Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

Incidentally, Coppelia’s figure is a well-balanced, girlish one—not quite what you’d call a “dynamite body”—but in this case, we can generously call her comment a nice save.

“You’re… you’re willing to forgive me? Even though I raised my blade against you…?”

Dan’s eyes widened so much it looked like tears might spill from them at any moment.

“There’s nothing to forgive. Everyone makes mistakes. The only sin that is truly irreversible would be taking another person’s life. For anything else, there is always a chance to make amends. You’ve reflected on your actions and offered your apology—so your debt is repaid. I hold no grudge.”

“Ah, I see. So this is what the Church keeps preaching—‘virtue’ and ‘compassion.’ …Funny, though. The priests and shrine maidens are always quick to call working girls unclean and won’t lift a finger to heal them unless they’re paid an outrageous sum.”

“H-Hey, Martha!”
“How could you say that in front of the Shrine Maiden Princess?!”
“That’s crossing the line, sis!”

The other dancer girls hurried to scold Martha, who stood there with a cynical smile.

“Lady Clara, I wouldn’t be punished if I bludgeoned that b̲i̲t̲c̲h̲ to death, right?”

Coppelia, now turned around, made a rather alarming death threat—not that she cares about consequences when facing someone she’s deemed an enemy. But I stopped her with a firm word.

“Stop that. I’ll handle this. You go keep Angie company, please.”

Then I turned back to Martha.

“You’ve got it a little wrong. I don’t act based on the Church’s teachings, or on any lofty ideals of ‘virtue’ or ‘compassion.’ The Church holds up gods and saints as its model, but I am neither. I only deal with what I can see, what I can grasp. I’m not gifted or wise. All I can do is respond to each moment in a way that makes sense to me. It’s not a good deed, or anything noble—it’s just… my own self-satisfaction.”

At my candid response, Martha looked a bit deflated and scratched the side of her head sheepishly.

“…Yeah, well, that way of thinking makes you a saint all the same, if you ask me.”

That’s far too generous an assessment, really.

I couldn’t help but let out a wry smile. Martha, now unusually humble, bowed her head, and the other dancer girls fell to their knees in prayer, as though they’d just witnessed a miracle from the divine.

Feeling rather overwhelmed, I glanced behind me—only to see Coppelia puffing out her chest and declaring, “How dare you all keep your heads so high before Lady Clara!”

Please. Please stop. You’re just raising the bar of expectation for me unnecessarily.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things.”
“Oh, no, really, don’t worry about it.”
“—Still, this is shameless of me to ask now, but… Princess, would you be willing to treat my colleagues at the brothel? Or at the very least… take a look at them? Just check on their condition?”
“Oh? There are others who are ill?”

When I had scanned the area earlier with my Search art, I hadn’t noticed anything unusual…

In response to my simple question, Martha looked a little awkward and said, “…Ah—well, I mean, you know… this is a brothel, so… our line of work tends to come with, uh, certain kinds of illnesses, you know?”

“???”

Her previously lively tone shifted into something more hesitant, like she had something stuck between her teeth. The other dancer girls also began fidgeting uncomfortably, casting their eyes downward and shifting awkwardly where they stood.

Oh? Why is Cestlavie suddenly looking pale and backing away from them?

“I don’t quite understand the details, but once I’ve healed Dan’s cheek wound and settled that matter, I’ll begin the treatments.”
“You’re the best! I’ll go call everyone right now!”

With a cheer—her steps practically bouncing even more than when Angie was healed—Martha and the dancer girls scattered off in different directions to fetch their colleagues.

Meanwhile, Dan, who had been groveling low to the floor, sobbing quietly, seemed to have collected himself. He lifted his head and, with a solemn expression, began apologizing over and over again.

“Thank you. Truly, thank you, Shrine Maiden Princess. But… I am a sinner. That’s why I intend to keep this scar for the rest of my life, as a reminder of my wrongdoing.”

Even as he touched the scarred cheek with a towel, Dan’s resolve was unwavering. No matter what words I offered, it was clear I wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

“I understand. In that case, let’s start with treating the dancer girls.”

As I nodded, Dan stood and walked over to little Angie, who had grown bored with the adults’ conversation and was now lying on her side. He crouched beside her and said, “Daddy has to go to work now, but be good and listen to everyone, alright?” Then, taking the lead, he stepped out into the hallway to guide us.

As he passed by, he leaned in close and whispered in a voice only I could hear:
“Also… about the Maria Lou case—I think I might have a lead.”

♢♦♢♦♢

Thirty years later, from Jill’s perspective—present day, at the slave trader’s manor ‘The Gingerbread House’ in Central Capital Cilento.

Daniel Olivier, the master of this manor and one of the most prominent slave traders in the Central Capital, was reading through the results of a year-long investigation: a follow-up report on a certain pair of sisters.

The information, unearthed through the lavish expenditure of every connection and resource at his disposal, was enough to make even him—a man deeply entangled in the nation’s darkest underbelly—shudder with fear.

“…Unbelievable. That girl is not only an Aulanthia now, but a body double as well…?”

If he could, he would toss the report into the fireplace and flee to some place where no one could find him. But such a thing was unthinkable—not only because of his own pride, but because of the debt he owed that person.

“…I must warn them.”

Propping both elbows on his desk, Daniel muttered with a resolute expression.

Just then, a knock came at the office door. Upon granting permission to enter, a woman in a familiar black suit—somewhere in her mid to late thirties, with the air of a secretary—stepped inside.

“Pardon me. You called for me, Master Daniel?”
“Yes. It’s about a matter from the old days.”
“Old days? You mean…”
“The Holy Capital, Thera Maryth. Angie—do you still remember it?”

Daniel’s tone was casual and personal rather than formal, speaking as a father rather than an employer. Taken slightly off guard, Angie’s face softened, the business smile fading into something more tender as she answered.

“Yes, Father. I remember. My time there was mostly full of pain—I was always lying in bed, struggling to breathe. But still… I remember the view from the window, and the kind older sisters like Martha who were nice to me… And above all, I’ll never forget the Shrine Maiden Princess, who was as beautiful and gentle as a goddess, and who saved me.”

“Hm…”

Her dreamy tone told Daniel that she hadn’t realized—the girl who had visited here just a year ago, though a little younger at the time, was almost an exact match for the Shrine Princess she remembered.

He decided to say nothing further.

Even he had no solid proof. It was just a gut feeling. But he was convinced—that girl was the Shrine Maiden Princess herself.

“So, what about Thera Maryth, Father?”

“Hmm? Ah, well, there’s been talk of opening a branch of our business there. I figured it might be time for Marks to strike out on his own, don’t you think? Since you’re both familiar with the place, I thought you could go with him and help support the operation. I’ve made a discreet inquiry, and it seems Marks is quite eager.”

Daniel spoke naturally, mentioning the name of the man who was both his trusted right-hand and the husband of his only daughter, sitting before him.

“Thera Maryth… That’s the heartland of the Saintess Church. Things tend to get complicated over there…”

His daughter responded with a sour look, but Daniel simply gave a small shrug.

“Well, it’s not something that has to happen immediately, but sooner is better than later. Talk it over carefully with Marks and Lucia.”

As he said this, Daniel unconsciously let his fingers trace the old scar on his left cheek. Angie furrowed her brow slightly at the sight.

Whether he realized it or not, Daniel had a habit of touching that scar whenever he was about to make a weighty decision. Judging from what he’d said earlier, it seemed that the move to Thera Maryth wouldn’t just involve her and her husband—but also their daughter, Lucia. For him to so casually suggest parting ways with his beloved granddaughter, whom he doted on like she was the light of his life… This was highly unusual.

Still, if he wasn’t ready to talk about it, there was little point in prying.

With that decision made, Angie gave a polite bow and prepared to leave the room.

“Oh, and if you happen to meet the Shrine Maiden Princess in Thera Maryth, give her my regards.”

The offhand message, spoken just as she was leaving, left Angie deeply puzzled. The Shrine Princess had supposedly passed away years ago.

Was he telling her to visit her grave? Or was it some kind of code?

She turned to look back, but Daniel—the man once known as Dan—was already focused back on his documents, as if the matter was settled and no further discussion was necessary.

***

#Author’s note:#

Dan = Daniel. After Jill’s words and actions, he turned over a new leaf and became an honest slave trader.

You might be thinking, “Wait, he’s still a slave trader!?”—and yes, fair enough. But this was the result of him doing everything he could to treat orphans humanely within the constraints of the existing system.