"That's what happened. I'm sorry."
Vikir turned around and apologized.
Dolores, blank-faced, was unable to respond.
And the others surrounding them couldn't help but misunderstand his blank expression.
"Vikir! Are you crazy! Why are you so bold!"
"The saint is in shock!"
"Aaaah! Sister, quickly go to the shower room! I will help you!"
Who in the world would pee on a saint's belly?
It was hard to believe what was happening.
Tudor, Sancho, and Piggy were stunned by this unprecedented disaster.
Sinclair and Bianca are also at a loss for words, their mouths gaping like koi fish.
Only one. Only Vikir remained calm and rational.
"A person can drink and make mistakes."
That's what Vikir said to Dolores, trying to comfort her.
He was trying to tell her not to worry too much.
But for the other students watching, it was just too much.
"Saint. Let's declare a crusade."
"Vikir! Get down on your knees and pray, or you're expelled!"
"A crusade! There's going to be a Crusade of the Quovadis!"
Meanwhile.
"...."
Dolores's mouth dropped open, but she couldn't say anything.
His vision was spinning.
'...What the hell is going on here? Why is everyone yelling at Vikir? I'm the one who peed.'
Thoughts raced through her mind, paralyzing her.
Panic. For the first time, she lost her cool.
Normally, she would have accepted being called a pisser, but she wouldn't have put her stigma on others.
But Dolores was in such a state of shock that she couldn't tell if this was really real or a nightmare.
That's why she's sitting on the bed with her mouth half-open, unable to speak.
She is even showing signs of temporary aphasia.
Sinclair and Bianca are on either side of Dolores, who looks like a lost soul.
"Ms. President. Let's get you to the bathroom first."
"Don't you guys look away! I'm going to stab you with an arrow!"
Sinclair and Bianca scooped up the half-fainted Dolores and ran to the bathroom.
The rest of the girls looked on and began to clean up Dolores' bed.
The boys look on, unable to move.
Next. Tudor, Sancho, Piggy, and the other boys surrounded Vikir and asked in disbelief.
"Vi, Vikir. Did you really pee yourself, didn't you? Please tell us you didn't."
"You must have just sweat... explosively on your lower body, right, buddy?"
"Please, Vikir, at this rate you're not just going to be called a pisser; you pissed on a saint's belly, that's blasphemy!"
But Vikir was not listening to his friends.
He had taken on Dolores' shame for two reasons.
The first was as a small repayment for the blessing he had received from St. Dolores before his return.
Dolores, then known as the Saintess of the Battlefield, had brought countless wounded soldiers back from the brink of death, and Vikir was one of them.
Though Dolores had no memory of Vikir's name or face at the time, Vikir had not forgotten her grace in his second life.
And the second is assassination.
Guilty. I must kill him before this night is over.
In truth, I didn't have much time for such childish games.
I must finish my drink quickly.
But then the saint gave me a good excuse.
"I'm sorry, friends. When I drink, I turn into a dog."
A dog is a dog. A hunting dog.
Vikir apologized, and his friends were surprisingly forgiving.
"Ugh, you've ruined the party. Oh well."
"Well, it's definitely a memorable night, though."
" Vikir... I'll find you a good transfer school. I'll always remember it. hik... hik hik...."
Tudor and Sancho laughed hysterically, while Piggy cried for Vikir's future.
Piggy could see how hard it would be for Vikir to do well in school now that he had been spotted by the saint, and by all the girls in this room.
...Of course.
"Then let's go back now. Sorry about the cleaning. Tell the saint to charge me for the laundry later."
Although Vikir himself didn't seem to mind at all.
* * *
Late at night.
The boys who had infiltrated the girls' dormitory had returned to the boys' dormitory under the cover of night.
Just before returning to their respective rooms, Vikir purposely lagged, alone.
"I'm going to stop by the laundry room for a while."
He had a good excuse – he needed to wash his pee pants – so he didn't arouse suspicion.
Tudor, Sancho, and Piggy patted Vikir on the back as he headed for the laundry room.
"Come on, Vikir. I am your friend, even if you turn the faith religion into an enemy. Our Spear will be your strength."
"If you are expelled, don't worry about finding a job. I will recommend you to the Mercenary Guild of the North. With my recommendation, you should be able to get an office position."
"Come on, guys, let's leave Vikir alone. I'm on your side, of course! I'm a commoner, but I'm sure that my family can help you if you need it!"
With that, everyone hurried into the room, as if to give Vikir some time alone.
Until the door closed behind them, they were still talking about Vikir.
What... 'Even a saint wouldn't expel him,' 'If we're going to make this a public issue, we'll have to reveal that we've been sneaking drinks at night, and that's going to hurt everyone,' 'I hope this incident stays quiet,' and so on.
Meanwhile.
"...."
Vikir returned to the laundry room, stripped off his wet clothes, and quickly changed into the outfit he had hidden away.
The Night Hound.
Wrapped in black cloth and a plague doctor's mask over his face, he looked like an unstoppable monster.
The hound is now on the hunt.
'The timing was not bad.'
Tudor and Bianca had organized the boys' and girls' meetings so well that they already knew the supervisor's shifts and patrol routes.
They had also memorized the layout and shape of each building from their volunteer work.
Vikir quickly scaled the laundry room's window ledge and scaled the opposite building's exterior wall.
He was able to find his way around with his eyes closed because he had worked so hard in the past.
Vikir scaled an old drainage pipe he had drilled, crossed the roof of a building he had repaired, and moved from building to building through a window he had installed.
The drainpipe was welded together at various joints for him to grab and climb, and the building roof was carved with recesses for him to crawl under and hide.
Even the bare walls, which originally had no windows, had red bricks cut into them for easy access.
The chimneys on the roof, the laundry room, the shower, the toilet, the hallway windows, etc.
Then.
Vikir faced a circular group of buildings that surrounded Guilty's quarters in four layers.
The first was the building 4, which housed children aged 17-19.
The second is the building 3, which housed children aged 13-16.
The third is the building 2, which housed children aged 8-12.
The fourth was Building 1, which housed the newborns.
Only after passing through these four buildings and going deeper and deeper inside did Vikir find the room where Guilty was sleeping.
Vikir slid across the roof and landed at the back door of Building 4.
When he shakes the glass window at the end of the hallway he had previously loosened, the latch comes off, and the window opens.
…Rattle, rattle, rattle-
With a ghostly movement, Vikir climbed through the window and was immediately confronted with the dark, silent corridor of Building 4.
And then.
"...!"
Vikir found a notice posted on the other side of a hallway as quiet as a tomb.
It was grim and meaningful enough to hold Vikir's gaze for a moment as he walked deeper into the hallway.
-This orphanage provides the following rules of conduct for the safety of night shift staff.
※The information below must never be disclosed to the outside world, and this Orphanage will not provide any compensation for accidents that violate these items.