<h4>Chapter 148: Volunteering on the Golden Week (6)</h4>


    Dolores Rune Quovadis, Saint of the Faithful Quovadis.


    She hadn''t always liked Vikir.


    Or rather, she was more of a hater.


    Ever since she''d first met him at the Academy, she''d had an unttering image of him.


    -''Vikir. ss B. What did you do to earn so many demerits already?''


    -''....''


    -''You know that umting too many demerits, even if they''re attitude points, will hurt your grades. Sometimes you''ll have to miss lectures and domunity service. Do you understand?''


    -''I understand.''


    -''... Let''s see.''


    Azy junior with a pile of demerits for being a freshman.


    He didn''t even show any embarrassment or guilt when he was called out for his bad behavior, such as beingte or entering restricted areas.


    Not only was hezy and shameless, but he was also arrogant.


    Even Vikir, as soon as he entered the newsroom, didn''t hesitate to say something sour about the Night Hound.


    ''He''s a viin, that''s for sure.''


    When Dolores heard Vikir speak ill of the Night Hound, she felt something stir inside her.


    Who was he to judge him so presumptuously?


    How dare he judge him, a freshman college student with a full stomach and a roof over his head, azy, delinquent life in a cradle like this?


    Dolores thought of the Night Hound.


    Sure, he was now a suspect in the terrorist attack on Quovadis''s branch, but Dolores firmly believed in her heart that he was not a bad person.


    The memories of treating the poor with him when the gue known as the Red Death ravaged the slums of St. Ma were still fresh in her mind.


    ''How could I call him a wicked man when I saw the way he never stopped treating his patients, even when he was covered in their own feces?''


    The holy spirit of sacrifice that the Night Hound disyed then was certainly not something that could be mimicked by acting.


    For indeed, his soul was rough and scarred, but it nevertheless radiated an aura of purity beyond that of any of the priests.


    Who the Night Hound was, and where he came from, Dolores did not know.


    But she could guess that he had walked through countless thorny paths in his life, and the good that had blossomed out of those wounds was holy and noble, she thought.


    To be vilified, oppressed, persecuted, and yet persist in doing good and making sacrifices. A martyr.


    That''s how Dolores characterized the Night Hound.


    That''s why she didn''t like people who criticized martyrs.


    She didn''t like people who spoke ill of martyrs, because she knew how much of a burden they put on the shoulders of those who walked the thorny path, hiding in their safe andfortable ces, with words spoken without thought.


    ...Is that why?


    Dolores could never harbor good feelings for Vikir.


    The first time Vikir covered her mouth and pushed her up against the wall, she was dumbfounded.


    Butter, when she saw Guilty pass by in the hallway, she was furious.


    She was a saint of the Quovadis, and Guilty was a lowly cleric, a mere member of her family.


    There was no reason for Dolores to be intimidated by status.


    ''I mean, even if you''re forced to insult a saint, you can still repent by paying an offering.''


    Guilty had even said some insulting things about Dolores.


    This made Dolores even more angry at Vikir.


    If it weren''t for Vikir, he would have stormed out of the room and punished Quilty.


    Dolores then walked away, angry at Vikir.


    And exactly a few secondster.


    She regretted her anger.


    As with any good person, time passes and the anger subsides and you see your mistakes.


    Dolores thought back to the situation earlier.


    Vikir had obviously been acting in good faith, covering up for him to avoid an ufortable situation.


    And to be honest, Dolores felt ufortable, even a little scared, to see Guilty.


    You might be thinking, why be afraid of an inferior, but Guilty wasn''t just an inferior.


    Sometimes in life, there are people who are clearly beneath you, but they don''t feel like beneath you.


    For Dolores, that was Guilty.


    His smirking, brash, andid-back demeanor at any given moment made Dolores feel ufortable.


    She was also well aware that Guilty''s absolute confidence came from money, especially the enormous offerings he made to the higher-ups.


    As the patriarch of House Indulgentia, Guilty used the money she earned from selling indulgences to pay bribes in the guise of offerings, and she had built up an impressivework of connections and power.


    With his wealth and connections, it''s clear that Guilty is a man not to be trifled with, not even by the saintly Dolores of Quovadis Family.


    So when he openly insulted her sexually, she had no recourse other than to get angry.


    And this conflict within the Quovadis was already known to the world through newspaper reports.


    Under these circumstances, it''s hard to me Vikir for trying to be considerate.


    ''...No, you should be grateful.''


    Dolores had to admit to herself.


    If she had run into Guilty in the hallway earlier, she might have lost control of her expression and made a mistake.


    And he had Vikir to thank for preventing that from happening.


    ...What''s more.


    ''It''s suffocating.''


    Vikir frowned, obviously looking at Guilty.


    It''s clear from this that Vikir doesn''t like the idea of Guilty selling indulgences either.


    Dolores agreed with Vikir on that point, which made her feel slightly better about his image.


    ''Still, it''s not like he''s going to shove a girl he doesn''t know up against a wall, and it''s not like we''re having some kind of... thing going on.''


    For someone who had never been with a man before, being pushed up against a wall in his arms was definitely a powerful memory.


    Honestly, it still makes her heart skip a beat when she thinks about it,


    ''You really freaked me out.''


    Dolores rubbed her hands together, feeling her face grow slightly hot.


    "Maybe... is actually a good guy, except for beingzy."


    In Dolores'' mind, Vikir''s rating rose ever so slightly.


    It was quite an unusual and generous assessment for a woman who usually held to a puritanical ethic, a belief that sincerity was good.


    A little more time passed.


    Dolores sought out Vikir to apologize for what had happened in the hallway.


    ...?


    Even after half a day of walking around the entire building, it wasn''t easy to find Vikir.


    When it was time for recess, I asked some first year students who were taking a break.


    "Eh? Vikir? He was cleaning the toilets with us a while ago. He went to the cafeteria to help out because they were short-staffed, and he volunteered to go first when the person who lost the game of rock-paper-scissors asked him to go."


    Tudor, who was standing in the restroom, replied cheerfully.


    From the restroom, Dolores headed to the dining room.


    There, Sancho, who was eating with the kids in the dining room, testified.


    "Aah, Vikir? He was just handing out meals to me and the kids a few minutes ago, and then he heard that there was no hot water in the dining room, so he went to check the plumbing. Dude, you can''t even eat your meal because you were handing out meals...."


    Dolores went from the restroom to the plumbing room in the dining room.


    There, a water-soaked Piggy pointed his finger at the building in front of him.


    "Oops, boss, good lunch, you''re looking for Vikir, he must have gone to theundry room by now, because he just fixed the plumbing so I can wash my clothes!"


    Dolores went from the restroom to the dining room to the plumbing room to theundry room.


    There, Sinir, who was washing clothes, saluted him cheerfully.


    "Senior Dolores, hi! What''s up, Vikir? He was doingundry with me earlier, but the kids wanted to y, so I dragged him to the yroom! They''re so energetic! What? I''m a girl, so why do I call Vikir hyung? Isn''t that right? He told me not to call him oppa, so I called him hyung and he didn''t mind, ahaha!"


    Dolores went from the bathroom to the dining room to the plumbing room to theundry room to the yroom.


    There he found Bianca, who was giving the children rides with a troubled look on her face.


    "Who''s that, Vikir, haha... He was just giving me and the kids a horseback ride a few minutes ago and then the kids said they wanted to go out to the yground, so he went to do some maintenance on the yground, but I guess I''ll live with him taking the kids, they''re so fit... They never get tired...."


    Dolores had to run from the bathroom to the dining room to the plumbing room to theundry room to the yroom to the yground.


    On the way out to the yground, Dolores thought to herself


    ''I mean, how much work does he do in a day?''


    From what he had seen so far, Vikir was doing the work of a dozen people.


    Cleaning toilets, ministering in the dining hall, fixing plumbing, doingundry, ying with the kids, and maintaining the yground.


    Each one was incredibly demanding and arduous, and how many had he already aplished in the morning?


    The average academy student is barely able to help because they don''t have the hair to do the dirty work.


    I mean, when do fine people ever get to do this kind of grunt work?


    But Vikir was doing it all on his own, in the shadows, where no one would recognize him, without even a hint of a sulk.


    (Of course, Vikir had done all of these odd jobs in the army before he regressed, so he''s pretty good at them, and now he''s on an intelligence hunt, so there''s no way Dolores can tell that he''s deliberately shooting around and gathering information under the guise of work.)


    But she thought to herself.


    ''I was wrong all along, and I was wrong for a long time. She''s an incredibly sincere person....''


    To think that she''d thought of him aszy and neglectful all this time.


    Dolores felt ashamed of her prejudices and wanted to crawl into a rat hole.


    She thought she had treated everyone without discrimination and without prejudice, but here she was, looking at her junior, a neer to the club, with such prejudice.


    Dolorespletely reevaluated Vikir and decided that she owed him an apology for all of this.


    And then.


    Dolores went out to the yground where Vikir was.


    Across the field, he could see kids kicking balls and runningps.


    And there was Vikir, sitting a few feet away.


    Vikir was digging up weeds and boulders and ttening the area so that the children could use the yground.


    Mumbling...


    All the while, he''s pulling papers out of his pocket and reading them.


    ''He seems to be studying.''


    Dolores was genuinely impressed.


    He works so hard for the children, and yet he doesn''t neglect his studies.


    This is the epitome of a true student.


    ''... Did he study well?''


    Dolores didn''t know Vikir''s grades.


    She''d see how Vikir did on his written exams when she went back to schoolter.


    ''Maybe I can tutor him if I have time.''


    Dolores was confident that she would be able to help Vikir, as she had never been outside the top three in her ss in third-grade writing.


    As he thought this over, Dolores walked up behind Vikir and coughed.


    "Hmph!"


    Dolores tries to apologize, but the words don''te out right.


    Dolores was usually quick to apologize for her mistakes, but for some reason, it was difficult for Vikir.


    Perhaps it was the memory of Vikir cursing about the Night Hounds.


    ''That''s just an excuse, I was wrong, and I should apologize straight away.''


    Dolores coughed in vain once more.


    "Hmph! Hmph!"


    He coughed in vain, as if trying to get attention.


    Only then did Vikir turn his head.


    "...?"


    As soon as Vikir saw Dolores, he shoved the papers he''d been reading into his arms.


    Dolores opened her mouth in an awkward tone.


    "Studying for a writing test? You''re studying all the way through a volunteer job? ... Hmm, you''re surprisingly diligent."


    "What is it?"


    Vikir''s tone was hard. He was obviously upset about yesterday''s incident.


    Dolores stuttered slightly.


    "Uhhhh, um, I was just, uh, wondering. I was wondering how your volunteer work is going. I asked some of your friends, and it seems like you''re working pretty hard. Is it worth it?"


    "Yeah."


    "...."


    "...."


    "...Ah, is that it, answer?"


    "Yeah."


    "...Okay."


    Dolores panicked, not knowing how to continue the conversation.


    ''Was conversation supposed to be this hard?''


    All of the people she''d met so far had always spoken to her without her having to initiate the conversation, and the answers had alwayse naturally.


    Before she could even ask a question, she''d have a long list of things she wanted to know, and things she didn''t want to know.


    But Vikir was different.


    He doesn''t say anything unless it''s necessary.


    Even if the other person is the third-year student council president and a saint of one of the seven great houses of the Empire.


    Eventually, Dolores decided toe clean.


    "..., actually. I''m here to talk to you about what happened yesterday."


    "...?"


    Vikir''s brow furrowed slightly.


    Apparently, the memory of yesterday was very ufortable.


    Dolores closed her eyes tightly and decided to be honest.


    "Well, it''s just that we have a bit of a family history... and I think I overreacted to you yesterday, but I''m sure you were just trying to help me, and what I did yesterday when I yelled at you was really...."


    But.


    She couldn''t finish her apology.


    ...Pot!


    Vikir jumped out of her seat and ran off somewhere.


    "I''m sorry... huh?"


    Dolores looked up.


    No, forgiveness can''t be forced, but still, it''s a bit much for someone to apologize so sincerely and then just walk away....


    Dolores looked up, embarrassed, ashamed, and disappointed.


    What?


    "What!"


    Dolores''s eyes widened.


    The direction Vikir was running was toward the sewers where the children were clustered.


    It was too deep and dirty for them to go near.


    Some of the children were already peering dangerously into the sewers.


    Dolores quickly ran towards the sewer.


    As she approached, she saw that Nymphet was crying.


    ''Oh, the ball....''


    The ball they were ying with had fallen into the sewer.


    She knew that because of theck of supplies, the children were using the same old ball over and over again.


    She would often buy a new ball for them every time she visited, but with so many children ying with it, it would quickly be worn out and burst.


    How heartbroken would the children be to have their new balls go down the sewer?


    ...When Dolores is thinking.


    "It''s deep. Get out of the way."


    Vikir''s short warning followed.


    "?"


    Dolores turned her head with a puzzled expression.


    ...st!


    Vikir leaped into the sewers. Without a moment''s hesitation.


    ... Puff, puff, puff, puff!


    In the disgusting wastewater, Vikir moved like a swimmer, eventually retrieving the ball that the children had dropped.


    Yuck!


    As Vikir climbs out of the sewer, he is approached by a group of frightened children.


    "Don''t y near the sewer, it''s dangerous. I''ve smoothed out the yground over there, so you can y there and... the ball is dirty, so I''ll wash it and give it back to you."


    Vikir said nonchntly, dripping with filth.


    And.


    "...."


    Dolores looked at Vikir''s broad back, covered in dirt, and suddenly felt her whole body heat up.


    ''What, what, why?''


    His cheeks grew so hot that he had to bring a cold palm to them.


    It was a truly strange and strange feeling that even I could not guess its identity.


    –


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    note: i forget this, oppa is only used by girls, while hyung is only used by boys, in previous chapter I trante it as brother