The Black-Stockinged Nun Is Actually a Boy?! [14]

After the gathering ended, Helen and Natalie received an invitation card and a folded note delivered by the girl from Booth 9.

"Next Monday — Upper City, Elek Estate"

That was what the note said. Attached beneath it was a black invitation card.

“This is… another transcendent gathering?”

Back in the changing room of Leicester’s antique shop, Natalie voiced the question on her mind.

“You could say that,” Helen replied. “But this time it’s semi-official.”

Natalie paused, then her eyes widened. “Wait… was Booth 9 part of the government? No—she was too young. Maybe a relative?”

“Someone of that level, and interested in military movements? Think about it. Elek Estate only receives royalty and nobles,” Helen mused.

The Empire had four Purple-robed Highnesses: Crown Prince Alexios, Second Princess Eudoxia, Third Princess Irina, and Fourth Prince Nero.

The Crown Prince, now twenty-five, was currently leading a campaign with Emperor Constantine XI.

Eudoxia, age seventeen, was co-managing Constantinople alongside the Grand Vizier.

Irina, sixteen, rarely appeared in public.

The Fourth Prince, also sixteen, was a notorious playboy—or so people thought. Helen knew better: he was a schemer, sharp and dangerous behind the mask of hedonism.

Was it the Third Princess? Or someone close to her? Second Princess is also a possibility… after all, the city’s management is effectively in the vizier’s hands now.

“Where to now? The sun’s about to set.” Natalie stepped outside the shop and gazed at the dusk sky, visibly distracted.

“Buy a steam mech-carriage. Pick up some medical supplies. Then a batch of good-quality black iron swords,” Helen said.

Natalie tilted her head in confusion.

…

The steam mech-carriage cost 40 silver coins—four times more expensive than a traditional beast-drawn cart. It wasn’t faster, but it was much easier to maintain and far more durable.

Under normal use, you just had to drop in a magic crystal and it could run for an entire year. Failing that, even cheap coal would do for a while.

“So we bought this carriage… just to haul medical gear and fifty black iron swords?”

As they rolled out of the Upper City, Natalie finally couldn’t hold back her complaint.

“It doesn’t matter. Spending these 90 silver coins is worth it.” Helen steered the mech-carriage, mentally calculating how to put players to use.

After all, going after sea sirens or harpies with just him and Natalie was a recipe for disaster.

He had plenty of theory and past experience—but he was still a support class. Natalie had combat potential, but no experience to speak of. Before transcending, she was just a high school dropout with a farm girl’s background.

So he needed players. Desperately.

[Seductive Flame] might not be as lethal as standard fire, but it could burn eternally on iron objects. While the enchantment didn’t boost black iron swords’ stats in any real way—it looked amazing.

“Players can’t say no to a sword that’s literally on fire, right?” Helen muttered to himself. “Especially not one glowing with purple flames. It’s just… cool.”

Helen was a man. How could he not understand men?

Boys would pick up any stick on the ground that vaguely resembled a sword and start swinging it around. So how could they resist actual swords—ones blazing with violet fire effects?

They can’t. No one can.

These fifty swords weren’t just weapons. They were bait—tools to get players to work for him.

He only had one life. But players?

They respawn in twelve hours, good as new.

Natalie watched Helen bounce slightly with excitement in the front seat of the carriage, and the corner of her mouth tugged upward in a grin.

So happy, huh? Then tonight, I’ll make sure you’re even happier—in bed.

By the time they returned to District 33, it was already deep into the night.

Tonight, Father Mordes was on duty. In his words, he was fulfilling his mother’s dying wish—finally becoming a Embroidered Uniform Guard (crossed out) … finally becoming a priest. His life was now complete.

Since he’d just taken office, the lazy streak had yet to return—so, for tonight at least, he left Helen and the others alone.

“Father Mordes, here’s the leftover money.” Helen handed him the remaining bills.

Mordes glanced at the stack—about 10 silver worth—then looked at the mech-carriage parked outside. With a long sigh, he asked, “Did you at least buy the bullets?”

Helen nodded dutifully, then handed over the burlap sack at his side.

“Go restock the ammo room. The leftover cash is yours.” Mordes waved him off, turning back to pray before the statue.

“Praise the Holy Light~” Helen pressed his palms together, gave a brief prayer, then tucked away the bills. He spent some time replenishing the weapon storage and bid Mordes farewell.

After that, he and Natalie drove their mech-carriage toward the convent.

The convent for District 33 stood near the city wall, far from the bustle of the main streets. Two dormitory buildings stood side-by-side, with ornate carvings lining their eaves.

After parking the carriage, Helen and Natalie stepped into the convent.

The dorm interior was modest but cozy. The hall was carpeted with thick, albeit inexpensive, rugs—and there was even a fireplace.

“It’s freezing!” Natalie exclaimed as she rushed over to the hearth. After a pause, she glanced over at Helen.

He knew that look. Without a word, he conjured [Seductive Flame], lighting the logs in the fireplace. The crackling warmth quickly filled the room.

“Ah, so warm. Shame I can’t use fire magic,” Natalie murmured, half-sighing.

“Not surprising. Witches specialize in plague, frost, and shadow. Fire’s not usually one of their affinities,” Helen explained as he headed toward the kitchen.

In his previous life, Helen had grown up with only his father—so he’d learned to cook early. With the salt and garlic Natalie had bought, and the meat they’d picked up on the way back, he could throw together a decent dinner.

The effects of the demon’s eye still needed to be purged. With Father Anderson gone, the Inquisition’s scrutiny had shifted toward the players outside the city.

Which meant Helen no longer needed to hide his class aura.

As he worked in the kitchen, he had no idea Natalie—still by the fireplace—was beginning to blush.

This is so weird, she thought, glancing down at her black over-the-knee stockings.

Because Constantinople sat at the crossroads between East and West, it had plenty of imports from the Orient. Stockings, for instance, were one of them. The design came from an Eastern daoshi who’d discovered that a certain black, tar-like mixture of air and water, when heated, could be drawn into fine, durable, flexible threads. Later, he’d partnered with a Frankish alchemist to create silk stockings. They became an instant hit among women.

Is this Helen’s influence? Natalie took a deep breath. She didn’t know why, but something in her heart felt restless.

She suddenly had the urge to pin Helen to the bed—and fiercely protect her.

Neither of them realized that the Temptress passive had already triggered…

“Come eat. I’ve got things to do tonight,” Helen called, setting the food on the table with a weary sigh. “Let’s just keep it simple tonight.”

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This is a fan translation of 黑丝修女姐姐居然是男孩子？ by 水滴磐石 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!