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The Half-Puny Priest Hopes To Retire chapter 57

57 – Happy Birthday

black and wide

Other than that, there was no other expression that came to mind.

black pillar. The inner scenery was extremely simple and clear.

Dark, dark, just dark.

It was hard to breathe, as if I had been in a hot sauna with a mask on.

As if his body had been submerged in a pit of muddy mud, just a single flick of his finger had to accompany unreasonable fatigue.

Suddenly, I felt a tingling sensation.

And that was also the moment when the vague premonition within me turned into certainty, and certainty into a disturbing question.

Also here.

”It resembles an audience room…”

How dare you compare a dungeon that is the source of evil with the sanctuary where the saintess is enshrined.

I was aware of the fact that I had made a disrespectful voice worthy of punishment.

There’s no one listening anyway. It’s okay to be honest with yourself for the moment that might be the last of your life.

I decided not to spare my words for today.

”Where is the hero… where is the hero…?”

An uneasy space where not even a handful of light is allowed, and there is only darkness everywhere you look.

Is there anything else as depressing as wandering around looking for someone in a place where it is unclear whether you are standing or lying down?

It made me think that it would be better to find a needle in the desert.

At least in the desert there is light to see ahead.

”If at least there was some light…”

It was then.

As if sympathizing with my intentions, the brilliant patterns engraved on my arms gathered together and gathered strength.

Soon, that holy birth gave birth to light in a world without the sun.

”Oh, oh…”

The brightness of the light was about the same as that of a flashlight.

As soon as I mention the necessity of fire, it emits light.

this pattern. Is there any voice recognition function?

The principles and laws were unknown, but at least I can be sure that this power is very favorable to me.

It was around the time when I felt a very small sense of relief sprouting in my heart that had only been creative.

”This····!”

The light that reached my feet resonated with something hidden in the dark floor.

The task of identifying the spot where the bloodstains were splattered by detectives using something like a fluorescent stick, which is often seen in detective stories.

Did you say the luminol reaction? anyway that

It was a similar situation.

As I pointed the light shining from my arm toward the floor, the traces of someone who had passed through there were revealed.

It was a footprint.

Pure white footprints, as if pure white paint had been dropped drop by drop with an eyedropper on a blackened sketchbook.

The needle of the desert that I was looking for all over the place.

A signpost pointing to the place where it was located was guiding me when I was lost, like a piece of bread in the story of Hansel and Gretel.

”That’s it… I lived thanks to you. saintess. I’ll stroke you a lot later…!”

like that.

Expressing sincere gratitude to the highest contributor who must have starved for breakfast by now, he followed the white traces embroidered in front of his eyes.

◈◈◈

A common phrase that can be found even if you pick and read one of the best sellers on display at a nearby bookstore.

Don’t chase the past. Don’t dwell on the past. Don’t get stuck in the past.

Look to the future.

Sometimes I think about it whenever I see such a phrase.

I thought that people who would walk around with a frown all day even if they stepped on a single dog poop on the street right now would write such words well.

My theory is that the past is not something you can ignore just because you want to ignore it. No, it was a lesson from experience.

”It’s clear that you’re here!”

The reason I stopped walking was no different.

It was because the figures of a familiar but unfamiliar brother and sister who appeared without warning in front of my eyes were entangling, enticing and enticing me.

hallucination. mirage. daydream.

It was a strange vision that I couldn’t classify with the concept I came up with hastily.

For instance, it was as if a grayish character from a black-and-white movie had been pulled out and forced into a colorful movie.

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Just like the moment when a suspicious box that once referred to itself as a god showed me the past of Priest La Novel as video data.

Surrounded by gray noise, the young hero and the big team, recreating their past with their own hands, stood in my way.

”sister! It was just as my sister said! He really came and treated us and left!”

”Oh no… No way····. That, it can’t be…”

Unlike the young Victim, who jumped and jumped in place as if Santa Claus had come and gone, excited and at a loss for what to do.

Like a doll whose thread had been cut, the young hero just sat there blankly, chewing on his whitish complaints.

”That can’t be! Look at me and my sister! You’re all right!”

”no····.”

”As my sister said! As a reward for waiting patiently and well! It must have come from the uncle himself!”

”No…”

”That’s right! Certainly, the uncle too…”

”I told you no—!!!”

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck.

Maybe it was because he was facing his sister’s murderous expression, which he had never seen before.

Victim, who hastily crouched down, looked at the warrior with a frightened face.

”mi. sorry····. sister····.”

”Hoo-wook… Whoa…”

like that.

It was around the time that the young hero was gradually adjusting his breathing, which was disturbed by emotions that he did not know whether it was anger or resentment.

Dim lighting was applied in the dimly lit room as the day slowly opened, and Vic Tim, who caught the red bloodstains on his sister’s body, bulged his eyes in horror.

”Sister… are you hurt… uh…?”

”Hut!”

The hero, who seemed to realize belatedly that his hands were covered in blood, trembled and rubbed them roughly against his clothes.

”profit! it! urg!”

”Noo, sister… It hurts a lot…?”

The condition of the hero’s body is not hers, only a little blood. The curse and the plague were completely healed, but it was in a clean state.

It was no big deal for the big team to say that.

”no. It won’t be. That person can’t be an uncle. There can be no uncle. Oh no. I mean no. really, no It shouldn’t be.”

It was like seeing a person hanging from a cliff.

The figure of the hero, who desperately and non-stop making pleas without even knowing what he was denying, was the epitome of a human struggling in pain.

It was then.

As the TV channels turn, the vision in front of me took a turn.

As if the flash went off on the camera, let’s gradually recover the blurred vision.

There, a warrior dressed in a neater outfit than before thrusting a knife into the orphanage director’s neck, urging him to do something.

”here! Here it is! Note, I’ll give it to you! You can’t give it away! here you go! It’s here! A document with his picture and name on it! Take it quickly!”

The hero who received the documents from him with trembling hands stared at the front for a while.

”Ahhh···. Ahhh···!”

Before long, the hero, who clearly showed his agitation enough to crumple the paper, raised the knife he was aiming at the director’s neck toward the ceiling.

”Hey!”

”Noona, noona!”

The head of the orphanage, frightened by the hero’s dizzying behavior, passed out in that state.

Her sword was not aimed at him in the first place.

”Why, why did you do that! why! why! why! why! why! why! why!”

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Kwajik. Kwajik. Kwajik.

How many times must I have heard the bloody sound of hard metal being slammed into the soft skin?

The warrior’s self-injury, which violently stabbed her hand as if it were an enemy, did not stop for a while despite the pleas of the big team who hugged her tightly around the waist.

”sister! Whoa, whoa! Ha, don’t! do not do that!”

tears and blood. anger and wailing. It was about time to fill the cramped room.

Cranky.

The blood-stained fruit was tumbled unsightly.

The amount of water droplets, seemingly too small to wash away the blood, quietly distorted from her eyes.

”Huh, huh… What should I do····. What should I do, Big Team…”

Right after that, something white fell from her pocket and landed on the floor, fluttering like a leaf.

On that small, old note, as if papers that had been torn to shreds were glued together hastily with glue.

[Happy Birthday]

There was a crooked writing called.

To her bold request for a present for her birthday.

Insincere writings that were enclosed without much thought, to kill time, or as part of entertainment.

I closed my eyes tightly to the image of the hero carefully picking up the nothing note as if handling a castle seaweed, carefully so as not to stain it with his own blood.

”Ah, mister… Mister····.”

Even though I was in a hurry, I eventually sat down on the spot.

This miserable scene unfolding in front of my eyes could not have been the past even if it was real.

can’t be real

eternally.

endlessly.

Because I had to repeat myself.

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