“Summer, what on earth….”
The Pope quickly took out a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against Summer's neck. The white handkerchief was soon stained red.
The Pope looked severely flustered, appearing as if he were terrified. He always acted so enigmatic, but it seemed he had this side to him as well.
“How did you know I was about to die?”
Perhaps due to the release of tension, Summer's voice cracked slightly. The Pope opened his mouth, his already pale face turning even whiter.
“I was volunteering nearby. It’s a regularly held event.”
His voice trembled a little. He was still trapped in that moment when Summer had raised the dagger.
“Your Holiness. Are you asking me to believe that?”
“The wound has healed completely. More importantly, how did you end up in this dangerous place?”
When the Pope removed his hand, it was as if there had never been a wound at all.
As if nothing had happened, the Pope changed his expression entirely and smiled kindly.
A scoff escaped Summer's lips as she exhaled, asking mockingly, “Haha, but why are you here, Your Holiness?”
“That is….”
The Pope tightly shut his mouth.
No matter how much he claimed to be volunteering nearby, what could a person of his stature be doing in a deserted alley wearing a black hood?
Even if he tried to make an excuse, it should at least sound plausible. Summer clicked her tongue inwardly and waved her hand dismissively.
“Don’t say anything. I don’t want to get involved.”
“You’re quite perceptive, my lady.”
“Yes. I have other things to think about.”
What on earth does the world want from me? I had to think.
The only possible death at this point was to die naturally, without breaking the plausibility.
However, it seemed the world was also displeased that Summer had drunk poison in place of Julian.
So how exactly was she supposed to die to be sent back to the original world?
This part seemed like something she would need to check again in the prayer room.
“What on earth is the problem?”
“The temple is always open, so if you have any difficulties, please feel free to visit.”
Another insufferable remark. Summer openly frowned and distanced herself from the Pope. The cold bricks pressed against her back.
“I like that temple. If only Your Holiness didn’t act so suspiciously.”
“Haha. If I ask you, will you become my accomplice?”
“I would refuse.”
“I expected as much.”
The Pope continued to smile enigmatically. Yet, the tips of his fingers holding the handkerchief trembled slightly.
His inability to completely hide his agitation was very, very unfamiliar.
Perhaps now, she could extract something?
“If I share a story first, can you share one in return, Your Holiness?”
From Summer's perspective, the Pope seemed to know a lot.
He didn’t seem like someone from the world she originally lived in, yet he was observing this world like a spectator.
So she had to extract everything she could from him.
This world is a mess. Nothing flowed according to plan or resolution.
Noisy, flashy, and never leaving a person in peace.
Loud and lonely.
“Summer. First, may I have your name?”
“Go ahead. You’re already calling me that.”
“Summer, just a moment.”
The Pope leaned closer to Summer's ear. His beautiful lavender hair brushed against her cheek, tickling her.
Just his approach brought a refreshing scent that made her forget this was a dirty alley.
“Summer. My name is, Damian Cheshire.”
“Damian Cheshire.”
“Yes. Damian Cheshire. Now that you know my name, we are accomplices.”
“Excuse me? Where is that law…!”
While Summer was flustered, the Pope burst into laughter, threw off his hood, and took her hand to lead her.
“…Huh?”
Surprise filled Summer's eyes as she looked at the Pope.
His beautiful lavender hair gradually turned black.
Led by the Pope, Summer hurriedly exited the alley.
As they emerged into the bustling market with an open view, strangely, her heart felt both overwhelmed and relieved.
The Pope continued to hold Summer's hand as they navigated through the crowd.
What was astonishing was that no one recognized the Pope.
She thought she understood the reason. The Pope's symbol was purple. They wouldn’t have recognized him with black hair.
But how could he change his hair at will in this world? The question still lingered.
“We're almost there, Summer.”
“Your Holiness, your hair….”
“Didn’t we just say we are accomplices?”
The Pope turned to look at Summer, smiling brightly like a blooming flower.
His hair was blacker than the night sky, and his eyes were redder than blood.
“…What on earth.”
“You know, in the Empire, purple is considered sacred.”
The Pope loosened his grip on Summer's hand. But he didn’t let go.
Summer had almost forgotten that she was simply holding his hand, but Damian still looked at their joined hands with a satisfied smile.
“Can you change your hair color with divine power?”
“There’s nothing that can’t be done with divine power, except for harming someone.”
“What’s real?”
“This appearance is Damian Cheshire.”
The Pope wore a languid smile. Ah, he finally felt a bit more natural.
“Why did you change your appearance?”
“……Those with divine power all have light-colored body hair. Like sky blue or lavender.”
Julian Dudley immediately came to mind. His cotton candy-like lovely appearance.
With swirling sky-blue hair and sparkling pink eyes.
But the Pope before her now had an appearance that suited a captivating demon more than anything.
“Is that all there is to it?”
“You really don’t know, do you? I’m a commoner.”
“……What?”
“To rise to the position of Pope, a commoner must have no flaws whatsoever, aside from their status.”
“……That’s harsh.”
The truth that Summer didn’t know was even harsher. Those who used divine power without the evidence of light body hair were stoned as those who wielded evil power.
Damian had also nearly been killed that way.
If he hadn’t had a benefactor, he would have already been killed by the hands of the crowd.
Ironically, Damian, who had the elements to be killed by them, had learned how to change his hair and eye color with divine power and was receiving their worship.
There’s a saying to turn the other cheek to the one who strikes your right cheek, but Damian couldn’t understand it.
He couldn’t love the crowd that had killed his mother, burned down his home, and tried to kill him.
“Why did you give me divine power? Cursing the gods was Damian’s daily life.”
“I have accepted my fate. It’s not uncomfortable, so please don’t look at me with such eyes.”
But talking about such dark matters would only burden Summer.
So Damian simply smiled and said it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Summer glanced at Damian and opened her mouth nonchalantly.
“I didn’t pity you. It’s just that I felt like the place I had to return to wasn’t that different from here.”
Ordinary. To reach that word, she had to endure a harsh and difficult time. Once she became ordinary. And then what?
“Is that so?”
“So I mean I can’t pity you, Damian. Unless I understand.”
“…….”
Damian’s eyes trembled slightly. But Summer was too busy looking around to notice his face.
It was a look that one might wear upon hearing words they had never heard in their life.
“Where is this place? It’s so desolate.”
“Just a little further, and we’ll be there.”
Following Damian, they walked a bit more until they came upon a grave on a quiet hill where the wind blew.
“Here it is. The place I wanted to show you.”
“Oh my. I guess romance is out of the question for me.”
“Were you expecting it?”
“No. Just kidding. By the way, is it okay to just come in here? It seems like private property.”
“Of course not.”
“Can the Pope do this?”
“It’s fine. I’m not a good Pope.”
Damian lightly crinkled his nose and laughed. Summer turned her gaze from him to the grave that had no headstone.
“Why do you want to show me this? If I’m not careful, you might end up like this too?”
“Well, it’s similar.”
“Excuse me? Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I didn’t bring you here to threaten you, so don’t worry.”
The Pope slowly sat on the grass and gently brushed the grave with his hand. It was as if he were caressing something very precious.
For no reason, Summer felt a sense of reverence and quietly closed her eyes in prayer.
A gust of wind blew, causing the blades of grass to lean to one side, and when the wind stopped, they stood upright again.
The occasional blooming shepherd's purse swayed in the light breeze, and the fluffy seeds from the dandelions flew away with the wind.
It was a peaceful and beautiful space.
When Summer opened her eyes and lifted her head after finishing her prayer, Damian was watching her with a face that seemed to be holding back laughter.
“Damian… how long have you been watching?”
“Since earlier. Does the owner of this grave know you’re praying?”
“I don’t know. But farewells are always sad.”
At Summer’s sulky reply, Damian burst into laughter and leaned back against the grave.
“I wonder if they returned well.”
“Whose grave is it?”
“Selena.”
It was a name that sounded distinctly feminine. Summer’s mind raced. She hadn’t seen it at all while reading the original work.
It was likely that she either didn’t appear at all or had a very minor role.
“Hmm, she must have been an important person to you, Your Holiness.”
“She was important. She gave me the possibility of becoming Pope.”
To express it that way, Damian’s face was filled with longing.
“That’s amazing. Was it perhaps a romantic interest?”
“It was respect. But then she left.”
“Hmm, may she rest in peace in heaven.”
Summer cautiously prayed. Damian watched her pray, then playfully chuckled.
“If she returned to heaven, that would be a problem.”
“…….”
“Isn’t that right, Summer Lindsey?”
Thump, thump. Summer’s heart began to race.