The Impudent Escort's Lodging
"It's late. Do you have a place to stay?"
I asked Mikaela, who had now fully regained her composure.
She'd come as my bodyguard, so... maybe she'd booked a room downstairs?
"No. I don't."
"Pardon?"
But with shameless brazenness, she declared she had nowhere to stay and plopped down on the sofa opposite me.
"This is a suite that Calione Junior booked anyway, isn't it? Can't you lend me one of the spare rooms?"
"...Isn't that a bit too brazen?"
Not content with barging in uninvited, now she was asking for a place to crash. This wasn't just freeloading—it was a clear declaration of intent to stick right by my side for constant surveillance.
"...Do you know how much it costs to book this place for a night?"
"Brother, are you thinking of casting out this frail little lamb into the cold, dark night with nowhere to stay? Please, show some mercy."
Now she was appealing to my emotions. And using religious terms to boot—it was obvious she was dead set on spending the night here.
Well... there were plenty of spare rooms anyway, and she was a holy woman...
"There's an empty room next to the kitchen. Feel free to use that."
She finally stood, bowing her head politely.
"Thank you for your mercy, Brother."
"...Sure. So, what should I call you? Sister? Knight Commander?"
She pondered for a moment.
"I'm not technically a nun, but most people call me Sister, so that works. I'll head in and get some rest now. You had a long day too, Calione Junior."
Even wishing me a good night's sleep...
With that, she poured out everything she had to say and vanished into the room I'd assigned her.
"...What a whirlwind."
I'd only been in Italy for a day, and already I was tangled up with so many people. Today had been exhausting, no doubt about it.
Yeah, time to hit the sack...
"Ah, Eugene! Over here!"
The next day, as we stepped out of the hotel, a red pickup truck that looked well-worn from long use was waiting for us.
"Thanks for picking us up."
"You're the only one with a driver's license, after all. I'm still a newbie driver myself, so I'm not that great. Hop in quick... Wait, Eugene. Who's she?"
"Oh, this one?"
As expected, Elena was curious about the pure white creature trailing right behind me.
"My bodyguard from the Vatican."
"...Pardon? Her?"
"Don't let appearances fool you—she's pretty high up. Ah, mind if she rides along? I'll explain on the way."
"Uh, sure."
And so I took the front seat, while Mikaela grunted and climbed into the back.
"You've done me a great favor, Sister. I'm Mikaela from the Vatican."
"Ah, nice to meet you! I'm Elena. Sister."
"Elena. A fine name. So, Sister Elena, where are we headed now?"
"Um... to the artisan district."
"I see. As long as I'm in this vehicle, your safety is my responsibility. No need to worry."
Mikaela thumped her chest confidently as she spoke.
"Hear that? She's got our safety covered, so let's enjoy Italy to the fullest."
I rolled down the window and glanced at the scenery outside as we left Palermo behind. Lush green fields blanketing the surroundings, the deep blue Mediterranean in the distance, and the faint salty sea air mingling in the breeze.
It was the taste of true relaxation, something I hadn't felt in ages.
"Calione Junior. I have a question."
Mikaela's voice came from the back.
"What is it?"
"I'm curious how you came to know Sister Elena here."
...Starting the intel gathering already, huh?
"Just kinda happened."
"Pardon?"
"We just kinda ran into each other."
No fun handing over info that easily. Let's see the Vatican spy put in some effort.
"More importantly, Sister. Didn't you just say to trust only you?"
"I did, didn't I?"
"Then I'll trust only you this time too."
"...Pardon?"
And at that exact moment—
────BOOOOM!!
A massive explosion erupted beside the pickup, shaking the vehicle violently.
"Wh-what?!"
Elena gripped the wheel tight and checked the side mirror.
"Wh-who are those people?!"
A khaki jeep was roaring up behind us, engine screaming.
"Judging by the vehicle, probably a local gang... Doesn't the Medici family handle street cleaning?"
We'd left Medici territory, sure, but I figured they'd at least clear the perimeter.
-Kyaaahooo!
The gang members leaned out, aiming what looked like magic wands—no, an RPG at us.
"Hold on! If they blow up this truck, her mom'll kill me!"
"You heard her, Sister. Take care of it."
A living trophy system. Or rather, an active defense system in motion. Active Defense Sister?
"No choice, then. I'm your bodyguard, after all."
With a sigh, she rolled down the window and climbed into the truck bed. Her movements were fluid—clearly trained for this.
Perched in the bed of the speeding truck, she stared down the enemy in her pristine white robes.
-Kekekeke! Fire!!
A guttural yell from behind, and the RPG streaked toward us.
Alright, time to see what our Knight Commander can do.
"Seriously."
Her curt voice from the back. The warhead closing in.
And then—
Thwack—
With a casual swat like shooing a fly, she deflected it. The projectile veered off course, exploding harmlessly to the side.
The gangsters panicked at the impossible sight.
-That outfit! Vatican! It's the Vatican bastards!
-Vatican?! Tell the guys behind to hurry up!
For some reason, it only riled them up more.
"Why do they hate the Vatican so much?"
"Sicily's always had bad blood with mainland Italy. Probably something like that."
"Huh."
Though their reaction seemed hotter than expected.
Then—
"I didn't want to resort to bloodshed if possible... but no choice."
She crouched into a sprinting stance.
Wait, no way...
"Be right back."
She leaped from the truck, arms spread wide, and latched onto the jeep's front.
-A nun flew in!
-Shoot her! Blast her!
The gangsters fumbled for their guns, but they had one thing wrong.
"She said Knight Commander, right."
Not a nun— a knight.
Mikaela smashed her fist into the windshield, shattering it like sugar glass.
-Bulletproof glass with special treatment!?
"How's it going back there?"
"Uh, Sister's got the driver by the collar, yanking him out like a weed and tossing him."
The jeep swerved wildly without a driver. Balancing perfectly, she slipped through the hole into the cab.
-You damn nun!
-Lord, forgive my sins today—
-Verman!! I'll avenge youuuu— Ow! It hurts! Stop!
-Sending this sinful lamb to the Lord's side—
-Mercy! Please!
What followed was the merciless pummeling of the Knight Commander (physical).
"Elena, looks like it's wrapped up."
"Ah, got it."
Confirming the rear was clear, we turned around toward the stalled jeep.
Click.
The passenger door swung open. Mikaela stepped out lightly and walked toward us, heels clicking.
"She's the real deal."
"Yeah. I thought they'd send someone bigger for a bodyguard, but she's tough as nails..."
"No, look at her clothes."
"Her clothes?"
Despite the white nun's habit, there wasn't a speck of soot or blood.
"They sent a real character."
Fighting without getting messy is tough even for me. Guess Knight Commander isn't just a title.
"I'm back. Are you both alright?"
Her breathing was calm, as if she'd handled a minor chore.
"Yes, thanks to you, Sister. Thank you."
Elena bowed gratefully.
"Just doing my duty. From what those gangsters said, they called for backup. Best to clear out before more arrive."
She pulled out a notepad and jotted something down diligently.
Elena hit the gas again at her words.
"Sister, got a question."
She closed her notepad and looked at me.
"Yes? What is it, Calione Junior?"
"You threw all those punches, but not a drop of blood on you. Did you wash it off with holy power or something?"
I figured there was some special trick, so I asked.
It was just too weird—no blood after that beating.
"Ah, that? It's a simple trick, really. Infuse holy power with each punch—the pain stays, but no wounds form. No burst blood vessels means no blood."
"Oh."
That's the technique I used as the magical girl uncle.
Great minds, huh.
Elena cautiously asked her then.
"Isn't that basically a torture technique...? Sister, you're not like an inquisitor or anything, right?"
"I did serve as an inquisitor in the past, but not anymore."
"Ah, you did... Figures."
Makes sense they'd want her for that line of work.
Better not pick a fight carelessly.
The truck sped along the road until we reached the small village with the artisan district.
"Sicily really has so many beautiful spots."
"First time here too, Sister?"
"Yes. I've mostly stayed in the Vatican or only left for missions."
That explained her constant gawking around.
"It's my village, but I think it's pretty too. Oh, later I'll show you the church here."
"A cathedral? You're a true believer, Sister Elena. Let's do that."
She seemed to be warming up to Elena—not totally antisocial, then.
But for some reason, her gaze toward me still held a faint wariness.
I haven't done anything.
"Now we just need Grandpa to arrive, and we're all set. His new workshop—can't wait to see it."
"Better than yesterday, at least. Ah, there he is."
In the distance, Ludovico approached with a more excited expression than usual. Light steps, nodding head.
I wondered what he'd think of the revamped workshop.
Like slipping into new sleeves? His reaction was starting to intrigue me too.
While the battle raged in front, he provided zero assistance and just watched. A bit much. Also witnessed him smiling as if amused. Conclusion: Possibly more ruthless than initially thought. Proceed with caution.