The Black-Stockinged Nun Is Actually a Boy?! [13]

“These black mists block light and sound between booths. If you want to communicate with the outside, press the button on your seat.”

Helen patiently explained the setup to Natalie.

A short while later, once it seemed everyone had arrived, a figure stepped onto the stage—a person in luxurious robes, wearing a jester’s mask. Standing beside the large table, the masked host spoke in a stiff, mechanical voice.

“The audience is assembled. Let the performance begin. Anyone wish to sell an item? If not, we’ll proceed to phase two.”

As the voice echoed through the space, a soft ding came from a booth ahead of Helen’s. A raspy voice followed: “Booth 3, offering a Frost Broom.”

With a snap of the host’s fingers, a shimmering blue broom appeared onstage—elegant and clearly magical.

The host pulled out a magnifying glass and examined it for a moment before announcing, “The item carries a transcendent aura. Seller, please explain its function?”

“Flight. Enhances frost magic,” came the curt reply from Booth 3.

“Understood. What are your terms?” the host continued.

“Looking for materials. Anything’s fine, but preferably from hellspawn or deep-sea beasts. The more, the better.” The seller paused, then added reluctantly, “Coin is acceptable. Two hundred silver.”

Natalie’s eyes widened at the price, and she stuck out her tongue in disbelief.

“That’s perfectly normal. Transcendent items are never cheap,” Helen nodded.

Between Anderson’s funding and his own stash, Helen had a total of 103 silver coins. Technically, it should’ve been 106—but he’d spent 3 silver helping those three players last night, covering the cost of 3,000 copper bullets.

Factoring in Natalie’s small savings, they had about 115 silver coins in total—not even close to the asking price.

“Do you want it?” Helen turned and asked.

Natalie nodded at first, then shook her head. “Too expensive.”

“Remember what you have stored in your magic space?” Helen’s lips curled into a knowing smile.

Realization dawned on Natalie. She leaned in and whispered, “Then how do we bid?”

“The seller’s probably in an alchemy-based class, judging by how much material they want. The more we offer, the better.” Helen pressed the button beside him and spoke up: “Three pairs of demon claws.”

“Too little,” came the dissatisfied reply from Booth 3.

“Adding five demon horns,” Helen continued without missing a beat.

“If you’ve got three pairs, then that’s three demons, right? Let’s not haggle. Throw in three pairs of demon eyes,” the seller said, clearly losing patience.

Natalie’s expression tensed. They only had two pairs of eyes left—one pair had already been consumed, split between her and Helen, to suppress their aura.

“Apologies. We only have two pairs. Our mistress needs the rest,” Helen said smoothly, throwing in a deliberate misdirection.

A grunt came from Booth 3. Then: “Fine. Deal.”

Natalie immediately retrieved the materials from her magic space.

Helen took out a bill worth 1,000 copper coins and placed it atop the materials before setting everything into the mist at the front of their booth.

“What’s that for?”

“A transaction fee.”

“That much?” Natalie was taken aback. That was a whole silver coin.

“They’re providing the platform. Fair enough,” Helen shrugged. “Besides, it’s for strengthening ourselves. Worth it.”

At that moment, the host snapped his fingers. The Frost Broom onstage vanished and reappeared before them—while the materials and currency were swept away in its place. The trade was complete.

“This is… for me?” Natalie looked at the broom, hesitant.

Helen nodded slightly. “Of course. Don’t you think a witch and a broom make the perfect pair?”

Natalie didn’t answer. Instead, she silently reached out and lifted the Frost Broom. Its cold surface stung her fingers—but somehow, that chill warmed her heart.

From being mocked by rich kids at school, to dropping out, to last night’s villagers’ disbelief… the guard captain’s disdain… the patrol’s indifference… her relatives’ hypocrisy after her parents passed—Natalie had learned early on just how cruel the world could be.

And yet, in all that darkness, it was this small, frail nun who responded to her plea. Even if Helen claimed it was for her own benefit… still—why?

Why?

“Why…?” Natalie whispered under her breath.

“Because we’re in the same boat,” Helen replied with a shrug. “If what happened last night gets exposed, we’ll both have to flee.”

Because I need someone who can fight. And you happen to fit the bill, she added silently.

Natalie lowered her head slightly.

Same boat… huh?
Then we’re alike, aren’t we, Sister Helen?
…Thank you.

After that, more items were auctioned—oddities and rarities—but the prices kept Helen and Natalie at bay. Between the 115 silver they had and the materials they'd just traded, they were tapped out.

Soon, the free trade phase ended, and the second phase began.

“Starting with Booth 1, please state your requests,” the host announced, dragging over a chair and lounging in it lazily.

What followed made it clear why the host sounded so indifferent—this phase, the request phase, was rarely fruitful. Matching exact needs wasn’t easy. Unlike the sale phase, deals here were few and far between.

Before long, it was Helen’s turn—Booth 13.

She pressed the button, not expecting much. “Seeking: Tier 2 Temptress seed or Tier 2 Witch seed. Also looking for a transcendent weapon with defensive properties. Will trade in exchange for intelligence on the Imperial frontlines—especially regarding goblins.”

There were two ways to advance a transcendent class: one was through direct combat, letting the seed within grow and sprout—what players used to call “grinding for XP.”

The other was ingesting a Tier 2 seed directly. It still required internal germination, but the breakthrough was easier to achieve.

The moment Helen spoke, the entire theater fell into a brief hush.

“Booth 13, pardon the question—but are you military? From your request, I’d guess you’re a succubus, or maybe a Frankish elf? Or perhaps Venetian fishfolk?” came a crisp young voice from Booth 9—sounding like a teenage girl, sixteen or seventeen.

“If you don’t trust me, we can speak privately,” Helen replied calmly.

“Requesting private channel,” the girl called to the host.

Still seated, the host pulled a lever beside his chair. The black mist swirled tighter, cloaking Booths 9 and 13 in privacy.

“I have a silver anklet that grants one Holy Shield per day,” the girl said. “No seeds, but Aegean sea sirens sometimes drop Tier 2 Temptress seeds. Now, your intel?”

“South of the border, Sultan Mehmed II of the Ottoman Kingdom has entered a secret ceasefire with the goblin alliance. In about a month, they’ll be able to redirect their forces north to engage the Empire.”

Helen’s tone was even. “Here’s another tip: the Kurman mercenaries in our forces are showing interest in goblin bounties.”

“What if you’re lying?” the girl asked skeptically.

“This afternoon—around this very hour—the Empire was attacked by the goblin alliance. The assault lasted an hour. Then, without warning, the goblins retreated.”

The girl fell silent, likely confirming something. After a long pause, she replied, “Deal. The anklet is yours. I can’t provide a seed, but I’ve heard Tier 2 Witch seeds are linked to harpies.”

As if I didn’t already know all this. I’m practically drowning in “intel” like this.

Helen rolled her eyes inwardly.

Still—getting a transcendent item for free wasn’t a bad outcome.

“Deal.”

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T/N: big words me no understandy

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!