A saintess? She's just a bad woman.

Page 65

"I remember this outfit was very expensive. Miss Shop Manager, you actually put it in the room you prepared for me. Aren't you afraid Miss Bacardi will be angry?"

“Bacardi is just an employee I manage, and her performance is just slightly better than others. She has no right to comment on my decisions. I hope that the clothes I design can be worn by the most suitable people, regardless of their performance or fame. You change into it right now, and wear the high heels I chose. I will do your makeup myself.”

The store manager's tone remained infuriating yet unquestionable, neither gentle nor forceful.

"So, Miss Manager, do you want to watch me change clothes with your own eyes?"

Saint Karina winked playfully at her sea-blue eyes.

122. The Mechanicus

"Why not, Your Holiness?"

The store manager needs some fresh energy. Although the interval between her last recharge and her last one was only two days, she's been quite promiscuous lately and has done a lot of things.

Conservatively estimated, the Mechanical Heart now only has 1/3 of its energy left, and it needs to find a female creature to interact intimately with as soon as possible within the next two days to replenish it.

If I can endure until tomorrow night, there's a gathering of the Mechanical Cult in the middle of the night. As long as I make an excuse to my boss that I need to leave work early, it should be fine to shorten my overtime a little.

Among the followers of the Mechanical Cult are several gentle young women who know of a frail young lady who needs to replenish her magic power periodically. They are happy to dedicate themselves to saving her precarious life.

That young lady is the shop manager.

Although they don't know what the other looks like, when they need help, they only need to ask, and the other will never be perfunctory in doing what they can. These "cult members" are actually kinder than those from reputable sects. In temples similar to those of the gods of order, the clergy may appear benevolent, but in reality, they may ignore believers who need help.

Unless, of course, the believers are rich or powerful. If they had to choose one of those, they would certainly be fully motivated.

The shopkeeper's true deity is not the God of Order, but the founder of the Mechanical Holy Church—the great ancient god Mazteria, who is revered by later generations as the goddess of mechanical industry and the creator of this era of mechanical technology.

This also explains why the shopkeeper has a black gear tattoo when communicating at close range; her parents are also followers of Mazteria and have the same tattoo.

The kind-hearted "cult members" helped her through several times when she was short of magic, and the shopkeeper felt no guilt about it.

Because the gaze of the divine has never lingered on her believers.

As for the reason for leaving the store, the manager only needs to make up an excuse about feeling unwell during her period and leave the club early. Even if she is still a few days away from her actual period, the boss will not actually ask her to take off her skirt to check.

Since she took over as store manager, she has earned more money every night than the previous store manager earned in several nights combined, several times more. The boss wouldn't want her to overwork herself and cause the service quality to drop.

Menstrual periods are always a tried-and-true tactic. During those days, the manager will also hang the name tags of the female escorts in the "special circumstances" area to avoid disturbing customers during their all-age service hours.

The secret gatherings of the Mechanical Cult are held weekly, on any day of the week, and at any location. Followers simply close their eyes and touch their tattoos, and the date and location automatically appear in their minds. This spell, which reveals the date and location, is a mental spell, and the tattoo serves as the medium for its effect.

If the dates of the gatherings are fixed, non-believers will be able to figure out the pattern, causing unnecessary trouble.

Initially, the shopkeeper attended the gathering out of curiosity and to gather information about the Mechanical Heart. Now, she has another purpose—to replenish her magic power. Kind-hearted ladies like her don't mind helping their allies.

Simply inserting delicate fingers into their private parts wouldn't have any negative impact on their morality or health. In return, the manager would explain mechanical engineering to them, repair broken machinery for free, or obtain strange and unusual drugs from the club to arouse their desires.

At first, the shopkeeper attended every gathering without missing an opportunity to learn about the event and gather information. However, the final result was not good. They didn't obtain any useful clues from the gathering, and the books and materials they brought contained only irrelevant content.

Speaking of her first time attending the gathering, the shop manager still remembers how naive she was back then.

"I hope to receive some protection tonight. Great ancient god above, I hope you will bless me to unravel the mystery of the mechanical heart as soon as possible. I will pray to you and make offerings to you every month."

As she spoke, she bowed several times to the miniature statue of the goddess in the cabinet, then put on a black hooded robe and a mask. After confirming that no one was around by the window upstairs, she left home.

The meeting place that day was an abandoned underground bar.

Dozens of believers, dressed in identical black robes and wearing masks, gathered in an abandoned bar. The drinks there were no longer edible, and the people there weren't there to drink; it was simply a meeting place.

The two old friends she met for the first time were the enthusiastic and cheerful Miss Brass and the gentle Miss Gear. They both loved mechanical engineering and chose materials as their codename, which is closely related to mechanical engineering.

The shopkeeper's code name is Diesel, much like their naming convention. They identify each other through masks and body types; believers generally don't change their masks, as they are the only identifying identifier.

"Good evening, ladies."

"Good evening, Ms. Diesel. Your voice sounds very weak. Do you need [that] again?"

Miss Gear is observant and can tell the state of mind from the shop manager's voice.

Since it was her first time, the store manager was a little embarrassed, but still nodded. She had many physical limitations, and it was heartwarming to see someone understand.

"It will only take a few minutes... Miss Gear, next time, I will find you copies of 'History of the Development of the Mechanical Industry' and 'The Mechanical Revolution' in other languages."

"It's alright, it's not a morally corrupt thing. The great Mazteria will be pleased, because her followers are doing something to help people."

"Then let's find a quiet place first."

"it is good."

The more she thought about the conversation, the more something seemed off. The shop manager's cerebral cortex became increasingly agitated, and tears began to well up in her eyes.

After finishing their adult business, the two returned to the lobby of the abandoned bar as if nothing had happened. It seemed to be a free gathering today, as the priest presiding over the event was absent.

The shop manager walked around in the crowd and then returned to her original spot.

Another believer, Huang Tong, whom she had just met, had something to say, and upon seeing the shopkeeper, he casually put his arm around her shoulder.

"I've heard some interesting information about the Mechanical Heart. Would you like to hear it, Miss Diesel?"

"Of course I do."

The shopkeeper was eager for any information about this mechanical heart.

However, she did not expect that the seemingly rough and unrefined brass would be able to obtain information before the gears.

"Um... could you give me more of those cookies that tasted especially good last time?"

"Yes, I will bring it next time we meet. By the great Mazteria, I swear to her."

The shop manager made a gesture as if she were swearing an oath to God.

So, Brass cleared her throat and then leaned closer mysteriously. The shopkeeper smelled beer on her, the kind that costs a few copper coins in a small street pub, a slightly disappointing smell.

“I met a scholar when I was working at a restaurant. She seemed very knowledgeable. I casually asked her about mechanical hearts, and I didn’t expect that she had actually studied related literature.”

"Well, then what?"

"The scholar told me about a mysterious town where a craftsman specializes in making mechanical dolls. The core that drives these dolls to work like real people is a mechanical heart. However, if capitalists heard about these dolls, they would definitely curse them for wasting such a precious resource and start officially experimenting with having dolls replace humans in some factories. After all, those dolls hardly need rest and can produce products 24 hours a day... You must be asking about that thing, right?"

"It should be. Thank you, I finally have some clues. I will definitely investigate according to the clues you provided when I have time. I will send the agreed payment next week."

The shop manager pretended to write this information down in her notebook, but actually rolled her eyes inwardly.

Because this level of mechanical heart and her heart are not even in the same league.

The doll's heart was created by humans, while her mechanical heart seems to be a creation of the gods.

Fortunately, even though I didn't get the information I wanted, the joy of exchanging magic with Miss Gear and the comfort of replenishing my magic made me feel exceptionally happy. Unfortunately, the happy time was very short, lasting only a few minutes.

If only I could meet someone who could absorb magic every day without worrying about revealing her secret, I could indulge in pleasure without being able to extricate myself.

It was already 2 a.m. when the gathering ended, and when they returned to the tavern, the memories had ended, and it was now the time for the tavern manager and the saintess.

Compared to the time Miss Gear opened the door to the middle booth of the abandoned bar, which was filled with a dry, dusty smell, the rooms in the [Tavern] were not only spotless but also luxuriously decorated.

Once the shop manager showed interest, Saint Karina immediately became more proactive.

"Miss Shopkeeper, would you like to try my holy sword?"

If we can bring the other party under our control, many things will be much easier.

"Okay."

The gentle shopkeeper was completely unsuspecting and unaware of the price she would have to pay for accepting the holy sword.

As always, she left her clothes open in front of her cleavage, ready to receive the saint's holy sword.

As everyone knows, the magic of the heart is the purest, second only to that of a certain indescribable place.

"I...I'm coming in."

Saint Karina revealed her holy sword, her breathing rapid.

For some reason, the act of replenishing mana with the shopkeeper always gave Saint Karina a strange, immoral feeling, as if she were cheating. However, both she and the shopkeeper were genuinely single, and there was no question of them having an affair behind their partners' backs.

"Come, Your Holiness."

Upon hearing the shopkeeper's response, Saint Karina gripped the slender tip of the holy sword in her palm, her hand slightly sweaty with nervousness. The tip was slightly warm, and the triangular end was visibly trembling.

The process of absorbing magic is pleasurable, almost comparable to the feeling of receiving a salary or bonus.

With a powerful and heavy strike, the holy sword pierced steadily into the shopkeeper's indescribable place, and she let out a low groan.

This is just an ordinary thing, like eating and drinking.

The normal reaction that must occur when someone's magic is drained is to utter a monosyllabic word. According to the descriptions of those who have experienced it, the moment the Holy Sword touches them, their brain goes blank, a tingling current surges up their spine, their toes curl up, and their breathing becomes increasingly heavy.

Santa Karina watched as she leaned back, like a student excitedly exchanging biological knowledge at its most exciting moment.

The temperature and humidity in the air were abnormally high, a fact both of them tacitly acknowledged. During this time, the absorber and the absorbed magic could empathize, experiencing the same feelings and emotions.

In short, it's refreshing.

The empty mechanical heart was filled with a continuous flow of magic, and the weary soul and body were thoroughly cleansed. The shopkeeper became radiant, and her previous weakness and fatigue vanished.

"Phew—I'm saved."

Like a fully charged cell phone, she twitched four or five times before pulling out the holy sword with a satisfied expression.

"Thank you for your help, Your Excellency. If my magic power is too low, I really can't guarantee a normal life."

"It's okay. Actually, I'm quite...comfortable too," she said quietly.

The shopkeeper didn't quite catch the last word. She hurriedly tidied her disheveled clothes and pulled a small, hardcover book from her pocket. It was a newly released fantasy novel, a bestseller in the bookstore.

"This is tonight's reward. This book is excellent, so I'm giving it to you. You can use it to pass the time when you're bored."

"Thank you."

Santa Karina happily accepted the gift.

123. The Stage for Tomorrow's Stars

"Miss store manager, don't you feel anything?"

However, Saint Karina asked with a smile.

"What do you feel? I feel like magic has filled me up, and your holy sword is really amazing, I mean really amazing in every sense of the word."

The store manager was full of praise for it.

"really……"

Saint Karina muttered a thought to herself, realizing that she hadn't sensed any change in the shopkeeper; the usually effective Holy Sword had failed her this time.

The contract did not apply to the shop manager, but it was effective for the other women.

The shop manager is hiding a secret, at least at the level of a deity.

"By the way, Your Excellency, I've helped you so many times already, why don't you help my shop this time too?"

"How can you help?"

"There's an event at the tavern tonight that requires a female hostess with an excellent figure and temperament. If Your Excellency is also willing to participate in this event, it will surely bring honor to the tavern."

"You don't want me to dance as a saint, do you?"

This isn't the first time she's danced in public; she's done both serious and unserious dances.

However, she didn't care about using her identity as the Holy Maiden of the Defender of the Nation to perform a proper dance in an improper place. For now, Saint Karina was still the Holy Maiden of the Order God Church chosen by that morbid woman, Esther.

If St. Karina sneaks out to fool around in the middle of the night and finds out that she went to such a place and even dances to please other women, then Esther will definitely turn St. Karina upside down.

Asking her to perform such a provocative dance in front of so many people would undoubtedly be difficult for her.

"That is indeed a problem, but it's only polite to reciprocate. You can only get more rewards if you take risks, right?"

"Okay...that's true."

Because of the contractual issues, Saint Karina felt a little guilty.

"I understand. Do as you wish."

"Your Holiness, please dance for me on stage. I want to see something very exciting, preferably with very thin and revealing clothes that might fall off while you're dancing, but not now."

The words were spoken so softly that only the two of them could hear them.

The dance is a short performance, so it needs to be seen by as many people as possible. It's obvious that the evenings are the busiest time and the best time to perform.

In fact, Saint Karina, who had just politely declined, was not ashamed at all of the words "shameful" or "undignified" about dancing in front of others because of her status as a public relations professional. If outsiders thought that this would break down her psychological defenses, they would be sorely mistaken.

She would not be ashamed of it; instead, she would put on a stunning dance that would make the audience spend a fortune.