The Black-Stockinged Nun Is Actually a Boy?! [1] & Synopsis

In Constantinople, Sister Helen is known among the monks as a figure who blends charm and power — if a little offbeat.

But one witch knows the truth: Helen is a succubus.

Bishop Helen — the dream goddess of countless players, the epitome of sweet and innocent aesthetics in-game.

But one imperial princess knows just how rotten Helen truly is at heart.

Commander Helen — leading an army on campaign, her forces are undying and endless.

But one female player knows: this is the result of Helen’s shameless collusion with the Fourth Calamity.

Saint Helen…

“Your Holiness,” a certain elf whispered in Helen’s ear, “you wouldn’t want the people to find out you’re a boy, would you?”

Abridged version:
The story of a “nun” (questionable) teaming up with players to scam, swindle, and deceive.

Got a moment? Want to help save Constantinople?

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Constantinople.
Early spring.
Morning.

Helen rose from a white but cheaply made bed and stared blankly at the cramped, narrow room around him.

Tch. I forgot. This isn’t my world anymore—it’s that game world.

He rubbed his head, got out of bed, changed into the nun’s robe folded at the foot, and walked over to the room’s only window, gazing out at the bustling street below.

Magic & Firearms was a wildly popular global RPG holo-game, filled with magic and technology. And the world outside his window was identical—down to the last detail—to that very game.

He had confirmed it the night before. Everything matched too perfectly. No, not just similar—it was a perfect copy.

Though he’d only been a casual player, he knew the game well enough. This place was the starting zone for all players: the Eastern Roman Empire’s capital, Constantinople. Just like Floor 1 in Sword Art Online.

Only… there were no players here. Or maybe it was precisely because there weren’t any players that he could confirm he’d truly transmigrated.

“No system, no interface, no logout button. If I die here, that’s it,” Helen muttered, covering his face with one hand. “I got into a car crash, thought I died—but I ended up here instead. And in this body…”

As his voice trailed off, he lowered his head and looked down at himself.

This body’s name was Helen—same as in his past life. A nun in the imperial capital of Constantinople, an apprentice assigned to the Church’s outpost in District 33 of the Lower City.

But that was all a lie. The truth was, Helen was a boy.

A child who had smuggled himself into the city, and, driven by hunger, used his androgynously beautiful appearance to infiltrate the Church and pass the exams to become a novice nun.

Brazen beyond belief.

He did look like an aristocratic young lady, but Father Anderson—the one in charge of District 33’s church—was no fool. As someone with supernatural abilities, he quickly saw through Helen’s disguise.

Yet he hadn’t turned him in.

The reason? The church in District 33 was chronically understaffed. Most of its clergy were elderly monks or nuns nearing retirement. Anderson figured one more youngster wouldn’t hurt.

So Anderson provided Helen with food, shelter, clothing, and safety—and in return, Helen handled the daily prayer rituals, listened to confessions and complaints from local residents, and—most importantly—served as a cover while Anderson, a notorious drunk, snuck off to steal liquor.

A mutually beneficial arrangement.

Unfortunately, two days ago, the body’s original owner had died of a heart condition, giving Helen—the transmigrator—a chance at new life.

“The current date is Magic Era 1453, January 29th. In two months, the empire’s army—while out on campaign—will walk into a goblin alliance ambush. Emperor Constantine will be captured. And the countdown to the empire’s fall will begin,” Helen said, glancing at the calendar and recalling the game’s lore. “And today… is the day the game officially launched.”

If the timeline followed the in-game plot, his cozy little job would only last another four months.

Goblins, after all, worshipped steam-powered tech. They had zero tolerance for any supernatural forces like the Church. If he was caught, someone like him—posing as a nun—would definitely be violated in the worst possible way.

“…Should I start planning my escape now?” Helen walked to the house’s only mirror. Through its cracked, mottled surface, he examined his reflection.

The figure in the mirror stood about 158cm tall, with fine brows and thin lips, long lashes curving upward, and eyes like emeralds soaked in spring water.

His soft, lovely green hair, still tousled from sleep, had a few rebellious strands clinging to his pale neck and smooth skin—giving off a strange mix of youthful innocence and barely concealed allure.

Aside from being a bit taller, his appearance resembled the saintly Cecilia from the anime Saint Cecilia and Pastor Lawrence.

Just… the grown-up version.

Green hair, emerald eyes, and an adorable face—he could probably fetch a high price at a noble’s slave auction. Easily 50 solidi gold coins.

Given exchange rates from his previous life, one solidus here was worth roughly 100,000 RMB. Solidi were the Eastern Roman Empire’s highest denomination.

Which meant… if he sold himself, he’d be set for life.

But he had no intention of serving some bloated noble slob.

He was a transmigrator, after all—of course he wanted to do something big. In his past life, he’d been just another aimless university graduate trying to find his place in the world.

“But right now, I have no supernatural powers. I’m just… an ordinary guy,” Helen muttered as he stood at the door, thinking about his next steps.

He vaguely recalled that this body wasn’t tied to any significant storylines—just a nameless NPC. But Father Anderson was a different story.

If the game’s plot hadn’t been thrown off by Helen’s arrival, then this very afternoon, Anderson would receive a visitor during prayer: a young girl named Natalie, reporting a demon sighting on her family’s farm.

Anderson, drunk as usual, wouldn’t believe her. After all, this was Constantinople—the heart of the empire. What kind of unholy creature would dare set foot here?

Assuming it was just a petty thug in disguise, he would assign the matter to some random wanderer from outside the city—i.e., a player.

That’s right. It was a quest. A hidden one, in fact.

On the surface, it looked like a low-reward task with only 100 copper coins as payment—barely worth 100 RMB. Almost no one took it.

But one rookie player did. Hoping to use the payout to buy some starting gear, they went to complete the quest—only to find not thugs, but vicious low-level demons.

If a nearby guild party hadn’t stumbled past and intervened, that player would’ve had to delete their account and start over.

And when Anderson found out demons had appeared in his parish, he panicked. If word got out, he’d be held responsible—his entire career would be over.

So, in a desperate bid to hush it up, he changed the reward to two Seeds of Supernatural Power (some said the guild players had threatened him into it).

Seeds of Supernatural Power were sacred relics—vestiges of clergy inheritance, containing the Church’s divine arts. He offered them in exchange for the players’ silence.

But players would be players. The news spread like wildfire on forums. Early access to supernatural powers? Who wouldn’t be jealous?

Word quickly reached the Church’s ears in-game. The result? The Church of District 33 was disbanded, its entire staff summoned back to the main cathedral—Hagia Sophia—for investigation.

Afterward, players dug deeper. Everyone at the church—except for Anderson—had either mysteriously died or committed suicide.

“So basically… not only is my job ending today, my life’s on a timer too?!”

Suddenly, Helen realized something terrifying.

He might really die here.

And not just die—he’d be the poor bastard found “suicided” with thirteen bullets in the back.

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T/N: i loveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee feminine men

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!