Click-clack.

The sound of heels echoed—an odd match for the nun’s habit—as the saint entered. Without hesitation, she sat on the sofa as if it were her designated spot. It was the seat reserved for guests.

Watching her settle in so casually, Eight discreetly activated the emergency summoning protocol on his wristwatch.

“Oh, you shouldn’t do that.”

The moment the saint spoke, Eight felt something grip him, freezing him in place. Though invisible and intangible, he could sense an unseen force enveloping him.

Telekinesis? Eight wondered. He had never heard of the saint possessing such an ability, let alone one capable of interfering with radio signals. This was likely something far beyond ordinary telekinesis…

“...What is this? More importantly, how did you get in here?”
“It’s not polite to speak so informally. Aren’t you an intellectual? Let’s be civil with each other.”
“And yet here you are, sneaking into my lab…”
“And you, sneaking into my chapel?”
“Let’s call it even?”

As the saint nodded in agreement, Eight forced himself to calm down. He wasn’t alone here, and the longer he stalled, the more advantageous the situation became for him. After all, this was the headquarters of an evil organization. If other executives happened to stumble in and notice her, he wouldn’t even need to summon them—they’d deal with her immediately.

And if enough executives gathered, they could subdue the saint and figure out her motives afterward.

“…Alright, Ms. Saint—or should I say, Ms. Lizebel.”
“Oh my, when did you learn my name? I don’t even know yours.”
“It’s Eight. But how did you find me without even knowing my name?”

Eight posed the question that had been bothering him the most. How had she detected his presence, and how had she managed to reach this place undetected?

Lizebel smiled brightly in response.

“By bus?”
“This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“Hmm… but I’m not joking. What’s the best way to explain it? I guess you could say I got lucky?”

The saint tilted her head, seemingly lost in thought, before exclaiming as if a light bulb had gone off.

“Let’s say there’s a lottery that absolutely no one can win.”
“…Excuse me? What does that have to do with—”
“Just hear me out. Imagine a lottery so improbable that even if humanity spent its entire existence buying tickets, no one would ever win. But does that mean it’s truly unwinnable?”
“It’s not. Someone would win eventually.”

No matter how astronomically low the odds, probability always dictated that it would happen someday. If a monkey typed randomly on a keyboard for eternity, it would eventually write Shakespeare’s plays.

“Well, that’s exactly how I got here!”
“That… makes no sense. Are you saying you succeeded because it was theoretically possible? That sounds like—”
“Like what?”
“…Like you can manipulate those odds.”
“Exactly. I can.”

The saint nonchalantly revealed her ability, showing no hint of fear or concern. And why would she? Eight had seen firsthand what someone with such power could accomplish.

This was the same power that had allowed her to become the ruler of an entire city without directly influencing the world herself. What if someone with fewer restraints wielded such power? The possibilities were terrifying.

Yet Eight remained skeptical.

Manipulating probabilities?

That didn’t add up. After their confrontation with the divine spirits, Evilus Corporation and the city had put measures in place to block any artificial probability manipulation, even against beings with transcendent abilities.

All of that should still be in effect.

Moreover, the unseen force restraining him was perplexing. Was this just a matter of her manipulating the odds of his muscles seizing and his watch malfunctioning at the same time?

There was no way the saint’s abilities surpassed those of a divine spirit. Eight became certain that her power wasn’t merely probability manipulation.

“…So, why would someone so impressive come all the way here?”
“I was curious about the people trying to kill me.”
“Excuse me? Kill you? What are you talking about…”
“You and your colleague sneaked into my chapel to assassinate me, didn’t you?”
“That? We just cut the line because we didn’t want to wait.”

The saint blinked in confusion, staring at Eight. Eight stared back, his expression as blank as hers.

After a moment of awkward silence, the saint spoke hesitantly.

“…Really?”
“…Yes.”

The lab fell into a heavy quiet. Eight only felt the unseen force release him when the saint broke the silence with an apology.

“I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding! I’ll come back properly next time! Officially!”

Bowing repeatedly, the saint apologized as she carefully exited the lab. Watching her leave, Eight debated whether to call for the full assembly of the organization but ultimately let her go.

After all, her ability made it clear she couldn’t be stopped even if they tried. Indeed, the saint left the lab and the building without encountering any resistance.

“She’s gone~.”
“Yes. It seems so.”

After her departure, Six, who had been standing guard beside Eight, finally spoke. It was surprising she hadn’t leaped at the saint, given her earlier talk about killing her.

Yet, instead of showing any regret or aggression, Six looked entirely nonchalant as she watched the bus carrying the saint disappear into the distance.

“You were talking about killing her?”
“Hmm… It felt like something was stopping me when I thought about it~.”
“You too?”
“Wait, you mean you as well?”
“Yes. For me, it felt like invisible hands holding me back.”

As the two shared their experiences, Eight began analyzing the saint’s abilities. Seeing what cannot be seen, touching what cannot be touched, and accomplishing what should be impossible…

The first possibility that came to mind was a reversal of concepts, the kind of ability you’d only find in a comic book. Something that allowed her to make what she couldn’t do possible.

But the idea didn’t fully explain her actions. It accounted for her abilities but not for her influence—the vast congregation of followers she had amassed.

The followers didn’t change overnight. They witnessed miracles, inspiring their belief in the saint and her faith.

This wasn’t something achievable through concept reversal alone. If she could brainwash millions of people, there was no reason she wouldn’t have done so on an even grander scale.

The fact that she hadn’t taken over humanity proved her limits. Yet she clearly wasn’t disinterested in leadership, given her active role in the church.

What could it be? An ability that manipulates probabilities and wields powers like telekinesis…

After pondering for a long time, Eight sighed.

It was complicated, but not impossible.

Especially if her power stemmed from a being that could observe this world from above…

“Honestly! Why didn’t You warn me about this!”

Pouting, the saint puffed her cheeks in protest. It was her way of expressing frustration to the deity she served. But her god merely wagged its tail in response, offering no explanation.

Even after years of observing her god, the saint couldn’t decipher its gestures. Understandably so—it had never displayed such a reaction before.

Unbeknownst to the saint, the tail’s wag signified the deity’s unique ability: to view this world’s past, present, and future simultaneously. It was this power that had enabled her to infiltrate the Evilus headquarters undetected.

“Hmm? Don’t go back there again? Why not?”
“…Just because? No, I want a proper explanation—”
“Are you sulking? Fine, I won’t go again!”

But in the future it foresaw,
Eight no longer existed.

That fact chilled it to its core.