Miss Assassin is heavily addicted

Chapter 8. The priest was right.

—Second floor of the monastery, office—

He Ye followed Dean Matthews all the way to the lavishly decorated office, which contained a sandalwood desk, ceramic vases, and a mountain of documents.

Nicole stayed by her side the whole time, completely focused.

It wasn't until Dean Matthews gestured that no outsiders should be in the room that she finally realized she hadn't followed him in. Instead, she stayed outside, idly poking at the rose window, its patterns puzzling her.

“Well then, you can speak now, Leon.”

Dean Matthews sat opposite him and addressed him affectionately.

He Ye took it as a sign of friendliness and didn't pay much attention to it. After carefully considering his words, he patiently said:

"Here's the thing, I want the orphanage to take in a child, not for too long, just enough for her to learn a skill."

"You mean the girl who's outside?" Matthews stroked his white beard.

"Yes, I know she's past the age for staying in an orphanage, but she's an orphan, an orphan through and through."

At this point, He Ye feigned sadness, covering his face with his hands, his voice filled with sorrow:
“Her parents died in the war. She was uneducated and mentally challenged, so she had to live on the streets for a while. When I saw her, she was even eating bread picked from the sewers…”

Although I didn't see it with my own eyes, I felt that it was something she was capable of doing—He Ye, who covered her cheeks but couldn't really cry, spoke words full of sincerity.

"So what is your relationship with her?" Dean Matthews sighed.

"It was a chance encounter." He Ye looked up.

Matthews froze, his gaze towards He Ye becoming even more benevolent, as if tears were welling up in his eyes, and he slowly said:

"You have such a kind heart."

"You flatter me, you flatter me," He Ye said seriously. "So, for this part, how much do you think would be enough to get it done?"

He Ye knew that his original wallet wasn't enough, but fortunately he had an expensive watch on his wrist, a birthday gift from Xi Wu, which should be worth tens of thousands of yuan.

"No, no, Leon, how can such a pure heart be measured by money?"

Dean Matthews said with emotion, stood up and walked to He Ye, warmly shaking his hands, which caught He Ye off guard.

"So what you mean is...?"

He Ye was at a loss for what to do.

“Helping those who deserve our pity is the responsibility of the orphanage. It doesn’t require any extra funding. Your kindness is the most precious thing,” Matthews said sincerely. “I will let that child become a novice nun here to study theology and astronomy, which will enable her to work in the church in the future.”

After saying that, Matthews stroked He Ye's hand with his fingers, as if to comfort him for his hard journey.

This moved He Ye, who thought to herself that the director of the welfare home was truly a person with a noble soul.

“You are even kinder than I am,” He Ye said.

"No, no," Matthews shook his head dejectedly.

A brief silence fell between the two, as if they were like-minded partners gazing at each other. However, during this time, Matthews did not loosen his grip on her hand and even subtly stroked the back of her hand, which made He Ye's expression a little strange.

Fortunately, the next moment—

"Then, would you mind showing me your heart set on the path?"

Matthews finally let go, walked to the side door of the office, and stood there solemnly.

…A heart yearning for the Way?
He Ye was completely bewildered.

Then he pushed open the side door, revealing the bedroom inside.

The priest's statue was embedded in the wall, and the whole room resembled a cramped prayer room, but it was much larger. Four red candles were lit in the four directions, and in the middle was a soft, Simmons-style bed. The air was filled with a relaxing fragrance.

He Ye sensed that something was wrong.

But he still couldn't be sure at this point, so he could only bite the bullet and go in, licking his lips as he felt them dry.

Listen to Dean Matthews introduce this special prayer room. He says that truly kind people need to be observed by the priest. If the priest recognizes your kindness, a place in the welfare home will naturally come your way.

"So pray to God."

Matthews, holding a black book in his hand, spoke as if he had changed his clothes at some point.

Alright, alright, it's come to this... He Ye had no choice but to continue doing as instructed. After all, Dean Matthews seemed so kind and approachable; he was just putting on an act of praying.

He told himself to close his eyes.

He said he would shake hands and pray.

He said, "Don't open your eyes."

Soft rustling sounds.

...?
For some reason, He Ye felt a sense of crisis, and a bead of cold sweat seeped from his forehead, but he still decided to believe, even though he didn't know what he should believe!

“Um, Dean Matthews…” He Ye called out his name in a trembling voice, trying to gain some sense of security.

"Shh-"

But I heard hissing in my ears.

“I am a priest,” he said.

Heye:?
Finally, an overwhelming sense of absurdity welled up inside him, and He Ye's arms trembled uncontrollably. He felt that it must be just as he had imagined.

He should also understand that there is no such thing as a free lunch in this world; things that are labeled as free often come with an unimaginable price tag.

"hey-hey."

My butt got touched. Damn it, no way!

He Ye opened his eyes in terror and stumbled backward! He saw Matthews grinning slyly, rubbing his hands together like a fly as he approached. Startled, He Ye clenched his fist and swung it forward, unleashing a powerful punch as if about to strike!

"Go away!!!"

Boom!
A gold tooth flew through the air.

"Awoooooo!"

……

……

ten minutes later.

"yue..."

"Ugh ugh ugh ugh..."

"Fuck... I... fuck... ah..."

The entrance to the alley of Narcissus Street.

An English gentleman was leaning against the wall, retching. He looked as painful as someone with a hangover, and even wiping his mouth was a luxury; all that remained was nausea.

Yes, he is He Ye.

They had just fled from the St. Maas Welfare Home ten minutes ago.

The events that occurred in the prayer room were too painful to recall. Dean Matthews, who had been punched and had several teeth knocked out, rolled on the ground and wailed. The nuns who came upon hearing the commotion exclaimed in surprise again, but more than anything, they expressed sympathy for He Ye.

Because his eyes were filled with terror.

She was just one centimeter away from losing her first kiss.

You beast! You hypocrite, how could you do this? Countless curses surged within He Ye's heart, wanting to vent, wanting to kick him hard!
But when I think about the scene I saw when I opened my eyes—

"yue... vomit vomit vomit..."

He leaned against the wall, feeling nauseous again; even a drunkard who downed two bottles of mojitos didn't vomit this badly.

"Are you alright, sir..." Nicole asked worriedly.

"I...it's okay..."

He Ye was only disgusted, without any actual harm. As someone with a normal sexual orientation, he couldn't understand this abstract other world, and he also felt sorry for those who had suffered the same fate.

Despite punching that damned old man, sending him sprawling on the ground, He Ye received no punishment whatsoever. The nuns and worshippers watching even secretly clapped and cheered.

After all, if things escalated, it would only damage the reputation of their St. Mars Welfare Home. The nun who arrived simply told He Ye to leave, and he left cursing and swearing, leaving their own people to handle the aftermath and compromise.

Before leaving, He Ye, still angry, couldn't help but curse:

"How can the director of an orphanage like men?"

Upon hearing this, the nun sweeping fallen leaves at the courtyard gate touched her cheek and said sentimentally:
"It's better than a dean who lusts after children, ladies, and widows."

Thinking about this, He Ye felt nauseous again.

"yue..."

He felt like he had vomited everything out of his stomach, leaving only water, which dripped down his lips and felt sticky and uncomfortable.

Passersby pinched their noses and looked disgusted. No matter how gentlemanly He Ye looked, he was completely lost and dejected at this moment.

Nicole was very worried and gently patted He Ye's back. She was used to the sour smell of food digestion from the slums and didn't find it disgusting.

"Are you alright, sir?" Nicole patted his back.

Do you have... a handkerchief?

He Ye struggled to lift his head, his face pale.

"There are some."

Nicole was glad he needed her help, so she quickly rummaged through her handkerchief and instinctively handed it to He Ye.

And then the next second.

The handkerchief used to wipe her mouth already had some unseen powder residue left on it. Before He Ye even realized something was wrong, her limbs had already gone weak.

Huh?

Why does it feel like I've inhaled something?
He Ye thought it was because he had vomited too much and was too weak. Just as he was about to find a place to sit down, he found that his knees had already fallen to the ground.

...?
He Ye was bewildered, but his consciousness was rapidly fading. He heard someone's panicked voice, but he could hardly hear it anymore. He only felt that the floor was very cold and his eyelids were very heavy.

Good night, world.

"Boom."

Nicole, the culprit, opened her mouth wide and innocently covered her mouth with her hands. She looked at the white handkerchief that had fallen to the ground, then at the sleeping Mr. Leon, and was at a loss for what to do.

"I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I forgot, my handkerchief was stained with medicine powder..."

Nicole knelt down, trembling, shaking He Ye's chest as if she were mourning.
"Hey Mr. Leon, are you alright? Wake up! I really didn't mean to let you pass out! You'll catch a cold sleeping here! Hey, Grandpa Leon!"

"Whoosh! ~~"

(End of this chapter)