The Half-Puny Priest Hopes To Retire

29 – escape

Everyone has heard of that reputation, but there must be at least one masterpiece movie that has not been seen in real life.

For me, ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ was like that.

All you know is that the main character, imprisoned in prison for a rough false accusation, escapes from prison after all sorts of hardships. I don’t know the development of the play or the conflict between the characters, and I’m not really curious about it.

However, I remember the final moments of the play clearly.

It was quite impressive to see the main character, who managed to escape prison with difficulty and win freedom in the end, shouting hurrah high into the sky while catching the pouring rain with his body.

If I had a similar experience in the distant future, wouldn’t I be like that too? I even thought about it inadvertently.

But when I actually experienced it, I was just dumbfounded.

The moment I was first imprisoned in the audience room, when I saw the saintess rushing at me with ominous eyes glinting, I thought that I should be locked up here for at least a day.

Suddenly, without any context whatsoever, the sudden change in attitude of the saintess who said that she would let me go outside so obediently was that the embarrassment outweighed the joy of stealing.

Is it puberty?

As a saintess whose mental age has recently matured, she thought that this might be enough, but she could not easily swallow the steamy thorn in her throat.

The saintess’ act of opening the locked door from the outside without even touching it was not surprising anymore.

It was just that I, who had become accustomed to the saintess’s transcendent eccentricities, felt a little strange to myself.

”Lady. Am I really leaving?”

It wasn’t once or twice that I actually went there and saw blood, so I reconfirmed my intentions quite a few times.

The saintess’ attitude, as if she wanted to send me out of the audience room, boasted unprecedented toughness.

From that incessant way of pushing my back hard with those slender hands that didn’t seem to be able to push anything out, I didn’t show it on the outside, but I was even slightly hurt.

”Eh~!”

”Oh, okay! I’ll go! You can go!”

Would parents feel like this when they face their child’s first rebellion?

Chewing on those reproachful thoughts, I entrusted myself to the weak current pushing my back.

◈◈◈

The taste of the mundane world, which I tasted in the sign language class, did not bring me much inspiration.

In the first place, it wasn’t that I had been confined for long enough to come to a new realization, and the scenery I saw right after I got out of the room was an insignificant scenery, only slightly different in brightness from when I entered.

It’s just, it’s already night. The night air is so cold. That was all I felt.

By the time I moved toward my room with a turbulent beat, chewing on such a modest feeling of escaping.

I met an unexpected person at the corner of the hallway.

No, in this case, it might be more appropriate to say that I found it rather than met it.

”Sister?”

At first I thought I was wrong.

late night. Just like the case of a passer-by who mistook a black plastic bag scattered on the street for a cat.

It took some time before I realized that the black object assimilated into the wall as I crouched down in the corner of the hallway was an acquaintance of mine.

The one who imprisoned me in the audience room, and the one who gave me an indescribable sense of betrayal at an age where I was easily hurt.

If this were a movie, even if she couldn’t do it, she would have been a person who corresponds to the mid-boss level.

It wasn’t like the protagonists of good and evil movies that I’ve seen many times in my previous life, that my emotions just flared up, or that my anger welled up in the battle.

That would be too.

The miserable figure of the nun, lying on the floor helplessly asleep with her body leaning against the wall, seemed too precarious to receive such intense emotions.

For example, a lantern before the wind. A cracked glass. It was to the point where I thought that it would break if touched, a word that was born to modify the current nun.

Did you drink alcohol?

The unfortunate incident of young priests and nuns secretly stealing wine stored in the cellar and drinking it, getting drunk and falling asleep, is a so-called annual event that any monastery of any size can never avoid.

It was unlikely that the nun, who was ascetic in everything, would commit such an aberration, and since she did not smell of alcohol in the first place, such suspicions soon dissipated.

”Hey Sister… If you sleep in a place like this, your mouth will go back…”

”Umm…”

I tried to awaken my consciousness by lightly shaking my shoulders, but it didn’t look very good.

It was to the point where I thought that even if I carried on like this, let alone ask what was going on, I would not know.

I wonder if he is walking around like this even outside. She was aware of the unlucky distance, but as a clergyman, it was inevitable that she would worry about the level of her sense of crisis.

”No, how did this hand do that again…? I really want…”

In the midst of this, he was even injured somewhere else.

I remember hearing somewhere that the small mistakes that normally meticulous people sometimes make act as a charm point.

If I were to talk about it from the point of view of being pointed out by that person on a daily basis, I would feel indescribable injustice. I didn’t find it particularly attractive.

I carefully placed the nun’s pure white hand on top of mine and examined its condition.

Read at NovelNext.com

Judging from the amount of blood on the affected area and its depth, it seemed that it had been cut by sharp objects such as protruding nails and pieces of wood.

‘Unless it is severe enough to be pierced in one place, never use it on yourself or others.’

At that very moment, a stinging phrase I had heard from her one day flashed through my mind.

It is hard to believe that he is the same person as the cold-hearted person who seemed to sprout thorns in every word he said at the time.

Looking at the present nun, who is so lax and can be called full of gaps, is not inferior.

I could clearly feel the rebellious spirit rising from the corner of my thoughts, like acrid smoke.

It’s okay if you don’t listen.

Taking out the rosary from her chest and holding it in her hand, she quietly began to recite a prayer so as not to wake her up.

It wasn’t an action that stemmed from noble feelings such as love and mercy, but rather it was more like a repulsive feeling that made me want to do more.

”My Lord. I’m your finger mere lamb. I will bring rest to all on earth under your power. I give all the glory to you.”

By the time the radiance of the divine light gathered in my hands all moved beyond the joined hands, the nun’s wounds had all healed without much damage.

It was fortunate that the wound was discovered before it was too late.

Prayer can only heal wounds that have not yet healed. Because there is no way I can do anything about the scars that have arisen from the wounds that have already healed.

The fact that wounds are medals is limited to adventurers and warriors.

It is so natural that even a passing dog knows how serious it is that an indelible scar is engraved on a woman’s body.

Click.

It was then. The mask resting on the nun’s eyelids lost its balance and tilted.

Then, like water seeping through a punctured ferryboat, legitimate doubts as to why she had suddenly started wearing the mask began to eat away at the thought.

After much deliberation, I eventually came to a logical conclusion that it was because of the stye or acne.

At this moment, with an answer sheet in front of my eyes, as a human being, a curious animal, it was impossible not to look at it.

how long has it been like that

yes. It’s rather a gentlemanly act to remove glasses or something from a sleeping person’s face. Or, consider it a reasonable price for treating your hand.

Using such lame excuses as a just cause, they eventually took off the mask from the nun’s face.

”Hmm.”

pretty

Her face, where not even one common blemish could be found, boasted the same elegance as usual.

Unlike the moonlight, which cannot show its brilliance without the help of the sun, the white jade-like skin that emits a sublime light on its own blends with the mystery of the gently closed eyes, to the point where you are caught in a dull illusion that you are looking at a work of art. was

Isn’t the most important virtue for a boss at work not competence, but an outstanding appearance that can tolerate some incompetence?

It was a bittersweet moment that reconfirmed the ugly nature of human beings, who naturally lose their temper just by looking at pretty people.

Why the hell were you wearing a mask? Was it just fashion?

”Kim Saegee, what is this?”

”Meuuu….”

It was around the time that I pinched and stretched the nun’s soft cheeks, trying to soothe the futility that had risen in my thoughts.

”yes?”

My consciousness was briefly disturbed by the unexpected change.

One of the innumerable patterns that the saintess engraved on me, which was on the side of my palm, was melting like paint in contact with water.