Sister, I Hit You Because There Was a Ghost Behind You - Chapter 3

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 3. Contractual Exorcist Benefits: One Head Pat Per Day
I smoothed down the folds of my dress with elegant nonchalance, as though I’d done nothing at all. Demian stood across from me, his face flushed crimson, hastily gathering his disheveled uniform while breathing heavily.
“…You’re truly a dangerous woman.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
* * *
Basement Level 3. First Interrogation Room.
I settled into the iron chair with comfortable ease. Demian, seated across from me, set down his file folder and regarded me with a look of utter exasperation.
“There’s only one thing I want to ask.”
He leaned forward, his blue eyes gleaming with a chilling intensity.
“The black smoke you eliminated at the Wedding Venue. And what you tried to avoid at the Inquisition Headquarters entrance. …What exactly do you see with those eyes of yours?”
Finally, we were getting to the heart of it. I dropped my playful demeanor and met his gaze with earnest resolve.
“If I tell you, will you believe me?”
“If it’s reasonable.”
“There’s a small child standing behind your shoulder. A boy, about five years old, with red marks around his neck. He’s holding a worn teddy bear.”
Demian’s pupils trembled. He reflexively started to turn left before stopping himself.
“…Stop joking around.”
“I’m not joking. That child is telling you something. ‘Big brother, it doesn’t hurt anymore. So please don’t cry.'”
Snap.
The pen in Demian’s hand snapped in two.
All color drained from his face. He went pale as a ghost. This child was no malevolent spirit. A guardian spirit. A pure and luminous soul protecting Demian.
Likely his dead younger brother.
“Did you…investigate my background?”
“We only just met today—how could I have investigated anything? I’m simply telling you what I see.”
Demian clutched his face in confusion.
The mask of the cold Inquisition official was slipping away.
I leaned across the table and extended my hand toward him.
“Lord Demian, let’s make a deal.”
“…A deal?”
“I see what you cannot. Demons, malevolent spirits, monsters wearing human skin. And you possess the strength and authority to eliminate them. Hire me as your partner. Not as a hunting dog, but as a hunter.”
Demian stared at me with disbelief written across his features.
“Can you prove your ability? That you’re not simply seeing illusions?”
“Proof? Easy. Look at the bottom drawer of that cabinet over there. Behind the stack of documents. There’s a dark aura seeping out.”
Demian eyed me skeptically, then slowly rose and opened the cabinet. His hand froze. What he withdrew was a cursed doll, its surface marked with grotesque patterns drawn in crimson blood.
A conduit for dark magic that someone had planted deep within the Inquisition Headquarters itself.
“This is…!”
Demian spun around in shock. I shrugged and smiled.
“See? My eyes don’t deceive.”
“…Who are you, really? A true saint, or a witch?”
I leaned close to his ear and whispered.
“Who knows. But to you, I’m about to become a very useful madwoman.”
My provocative proposal made the Empire’s youngest Holy Knights Order commander’s face flush crimson once more.
“You’re insane….”
Demian let out a hollow laugh. The vulgar language spilling from the rigid commander’s lips carried an oddly seductive edge.
“Very well. Let’s make a deal. I acknowledge your abilities. What are your conditions?”
“Protection of my person. And independence from Count Eberhardt’s family. Oh, and you’ll naturally be providing compensation.”
I waggled my index finger.
“There’s one more crucial welfare condition.”
“Welfare… condition?”
“Sir Lyaert, I’m talking about you.”
I leaned forward across the table.
“To me, you’re a walking high-performance air purifier… no, a holy relic. When I’m near you, I don’t hear the headache-inducing ghost voices, and the stench disappears. Three times a day. Permit me physical contact.”
“…What?”
“I need purification. I need to wash my filthy eyes and ears clean with that abundant holy power of yours. Whether it’s holding hands or embracing.”
Crash.
Demian nearly toppled backward in his chair before barely catching himself.
“You, you really…! Do you know where this is, making such shameless…!”
“Shameless? This is a matter of survival. If I’m going to work with a clear mind instead of going mad, I need your purification. If you don’t like it, fine. Then I might go insane from the ghost voices while working and swing an iron club at my own allies?”
Faced with this veiled threat, Demian clamped his mouth shut. After groaning for a while, he finally exhaled a deep sigh and nodded.
“…Understood. However, please refrain from this in public places. And… embracing is absolutely forbidden unless it’s a dire emergency. I’ll only permit hand-holding.”
“Deal. Contract sealed.”
I grinned and extended my hand to him. Demian irritably peeled off his gloves and grasped my hand. A large, firm hand. His calloused, rough palm enveloped mine.
Zing—
The moment our hands touched, a clear, refreshing energy spread from my fingertips throughout my entire body. My mind felt as crisp as if I’d taken a menthol shower.
‘Ah, this tingle. It’s the best.’
I gripped his hand tightly and refused to let go, closing my eyes to savor the sensation. Demian’s fingers twitched as if wanting to shake my hand off, but I could feel him forcibly restraining himself because of our agreement.
“Well then, since we’ve made a contract… shall we begin the first task? Let’s start by cleaning this building. It was quite a mess when I came in.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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