The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 343: Although I Smoke

"Talk. What did you co to see for?"

The Saintess crossed her bare white thighs, deftly clamped the cigar, and asked:

"Don’t tell it’s to make go borrow the Eye of All-Knowledge from His Majesty again—so you can use it to find so student you ‘accidentally lost.’ That kind of stupidity."

"Nonsense. Do I look like the kind of scum who only shows up when I want sothing?"

The Pink Bear rubbed his paws and chuckled:

"Can’t I co just to see you?"

"Oh? Since when did you grow a conscience?"

Lowering her eyes, the Saintess shot the Pink Bear a cold glance.

"You weren’t saying that two days ago when you ca looking for ."

"Ahem, ahem—two days ago was a special circumstance. Look, the crisis is temporarily resolved—no, that’s not right, only half resolved—but didn’t I co see you right away?"

Forcing out a fawning smile, the Pink Bear thumped his chest:

"This right here represents my sincere, heartfelt devotion!"

"Heh. ‘Devotion’? And you co empty-handed?"

"Empty-handed, my ass!"

The Pink Bear straightened his back and declared with weight:

"What could be more valuable than my friendship?"

"Heh. More than ten years later and you’re still this shaless."

Wearing the expression one reserves for human garbage, the Saintess lazily propped her chin and blew a smoke ring into the Pink Bear’s face, then chuckled:

"In that case, did you notice anything?"

"You..."

The Pink Bear suddenly quieted. Looking at the Saintess—worshiped by countless people—he said softly:

"You seem... a bit different from before."

"Different?"

The Saintess’ slender brows arched like willow leaves. Her fingers idly twined a lock of hair.

"Do I?"

"You do, you do. I almost didn’t recognize you."

He nodded vigorously, his gaze tracing from the Saintess’ delicate fingers onward.

Pale-gold hair spilled down in a faint glow; mysterious patterns flowed along her skin—the so-called Goddess’ marks in the mouths of countless believers. The unusual grandeur across her chest seed to testify to a heart just as broad.

Her posture no longer had the elegant restraint of old—less ‘Saintess,’ more like a lady thug—but even so, it couldn’t hide that perfect face and sacred aura.

Except...

"I rember your hair wasn’t this color before."

The Pink Bear’s voice turned low and hoarse:

"Don’t tell the Saint Light of the Life Church actually corrodes—made you..."

"Hm? Oh... you an this."

The Saintess casually lifted a strand of pale-gold hair to her eyes.

"I dyed it."

"Dyed? Are there side effects to dyeing? Or... wait, what did you say?"

The Pink Bear’s ursine face froze. His pitch jumped several octaves.

"You said you dyed your hair?!"

"Yep. I thought my old color was too plain, so I dyed it like this. Pretty?"

Like showing off, she flicked her sun-spilling pale-gold hair.

"Not only that—so it would really catch the eye, I specially dusted it with fluorescent powder."

"Fluorescent powder?! Not Saint Light?" The Pink Bear gaped, eyes about to pop.

"Of course not."

The Saintess gave him a look like he was an idiot, and showed her palm sprinkled with glinting specks. "Who keeps shining Saint Light twenty-four hours a day? I’d die of exhaustion. I just leak a little aura so people can’t tell the difference, that’s all."

"Y-you-you-you..."

The Pink Bear’s eyes bulged. Suddenly, a shiver ran through him; his gaze dropped to the mysterious patterns on her skin.

"Wait—if the hair’s dyed, then those legendary Goddess’ marks..."

"Tattooed."

"Tat—"

He nearly bit his tongue.

Many believers followed this Saintess fanatically because she bore ‘innate holy marks’—said to be the Goddess’ imprint, proof of divine favor.

He had always known those patterns weren’t natural, but he hadn’t expected...

"Then that... second-developnt chest of yours—"

"Obviously padded. The busts of past Saintesses were all pretty big. If I didn’t size up a bit, I’d feel out of place.

Besides, I’m already in the auntie bracket. How could I have a second growth spurt?"

Her fingers skimd across her ‘magnificent’ chest as she tossed the Pink Bear a flirtatious wink:

"Sanctuary Foundry premium custom. Even a grope attack won’t expose it. The handfeel is absolutely real. So... want a squeeze?"

"..."

For a mont, in the suddenly silent confessional, the Pink Bear’s mouth opened and closed like a fish dying on shore, utterly speechless.

Dye, tattoo, pad—the words spun like a kaleidoscope in his mind.

He glanced at the compassionate Goddess statue and felt a chill jitter through him.

What the hell has happened to this world? Is there no hope?

Even the Saintess can be... augnted?!

"Y-you’re deceiving the faithful!" he protested on behalf of countless believers, pounding his chest.

"Deceiving the faithful? Am I?"

The Saintess looked at him with a smile that wasn’t a smile, her gaze suddenly aningful:

"Given how in-depth your ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) understanding is in this area, you should know very well—my reputation ranks among the better ones of all Saintesses."

"..."

He had no rebuttal.

Because she was right.

Her Holiness’ reputation was indeed excessively good.

"So. Do you get it now?"

Crossing the other leg, the Saintess drew a long, satisfied pull on the cigar.

"Although I smoke, scorch my hair, and wear tattoos—I’m still a hell of a good Saintess."

"..."

"However... if you couldn’t even see through those, Oranriel, your eye is as awful as ever." The Saintess’ smile cooled.

"Ha... I thought being a Saintess was like a teenager transferring to a new school and wanting a fresh look."

The Pink Bear’s mouth twitched; he forced a weak smile.

"I stopped being a teenager long ago. Twenty years back—when the Saintess before last threw away her duties to chase ‘true love,’ when the last Saintess died in an accident two months after succession, and I was shoved onto the throne to fill the gap—I stopped."

The Saintess took one last drag, crushed the cigar out on the chair, and stood.

"If you ca just for this nonsense, I won’t keep you company. Unlike you, I don’t have ti to waste."

"W-wait—I have one more question."

"Speak."

"Since..."

Shrouded in curling smoke, the Pink Bear lowered his head, hiding his clownish face in shadow, and asked softly:

"You’re a remarkable, exemplary Saintess. Then why, at this exact juncture, start this ritual to choose a successor?"

"Hmm..."

The Saintess stroked her chin and smiled.

"Perhaps I want to imitate the Saintess before last—and be willful for once?"

"Lie."

The Pink Bear’s head snapped up. "If you were truly willful, you wouldn’t... wouldn’t have gone this far."

"True... the willful don’t play the good girl."

Her smile vanished. Her eyes darkened as she fixed them on him.

"So... are you sure you want to tell the truth? That reason."

"..."

The reason...

All levity and clowning fell away. The Pink Bear lifted a paw, as if to touch the woman right before him.

If he touched her, he could know everything.

But... in the end.

That paw—not even worthy of being called a hand—hovered in the air for a heartbeat, then fell, limp.

"Hehe. You really are a coward, uncle."

The old form of address dazed him for a mont. When he ca back to himself, the Saintess before him was smiling again.

A perfect smile.

She turned and left.

Saint Light washed over her, scrubbing away every speck of gri. Hands folded at her lower abdon, back straight—she beca once more the Saintess worshiped by all.

"Ah, right."

The Saintess suddenly looked back.

"I know you want to ask sothing else. But as for the Lost Land, Canterville—that’s entirely under His Majesty’s jurisdiction. I can’t interfere.

What I can promise is this: in this matter, everyone stands at the sa starting line. That includes those few children under . Understand?"

Without waiting for the Pink Bear’s reply, she stepped into the light outside, leaving him alone in the dark.

...

"Coward?"

Inside the confessional, a hairy hand reached out of the Pink Bear’s mouth, pinching a cheap hand-roll that would burn out in barely a dozen seconds.

"If only I really were a coward. Then I could go find so big-chested woman and cry my heart out."

Locking eyes with the compassionate Goddess statue, the Pink Bear flicked ash and scratched his ass with zero reverence.

"Too bad there aren’t any cowards here—just one ridiculously cute little Pink Bear, that’s all."