Chapter 273.2

Chapter 273.2. Curry

-Mion’s POV-

“Nee-chan, nee-chan, something’s wrong! Weird people are here!”

“The person coming is strange, isn’t he?”

“Not that Nee-chan, even weirder people!”

I turn to my worried friend’s face, and although he says the person we’re expecting is weird, he vehemently shakes his head, denying it.

“The Director is with them right now, and they’re incredibly strange-looking guys. I think… they mentioned Yggdrasil!”

“Oh, Yggdrasil, huh? Those people can be loud, but they’re followers of the Saint, so they’re not weird, right?”

“Ugh, they’re weird people. Those robes they wear are weird!”

A boy asserts, breathing heavily. It seems the robes and hoods make the followers of Yggdrasil look strange to him.

“Hey, that’s rude, you know? Those people might be… weird. Yeah, they might be.”

“See? I told you!”

“Yeah, you’re right… Wearing robes like that does make them seem strange.”

I try to admonish the boy, but I suddenly realize he’s right. That attire is unusual.

Even a solitary monk would seem suspicious in that white robe, but when a large group of followers parades around in it, it’s even more bizarre.

In contrast to adventurers, the fact that they are followers of a new religious group was evident, making them seem quite suspicious.

As they walk in front of me, I’ll move away.

I start to wonder why I didn’t find them suspicious earlier. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable to be cautious.

It’s as if a fog has suddenly lifted, and I’ve become concerned.

“Where are these visitors now?”

“Uh, the Director is guiding them to the reception room.”

Upon hearing the response, my sense of caution intensified.

“They might be swindlers! Let’s go check them out!”

“Yeah! Let’s all go together!”

“The rest of you stay and keep the curry simmering! No snacking on it!”

We dash off, and my friends follow suit. We step on the old, dirtied floor that has turned black from wear and head towards the reception room.

The creaking of the floorboards accompanies our hurried steps, echoing in the dimly lit corridor.

Several fluorescent lights have gone out, casting a dim light on the hallway. We can hear voices talking inside as we approach the reception room door.

I raise my index finger to my lips, signaling everyone to be quiet.

Somewhat feeling like adventurers or detectives, we nod to each other and press our ears against the door.

The wooden door is thin, so voices from inside are easily audible.

“So, we are seeking new hopeful children! If you join us now, Yggdrasil will support the orphanage. Please give it some thought.”

We hear a somewhat high-pitched voice, and its content makes me furrow my brow. It sounds like religious recruitment.

“What, just another recruitment pitch?”

“They seem suspicious.”

We whisper to each other quietly, trying to eavesdrop without being detected.

Could it be something extraordinary? But when we open the lid, it turns out to be just a regular recruitment pitch.

“They’re trying to recruit at the orphanage? How foolish. Right, Mion-nee”

“Indeed. We’ve never had newspaper salesmen or recruiters visit us, considering we’re always struggling financially.”

I exchange glances with my friends, expressing our sadness. After all, the orphanage is constantly on the verge of financial crisis. Any kind of sales pitch will skip the orphanage.

“They’re talking about support and stuff, right? They might give donations.”

A young girl from the group expresses a glimmer of hope, so I respond with a wry smile. There’s no way such a good deal exists.

“Unfortunately not. These types usually ask for money in the end, despite talking about physical labor and support.”

“Oh, I see. I thought we might get an extra side dish for today’s meal…”

It’s a rare occurrence, but if we get a large donation, we get an extra side dish for dinner. It usually becomes dessert, so the girl was disappointed.

As I was about to return to the kitchen to say I was sorry, I heard the Director’s voice who sounded like an old lady.

“Too bad. It’s common for them to ask for donations after these kinds of talks.”

“Sorry about that. It’s just that we have so many kids to take care of, and we’re always struggling. We don’t even have the time to join a religion.”

I hear the kind-hearted, grandmotherly Director’s voice. She knows the reality of our situation and is quite strong in her own right, protecting us.

“What do you think? We can’t join, but could you please show us your kind hearts with a small donation?”

The Director is turning the tables on religious recruiters and asking for donations instead. That’s how we view it. Salespeople and recruiters never come to our orphanage.

I expected the recruiters to be baffled and run away, but surprisingly, they responded with some agreement.

“Is that so? It seems running an orphanage is quite difficult. However, all our possessions belong to our spiritual leader. Hmm, yes, that’s right…”

There’s a brief moment of contemplation. Perhaps they might donate after all. I hold onto a glimmer of hope, but then I hear their voices again.

“How about this? Since you couldn’t join us, let us offer you a Holy Wafer.” n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

I’m disappointed, thinking they’re trying to appease us with a snack.