The Strange Adventures of Hearn the Believer

The senior student tapped the table lightly with her index finger. She seemed to have overcome her last bit of hesitation and, with a somewhat awkward attitude, decided to listen to the junior student's troubles first.

A string of wind chimes also hung outside the door of the courtyard on the second floor. When the senior student brought over tea and snacks earlier, the clear and ethereal sound lingered for a long time. And with a gentle breeze blowing, the lingering sound lasted for a long time.

So Marisa barely noticed whether the door had opened again during their conversation. Only when she came to her senses did she notice a small figure gracefully taking a seat in an empty spot on one side of the tea table.

It was a little girl with rainbow-colored hair, who looked to be about eight or nine years old. She seemed to have just woken up and was wearing a men's shirt that was obviously not the right size for her.

The senior student thoughtfully prepared a tea set for the young girl and brewed her flower tea. After finishing everything, she returned to her seat and gestured for Marisa to continue her story.

However, in Marisa's view, the adorable little girl didn't seem to appreciate her senior's thoughtfulness. She yawned sleepily, then reached out as if no one was around, moved the three-tiered tower of snacks in front of her, took the largest piece from the top, and then, seemingly unconcerned about Marisa being an outsider, crossed her smooth, flawless legs, which were exposed under her shirt, and placed them on the edge of the table. Even the chair was suspended in an unbelievable balance... slightly above the ground, before she made a move to eat.

"..."

Even someone as oblivious as Marisa could sense the discordant atmosphere brewing in the air, like undercurrents beneath a calm sea, unseen by ordinary people. Hence, she was momentarily speechless, unsure of where to begin.

In Marisa's eyes, the seemingly ordinary senior student remained silent for about three seconds before silently raising her slender right hand, her fingers slightly curled. Then, Marisa barely saw her make any movement, or rather, she didn't see the lovable girl who had been eating with her legs crossed. The girl, with tears in her eyes, covered her forehead and sat back down in her chair, her face full of disbelief, as if something unexpected had just happened. This time, however, she sat very steadily, ate politely and quietly, and even the chair remained quiet.

"Excuse me, where were we?" The senior maintained the same posture as when they were talking, except that her right hand, which had been slightly raised, was now retracted, but Marisa only dared to pretend she didn't see it.

When asked the real question, Marisa subconsciously took a deep breath and then revealed the secret that had been troubling her to the other person.

"Please save me, Charlotte-senpai, I think I'm probably being chased."

……

Chapter 4 LambsDay (2nd)

As with most stories, Miss Marisa's troubles still stemmed from unexpected accidents.

Marisa, who is leaving her youthful high school days behind and traveling far from home for the first time in her life, recently found a bunch of things that didn't belong to her while taking stock of her mountain of luggage. She accidentally found them in a package that she hadn't had time to open.

Miss Marisa is a girl who is secretly quite untidy, but fortunately she has a good memory. Based on her experience and memories from the past ten years, she quickly determined that these old books came from her mother who travels all over the world.

Yes, in her high school years, Miss Marisa was also a marginal girl who lived alone in a large house with both parents busy, and she always sat in the second-to-last row by the window in the classroom.

Lonely people are always good at observing and reading. She quickly realized that these rather old books came from her mother's study, and must have been packed by mistake when she was packing her luggage before leaving.

Out of a slight longing for her family and hometown, Miss Marisa took some time each night to study these "mother's books".

Then I gained a bunch of seemingly useless trivia.

With a mother who works in archaeology, a child will inevitably learn all sorts of useless trivia.

Marisa naturally couldn't understand these books. Although she spoke fluent broken English and had Western ancestry, it didn't mean she would necessarily understand the language of those long-extinct, lost civilizations.

Through subsequent comparison, Marisa determined that the books were written in Semitic script, and that what she actually deciphered was a manuscript inserted in one of the books.

The manuscript meticulously records various ancient legends that have long been lost to the tides of the Fifth Industrial Revolution. These are not some worthy-to-be-promoted ancient cultures; on the contrary, the manuscript is mostly about a lost people from Central Asia and their ritual records of a series of chilling human sacrifices in the past...

Marisa insists that she threw the books into the fire and burned them because the ambiguous and contradictory texts made her feel uneasy being alone at home.

This happened about two weeks ago, and what happened next was a matter for the telecom operators.

The initial change was that the process of logging into the electronic sea world each day became increasingly lengthy.

As a mainstream product in an era where user experience is paramount, a personal terminal connected to the electronic sea should undoubtedly not have such a basic flaw. Marisa tried most of the methods, such as appealing to the local operator for adjustment, or simply buying a new personal terminal, but all to no avail.

The wait in the darkness grew longer and longer. Finally, by the time I logged in last time, the user experience that should have been instantaneous and seamless had plummeted into the Mariana Trench.

Marisa truly felt like she was sliding into a trench. The long, unresponsive darkness was so disorienting and terrifying. In the extreme silence, she began to vaguely sense that something else was approaching her step by step.

"Honestly, I don't dare to log in to the electronic sea anymore. The last time, I even felt countless hands pulling me down, if I hadn't finally managed to log in."

Marisa, with a mournful face, slumped her head onto the table, causing the tea in the celadon cup to ripple.

"On the Pan-European University community forum, there are also urban legends about the disappearance of users of the electronic sea. Some people say that it is actually criminal gangs who use sophisticated hacking techniques to hack into the personal terminals of those people and obtain their real addresses. By creating a long period of unresponsiveness, they put the victims' minds in a dilemma, and then easily break into their residences to commit crimes. People like me who live alone are easy targets."

Marisa looked up and analyzed further.

"A convincing judgment, why not call the police?"

"Justice may never be absent, but it can sometimes be late, and I dare not gamble on it."

"So, why did you think of coming to find me?"

"Because of what happened last time, and because I heard from senior Makishima that you are also a master of virtual intrusion... well, a seasoned enthusiast."

"Since you know Makishima, why not ask him to stay at your house day and night, and then wait for him to crush the criminal gang that comes to your door? Don't worry, that muscle baboon has no interest in any females other than his sister."

"Actually, I already asked Makishima-senpai. He's surprisingly a great guy. Even though he looks so tall and intimidating, he agreed without hesitation after just a little bit of sweet talk. But when he heard that I was coming to ask you for help, he ran off like a shot..."

Marisa's voice trailed off.

"I bet he said something really nice when he ran away."

Charlotte listened to Miss Marisa's lament while idly stirring her tea. As always, she added some strange things to her drink, stemming from a sudden inspiration and a long-standing habit.

"No, no, absolutely not." This was the umpteenth time Marisa had said something she didn't mean today. When that gorilla senior ran away, he naturally uttered a string of elegant and eloquent words, but the dangerous glint in the slightly narrowed eyes of the senior in front of her was absolutely genuine.

Marisa secretly suspected more than once that the beautiful senior in front of her had a potential tendency towards split personality. Most of the time, she was shrouded in an inherent aura called "ordinariness," much like Cinderella, who silently cleaned the house in the corner of a big house and witnessed the coldness and indifference of the world. It was as if no one in the world would give her a second glance, even though she actually possessed a body blessed by heaven—in this era of widespread body replacement, this was undoubtedly the most precious thing.

That senior was a little introverted, quiet and reserved, loved reading and was kind-hearted. She was very easy to talk to. Marisa first met that senior. She remembered that it was snowing lightly that day. Marisa, who had gotten into trouble, accidentally wandered into that flower shop and met her reading there. That day, the senior was wearing a Soviet-style winter school uniform, wrapped in a black and white checkered knitted scarf, wearing navy blue framed glasses, and holding a rare physical paperback. There was also a cup of hot cocoa on the counter, with wisps of smoke rising. She formally greeted Marisa, who seemed to be a customer of the flower shop, and also dealt with the "minor trouble" that followed her. It is worth mentioning that until everything was settled, the senior, who was not good with words, failed to sell Marisa a single bouquet of flowers.

Marisa even had this illusion when she first met Marisa, as if she were a little girl younger than herself.

But when they bumped into each other at the academy for the second time, Charlotte became a bit scary. She seemed like a completely different person, no longer having any connection with the fairy tale "Cinderella," but instead resembling... well, Charlotte was quite energetic today too.

At least, if Marisa included the little girl sitting in her chair, nibbling on her snack with tears in her eyes, in her frame of reference, Marisa once again solidified the image of Charlotte in this state in her mind.

In short, she's just like a stepmother from a fairy tale.

“Miss Marisa, I understand your situation. The matter of payment has also been settled. Now, please go back to your room to freshen up and find a guest room to prepare for logging into the electronic sea.”

"Okay, I fully understand."

Miss Marisa, who had already sensed the oppressive atmosphere brewing in the tea party, left as if granted a pardon. After thanking everyone, she disappeared behind the garden gate as if fleeing.

The relaxing courtyard was soon left with only the two owners.

A moment later, a pouty, childish female voice called out.

“One day, I will pull up all the violets in this yard and plant my sister’s favorite bird of paradise... He will definitely not object.”

“Really? Then you are quite a cruel girl, Princess Jibril. Can you imagine how painful it is to have your wounds reopened every morning? Memories are beautiful, but one must always look forward. Now, come out with me and get some exercise. You have been withdrawn for almost three months. I remember that girl had a nice book called ‘Reward’ that I think Mr. Hern would like.”

"Shut up, Pandora!"

……

Chapter 5 Lambsday (3rd)

"I reject."

Why should I waste my precious time on ants?

"What's more, it's to be walking alongside such a despicable and vile being as you, the hateful daughter of Hephaestus."

"Occupying a position that doesn't belong to you, trampling on the happiness of others, and extinguishing the only hope—do you know how many people have suffered misfortune because of your ignorance, recklessness, overstepping, selfishness, and greed?"

"You don't deserve to bask in the sunlight and enjoy your life."

Everything you have was taken from others.

"You unworthy courtier, ambitious schemer, robber, lowly commoner, whore, if you had even a shred of shame, you should hang yourself, immediately, right now! Instead of sitting here so brazenly and shamelessly, you only deserve to die in that freezing ditch!"

……

In March, the sky over Zurich had just begun to clear up after the rain, but now it has turned gloomy again.

A gentle breeze occasionally wafts through the damp, chilly air, carrying with it the same fragrance of flowers, equally imbued with the cold—the scent of cut flowers perfect for winter and spring, the violets blooming throughout the garden.

For the next three months, the courtyard was filled with these deep blue and cool flowers as promised.

After a slight ripple, the courtyard, where time seemed to stand still, returned to a silent stillness, with only the occasional sound of a teaspoon stirring and the porcelain teaware lightly clinking.

The daughter of Hephaestus no longer needs to wear that old gray cloak, yet, compared to the rainbow-haired Lady Sariel on the other side, whose hair is outlined and adorned with bright and vibrant warm colors, she still habitually wraps herself in a serene cool color. Today, she wears a jet-black dress, embellished with deep purple ribbons and scattered metal ornaments, making her look exactly like those wicked and venomous queens in fairy tales.

Sitting opposite her, Miss Sariel, who seemed to have weathered many storms and tasted the bitterness of the world, slumped in her chair in utter dejection after a three-month-long cathartic speech, staring at her with unwavering resentment, disgust, and wariness. In essence, she was a genuine, unadulterated, and utterly pure princess.

This long, anxious, and murky period of silence has finally come to an end.

In Miss Sariel's eyes, the detestable daughter of Hephaestus slowly put down her celadon teacup after taking a sip of tea. This caused her body to tense up subconsciously. Dozens of spells involving dimensional transfer were secretly prepared, waiting to be activated either actively or passively. The most crucial thing was to ensure that her soul could escape intact for the confrontation afterward. For this, she was willing to give up her natural body.

If even a tiny fragment of one's soul were torn apart and fell into that woman's hands, everything would be over.

"Your Highness Jibril Sariel".

"!"

"If this is the conclusion you came to after putting aside your dignity and isolating yourself like a real little girl for three months, then I can only feel sorry for you."

"Tsk, is there any other possibility? Do you still harbor any naive fantasies in your rotten brain? How laughable!"

"I thought you had found a way to reconcile..."

"reconciliation!?"

Miss Sariel's voice suddenly rose and became sharp, as if she had heard an absurd and ridiculous word. Without warning, she interrupted the other person and then mocked them sarcastically.

"Excuse me, but I need to revise my assessment of you from ten seconds ago. Just how shameless do you have to be to have the absurd illusion that I would reconcile with you? Your brain is not only rotten, but I think it's also full of fat maggots wriggling and crawling inside!"

“However, considering only your peers, the prince of Beelzebub is far superior to you in terms of upbringing, at least in terms of family education, Your Highness Sariel.”

The daughter of Hephaestus spoke concisely and to the point.

"You don't really think that just because I've been pretending to be a kid for three months, you can just stand in the position of an elder and lecture me, do you?"

The young angel retorted.

"I'm just stating the facts."

"Shameless, arrogant! How dare you, a lowly son of the earth, speak so disrespectfully and presumptuously about the direct descendants of the seven greatest rulers of hell?"

"Then, Your Highness Jibril, of noble birth, the sole heir to Gabriel's throne, the second-generation Child of Fire who has embraced eternity since birth, such a great creation, such a noble and illustrious one, at this moment, before a lowly Child of Earth like myself, who is only fit to feast on rotten earth, drink filthy water, and die in the gutter, do you dare to do anything superfluous other than howl and bark like a filthy wild dog drenched in a downpour?"

The daughter of Hephaestus calmly stated words that were not so bland.

"you……"

"Or are you confident enough in the forty-one dimensional transfer spell models you've secretly constructed?"

"..."

A slight upward tilt, resembling mockery, or perhaps a similar color, was the first emotional tendency revealed by the daughter of Hephaestus during this unpleasant tea party. She rose from her seat and, without hesitation or perhaps with a sense of psychological distance, approached Jibril, bowing slightly and extending her hands to the young angel.

Throughout, with each step she took and each gesture she made, the young angel did nothing more than shrink back in her seat with increasing fear. Even the dimensional spells that had been secretly constructed and were just one step away from being triggered failed to press any of the trigger points. In the end, she even succumbed to the fear imprinted in her memory, closed her eyes, and uncontrollably let out a mournful cry like that of a young beast.

"babble……"

Something around the neck was untied.

Jibril opened her eyes shakily, her amber pupils reflecting the image of the detestable daughter of Hephaestus. She was adjusting the buttons on the young angel's shirt, which was a men's shirt that didn't belong to her and was rather too big. Buttons are like that; once one is buttoned wrong, it can only go wrong one after another until the very end.

Jibril stiffened her small body, not daring to make a move, as she listened to the hateful woman whispering in this extremely intimate moment.

"I once thought that a Fire Child like you, who possesses almost infinite time, would view things with a more rational and mature mindset. But now it seems that your excessively long lifespan has also prolonged your growth period."

“From the moment I opened my eyes at the age of five, I have been struggling to survive in the slums of Is. Ah, in your eyes, the lowly children of the earth are no different from ants, so that frozen cave can indeed be considered a sewer.”

"How old are you this year? Let me think. Oh, Mr. Hearn mentioned it to me. Never mind, to save your face, let's not mention it. Anyway, your mind is not equivalent to the long years you've lived, not even about equal."

“You are naive, and you are shameless, Jibril Sariel.”

"6473 times, that's the number of times you've killed me."

"Just how naive, ignorant, and fearless must one be to shamelessly conceive the absurd idea that I would unilaterally hope to reconcile with you?"

“I am just an ordinary mortal, not so magnanimous. Of course, that’s psychological. Physically, I would rather have it, since Mr. Hern would be happier that way. So, Pandora Reinhardt has never had the slightest thought of reconciling with Jibril Sariel. Please stop being presumptuous.”

"Do you remember what I said last time, on the 6473rd time?"

"I've reached your limit, and next time, I'll kill you with my own hands."

"Your memory doesn't lie, which is why you're trembling and letting me do whatever I want now. I let you go back then only because I had more important things to do. It would have been too foolish and reckless to waste time on someone like you who was going to be cannon fodder in my way."

"The so-called 'reconciliation' is a reconciliation between you and yourself, not with me."

"Just as you see me as an enemy who took away your sister's only chance to come back from the dead, in my eyes, aren't you also an irreconcilable blood feud? Oh, sorry, that was before. You don't even qualify to be my enemy now."

"I don't need your reconciliation, nor do I care whether you can reconcile with yourself. My demands on you are actually very low, almost non-existent—just that you attribute everything you've done to the mental imprint left from your service in the Holy Blood Angels, claiming it was out of necessity, an act of God, that everything you did had nothing to do with you, that you are innocent… That's all. I won't pursue the crimes committed by a mindless puppet, even if I was partly the victim of those crimes. Besides, if you can maintain this youthful and harmless appearance, I will even provide you with protection, ensuring you can live a carefree life until you officially inherit those two seats."

"How about that? You get everything you want with almost no price to pay. Isn't that a great deal? Unlike Mr. Hearn, I'm much more approachable right now."

"Think it over carefully. You have plenty of time to waste now, don't you, Miss Jibril?"

The Cinderella of the past fastened the last button for the little princess of today, carefully adjusted the collar, smoothed out the creases, and then turned and left.

“I don’t expect you to wash the dishes, Jibril, but be grateful for the food. If I come back and find you’ve wasted any tea or snacks, you’re on your own.”