am not yet certain, Father.”

He raised his eyebrows, but before he could press further, Mary continued, her voice gaining a hint of resolve.

“My Pa… I require his approval first.”

Victor nodded his head, his smile returning.

“I understand completely. Let us proceed, then.”

He placed his hands behind his back and began walking toward the church doors, gesturing for Mary to follow.

As she stepped forward, Mary cast one brief glance behind the church building. Her gaze was complicated: fear, conflict, and a faint, blazing hope flickering within it.

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