Episode 16 — What She Sought to Protect



A rural area in northern Italy.
A modest sign reading "orphanage" hung quietly on the fence surrounding a small building near a church. It was that time of morning when children, having finished breakfast, were tearing around the yard, causing a racket as they dug for anthills with toy trowels.
In a bunker set up beneath the orphanage, the capsule slid open, and a woman with curly red hair spilling loose stepped out slowly.
"What time is it now..."
After stretching out her body, she opened the wardrobe standing against one wall, rummaged for her nun's habit, and changed into it, slapping her own cheeks a couple of times to snap fully awake.
"Let's get going."
Sister Federica. That was what the orphans here called her.
A hidden door beneath the desk in the director's office opened quietly, and she climbed up a ladder, carefully scanning her surroundings. Relieved at the sight of the children playing outside through the window, she steadied herself once more and stepped out of the director's office.
This was where she'd grown up — and the place she had to protect. Even with local mafia elements watching her with hostility over her betrayal, she had no intention of backing down.
As a child, unaware of anything, she'd been lured by the promise that it would help the orphanage, and led by the mafia's hand into a seminary to become a nun of the Vatican. Without knowing she'd been planted as a spy for the local mafia within the Vatican, she'd simply worked hard as instructed and successfully made it in. For a while after that, things had gone fine — but everything changed once she met her mentor recently.
"...No one out there?"
Making a careful patrol around the fence, she loosened her grip on the device in her hand. Through her mentor's teachings, she'd come to realize how ugly the work she'd been doing truly was, and had immediately confronted the mafia's contact, declaring she was cutting ties with them for good. In response, they'd cruelly threatened to make trouble for the very orphanage where she'd grown up.
With her mentor's help, she'd managed to arrange things so they couldn't touch the orphanage carelessly — but there was no telling when they might still come storming in with clubs in hand. Even the local public safety officers, apparently bribed by the mafia, kept giving her the irresponsible line that there was nothing they could do until an incident actually occurred.
If there was any small mercy in this, it was that, unlike the old-world mafias, civilian weapon possession was strictly prohibited in this era. Even mafia members were limited to fists, or at best, steel pipes. Of course, that alone was more than enough of a threat in a place with nothing but children and a handful of clergy.
"Sister Federica!"
A helper who volunteered here bowed her head in greeting.
"Ah. Good morning. Did the children eat well?"
"Of course. Thanks to your hard work, they've been eating plenty."
She'd been pouring most of her game earnings into running the orphanage. It had originally been funded by the local mafia, in exchange for planting her as a spy — but the moment she'd had her change of heart, they'd cut off the funding entirely. In the end, after searching for various solutions, she'd cashed in the funds and items she'd been saving in Worst Field — the game she'd originally started at the mafia's suggestion — as a contingency fund. Years of grinding under Father Masquerade had apparently paid off handsomely, and the orphanage's operations weren't in danger of collapsing anytime soon. Though, that was only guaranteed through the end of this year.
"Anyway, are you doing all right? I heard you'd also cut ties with the mafia within the game itself..."
"Ah. I quit that, yes."
"Huh? The game?"
"No. I left the clan the mafia was running. I'm on a freelance team now."
At her answer, the helper's expression grew a little downcast. She'd heard that the money earned working under a mafia clan, ugly as the work was, had been considerable — and it seemed there'd be no more room for that kind of income going forward.
Seeing the helper's expression, Federica gave her usual bright, breezy smile.
"Don't worry. The leader's a bit of a difficult personality, but the pay's actually pretty good."
"Really?"
"Yep. Though it's a little sad how similar the work actually is to what I did with the mafia guys..."
Not entirely the same, but ultimately, what she did in the game boiled down to one thing — charging enemy lines and unloading heavy machine guns like she was working off all the stress she'd built up in real life.
"Well, since it's a freelance team, we'll take any contract as long as the pay's right, so I might get to knock Father Masquerade around a bit myself sometime soon."
"That's... good to hear."
She carefully avoided mentioning the flip side — that she might just as easily end up forced to accept a contract from Masquerade instead. Though — the Professor's team, team or not, operated with each member holding independent authority, so she could probably find some excuse to decline if it came to that.
"Anyway, I'm running late for breakfast myself."
"Ah, right."
The helper led her to the dining hall. The orphanage's director happened to walk out just then, drying her hands, and greeted her cautiously.
"You look bright again today, Sister."
"Yes. I feel like I might finally be free of my past sins."
"That too is the Virgin's guidance. Keep walking forward with confidence."
"Thank you."
After finishing her meal, Federica watched the children absorbed in playing with dirt from a slight distance, keeping an eye on things. Since the Professor seemed to have something to attend to and likely wasn't logging in today, she decided to focus on orphanage business for the day.
After helping another sister hang out laundry, she went shopping in the afternoon. If any mafia lurked around the shopping district, she was, unfortunately, about the only one here with enough combat training — courtesy of the mafia's own training, no less — to actually respond.
Wanting to make the children pasta with meatballs for once, she was in the middle of picking out meat at the market when a familiar presence at her side made her hand freeze.
"........."
"Hey there."
She didn't even need to look. It was the officer who'd brought her in as a young mafia mole and raised her.
"........."
Relieved, at least, that he was someone she could reason with, she went back to picking out meat.
"Cold as ever, Feri."
"...Don't call me that."
"...Tch. No need to be that icy. We go way back..."
"...Shut up."
As she'd expected, he showed no sign of intending to actually harm her — he just stood there talking, apparently hoping to talk her around through conversation alone.
"You got me in plenty of trouble too, you know. Can't you cut me some slack, for old times' sake?"
"...No."
"Ngh..."
He scratched the back of his head, clearly troubled, and shifted his gaze to the meat she was picking through.
"This one's better."
"........."
Strictly speaking, he wasn't an evil man. He was simply someone who'd inherited his father's line of work. Even so, despite having a family of his own, he was also the man who'd lured Federica and several other orphans like her into the organization's affairs, all under orders.
"It's about the other kids, isn't it?"
At her pointed remark, his body flinched slightly. No doubt the other children the organization had raised were unsettled too, seeing her leave — Federica had held a position closest to a leader among them, after all.
"If you know that and you're still saying this, you've become quite the wicked woman yourself."
"...Do you really have the right to say that?"
"Ngh."
After a moment's hesitation, she reluctantly picked up the meat he'd pointed to, and only then finally met his eyes.
"...!"
His face was clearly bruised in several places — he'd apparently taken a beating from his superiors over the whole Federica situation. Not that it was enough to earn her forgiveness. She sighed and, without a word, pulled a raw egg from her shopping basket, gently rolling it over one of his bruises.
"Why don't you wash your hands of this too, and go do some farming or something? How long are you planning to live like this, on edge all the time?"
"........."
At her response, he shook his head slightly, taking the egg from her and rolling it over the bruise himself.
"You know I already..."
"........."
A faint pang of sympathy stirred in her, but it was ultimately his own doing, and she found no further will to comfort him. She shook her head and walked past him without another word.
Watching her go out of the corner of his eye, the man let tears fall from his bruised eyelids.
After handing off the groceries to the helper, she decided to pitch in with kitchen duties herself. Putting on an apron for the first time in a while felt strange, but she reminded herself it was for the children and steeled her resolve.
She finely chopped the meat and vegetables she'd bought, formed them into meatballs, and boiled up some pasta. When she brought the finished dish out to the children, they cheered with delight at the rare treat of real meat.
"Yaaay! Meat! Meat!"
"Hey! Julian's got one extra meatball!"
The accused child promptly popped one meatball into his mouth, insisted they were even now, and she had to work hard to calm down the two on the verge of fighting.
"Are you two really going to fight over this? The Virgin would be so sad, you know?"
"But—!"
"I'll ask the Virgin to make sure you get to eat something nice again soon, even if it's not often. No more fighting over food from now on, got it?"
The two calmed down at her gentle scolding. But another child raised his fork in protest.
"Liar! The Virgin never answered my prayer!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"...Mommy and Daddy still haven't come back."
"........."
She flinched, biting down on her lower lip to hold back the surge of emotion, then forced a smile and walked over to the boy, handing him one of the meatballs from her own plate.
"I'm sure your parents are just held up dealing with something important."
"Liar!"
"No, really. My own prayers worked out, didn't they?"
"........."
"The Virgin must be encouraging your parents to keep trying so hard that she can't bring herself to tell them to come back just yet."
Watching the boy finally settle down, quietly chewing on his meatball, she gritted her teeth. No matter what happened, she had to protect these children.
That night.
Having decided the children deserved something nice, Federica decided to put a bit more money into the orphanage's account. Sitting in her bedroom, she pulled up her device to check her balance—
"...Eek?!"
Eyes wide, blinking at an impossible number, she hiccupped and counted the zeroes with her finger, over and over, before finally muttering—
"...Guess that machine of a man does say thank you properly sometimes."
Her expression softened as she murmured that even a metal block like him could act like that occasionally. With this much, she could do far more than just meat — she could afford new clothes for all the children, with plenty to spare. She hadn't exactly joined this team by choice, but it had ended up being a good thing after all.
"I suppose this is the Virgin's grace at work too, in a way..."
Never fully at peace with mowing people down like a butcher, even if it was just a game, she held her device close and prayed earnestly before falling asleep that night.
—To be continued—