Sister Theresia's Testimony
Sister Theresia, of course. It was too early to be certain. I hadn't found any solid proof yet. But there were plenty of suspicious circumstances. Not just the green eyes, but her build and voice felt remarkably similar. And that unique aura, or whatever you want to call it. There were definitely quite a few striking resemblances between the two.
[Planning to ask her?]
'Who knows.'
Asking rashly might backfire. It could just heighten her suspicions, make her hide her identity even more thoroughly, or worst of all, ensure she never shows up again. I needed solid evidence first. Instead of direct interrogation, it would be better to subtly lead her into spilling the information herself. But questions that were too obvious would tip off even Sharon. On the other hand, twisting them too much would make it hard to discern the truth. For now, maybe toss out a light bait.
"What do you usually do after classes end?"
"Why do you ask?"
It was just a casual, everyday question—nothing suspicious—yet her response was sharp. Was this an overreaction to protect her identity? Honestly, it was more likely just Sharon's usual personality. Cold and curt, with a somewhat emotionless tone.
"Just curious. This is the first time we've been alone together, right? We hardly ever talk."
"You're not the only one. It's the same with the other kids."
What a tricky response. The conversation wasn't flowing smoothly; it kept cutting off abruptly. This was what they called a voluntary loner. It wasn't that everyone was shunning Sharon—she was the one keeping everyone at bay. Not that I was in any position to judge.
Still, to probe her true feelings, I forced the talk to continue.
"Yeah, fair enough. Anyway, you gonna answer my question or not?"
"I just stay home."
"Hmm... really?"
Was that the truth? There wasn't enough info to speculate. With her answers stuck at one-word replies, how was I supposed to gather anything? I wanted to sigh in frustration.
"We're here. The church."
"Oh, yeah."
In the meantime, we'd arrived at our destination. It had a completely different vibe from how it looked at night. I hadn't noticed before, but in the bright daylight, the church seemed awfully shabby and rundown. For something built in the capital of Britannia, wasn't it a bit too pathetic?
"Let's go in."
"Okay."
I took the lead and gently pushed open the closed church door. No one was around, probably because it wasn't service time. Even if it had been, I doubted many people would show up.
Glancing around the empty space, I cautiously called out.
"Hello? Is anyone here?"
Soon, there was a rustling from inside, and someone appeared. A young woman in a nun's habit.
"Who might you be?"
Her voice was soft and pure.
[I sense a devout faith from her.]
'Yeah.'
[Can't you serve me with the same fervor as that child?]
'The Goddess has to act like one first if she wants my faith.'
Right. I shouldn't be chattering like this with someone right in front of me. I snapped back to reality and explained our visit.
"Hello. We're classmates of Yulia's."
"Ah, I see. You must be the students she mentioned who were coming for the interview."
"Yes, that's us."
Just as Yulia had said, she'd apparently warned Theresia we'd be dropping by. She greeted us with a warm smile.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Theresia."
Sister Theresia. In the original story, she was one of the key supporting characters with significant weight. She mostly appeared alongside Yulia at first, but as time passed, she grew close to the protagonist, Layered, becoming a reliable ally who helped the main party throughout.
"I'm Kro."
"Sharon."
After brief introductions, we moved to a lounge-like room inside the church. As we entered, Theresia gave an awkward smile.
"It's a bit humble, so please forgive the mess."
"No, not at all."
It was small and the facilities were worn, but it was clean and well-kept—no dirt or clutter. It even felt a little exciting, like touring ancient ruins.
Once seated, we chatted lightly before starting the interview.
"How's Yulia doing? Settling in well at the Academy?"
"Of course. She's the most popular in our class."
"Oh my. That's wonderful. Hehe."
No lies there. Yulia was genuinely one of the most popular students, not just in our class but across the whole year.
"You two must be popular too."
"Huh...?"
"You're both so handsome and beautiful."
Her sudden praise caught me off guard. Objectively speaking, it wasn't wrong. Sharon went without saying—she was on a level that didn't pale next to Yulia, the original story's heroine, in looks alone. It was just a matter of taste why they split opinions. Her unique personality kept people from approaching easily, like she was a priceless artwork to be admired from afar.
I wasn't bad-looking either. If I had to classify, I'd say I fell into the handsome category. Not narcissism—the body of this Kro guy I'd possessed had a solid frame. He was just doomed to extra status because the author overlooked him.
But ultimately, Theresia was wrong. Unlike Yulia, we weren't popular social butterflies. Sharon at least had a presence; I was a total invisible loner, forgotten even by my classmates.
"Haha..."
Of course, I couldn't admit that outright. An awkward laugh was all I could muster to brush it off.
"Shall we start the interview now?"
"Ah, yes."
Thankfully, Sharon stepped in, wrapping up the small talk. We went through our prepared questions one by one.
"First off, we heard you received help from Phantom Thief Raven. Is that true?"
"Yes. It is."
"What kind of help, specifically?"
The nun carefully recounted her memory in detail—date, time, location, the situation that day. It matched perfectly with what I remembered. Hearing my actions from her perspective was strangely fascinating.
Sharon meticulously noted every detail in her notepad without missing a beat. As soon as the explanation ended, she fired off follow-ups relentlessly.
"You didn't see Raven in person?"
"No."
"So it was just the bag of money and the card left at the door."
"Yes. I never saw him."
What was this? It was supposed to be a simple interview, but it felt like an interrogation. Sharon even came off like a detective.
'No way...'
No. It was too circumstantial to conclude that. Labeling her Sherlock just because she grilled like a detective was a stretch.
"Do you still have the card from back then?"
"Yes. I kept it, just in case."
"Could we see it, if it's not too much trouble?"
"One moment."
Theresia stood, fetched the card, and returned.
"Here."
We examined the card she handed over closely. A simple raven drawing accompanied a stark sentence.
"Please use it for a good cause."
— Phantom Thief Raven
Hm. Nailed the design. Clean, yet perfectly capturing Raven's phantom thief essence. The small size limited how much I could write on notices, but that somehow made it cooler.
I nodded inwardly with satisfaction, and Sharon gave a firm nod before handing it back.
"Thank you for showing us."
"No trouble at all."
This was essentially the last question.
"It might be a sensitive one, but where did you use the money from Raven?"
For the first time, the nun—who'd answered fluidly until now—hesitated.
"...Truthfully, I agonized over it at first. I knew who Phantom Thief Raven was, and that the money wasn't obtained legitimately. I even thought about returning it to the original owner."
I was a little surprised. I hadn't expected that line of thinking. If it were me, I probably wouldn't have gone that far. I'd have wrestled with it briefly but ultimately accepted it gratefully from the thief. Was this the difference faith made? Wait, no—actually, I was stealing on direct request from a goddess.
"But I couldn't. One of the children I care for was suffering from illness. Curing the child required a lot of money. I stayed alone in the church late into the night, praying. Begging for help for the poor lamb."
Huh? Stayed late praying in the church?
Then, did Raven show up right after...?
"Was that when Raven came?"
"Exactly. An astonishing coincidence. Or maybe not a coincidence at all."
The nun pondered briefly before stating matter-of-factly.
"I believe it was an answer to my prayer."
"......"
'Goddess! You didn't orchestrate the whole thing, did you!?'
[What are you talking about? You're the one who suggested going to the church. Besides, the god that child worships isn't me.]
True enough. No way this rotten harem-bait goddess would. So it really was just coincidence? What an absurd, wondrous tale.
Sharon, who'd been listening quietly, spoke up.
"I think differently. It was just coincidence."