Volume 16, Prologue: The Standing of a Leader. Stage_in_Roma.

Volume 16, Prologue: The Standing of a Leader. Stage_in_Roma.

The Roman Pope had a certain vivid memory.

It was from a visit to London for a meeting with the Anglican Church.

He had met with Laura Stuart, the woman of unknown age who stood at the top of the Anglican Church which was one of the three great Catholic denominations. That woman did indeed possess the skill needed to rule such a large organization. After all, she could use her words so skillfully that she not only hid her true intentions but she also created a situation where everything was already set in stone by the time anyone noticed the hidden meaning and direction of the discussion. If one let their guard down even slightly, they could end up agreeing to any sort of treaty. The three Roman Catholic secretaries who had accompanied him had been unable to put up with the tension and had been carried to the medical room partway through the meeting.

But that was not what stood out most vividly in the Roman Pope’s memory.

That honor fell to what had happened thirty minutes after the meeting came to an end.

It had occurred at Lambeth Palace which was located near St. George’s Cathedral. While the Roman Pope’s luxury car had passed by that residence of the Anglican archbishop, it had been stopped at a red light. In that time, he had heard voices from the palace through an open window.

“It’s only the beginning of September, so why do we already have so many of these Christmas cards?”

“Receiving them on Christmas is too late. They have sent them now because they are aware of our situation. It is a lot of hard work looking through all 250 thousand Christmas cards that arrive from all over England every year.”

“You make it sound like it has nothing to do with you, Kanzaki.”

“Whatever are you talking about? More importantly, your December schedule has been set, archbishop. Given the season, you will be going around to 43 orphanages and welfare facilities while dressed as Santa. This is official business, so please be understanding.”

“Very good. I have already acquired a bewitching miniskirt Santa costume that’s sure to cause some nosebleeds.”

“!!!??? How can you say that after nodding and saying ‘very good’ so seriously!?”

“To be honest, I’m so very, very embarrassed, but I have no choice but to help out those pious Anglican believers.”

“You don’t need to help them with a strip show, you pervert!!”

“What!? Don’t tell me miniskirt Santas are so horribly out of fashion that they are considered perverted!”

“No, um, the problem is much more basic than that. The archbishop of the Anglican Church cannot choose an outfit that shows off as much of her legs as a miniskirt.”

“Hmph. So you don’t like the miniskirt, is that it? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a true fan service provider thinks differently. This is Kanzaki Kaori, the girl who went out of her way to truly show off her body to the Imagine Breaker boy in Japanese-style ‘debt repayment’. You truly are always standing on the front lines of exhibitionism.”

“Shut up, you amateur!!”

“!?”

“I was trying to keep quiet, but you just won’t shut up!! And if you hadn’t used that strange ‘collar’ spell on that girl, I never would have made that strange debt in the first place and Tsuchimikado wouldn’t be able to make fun of me for not being able to pay it back!!”

“K-Kanzaki? Kanzaki-saaaan? Um, uh, is it just me or has your tone been a bit off for a while now?”

“I don’t want to hear anything about how I speak from someone who adds in Japanese honorifics for no reason!!”

“!? N-now that I cannot overlook. O-okay, it’s time to scold you. ...Stop it, Kanzaki!! You should not speak to the head of the Anglican Church like that!”

“Quiet down, amateur. I already made up my mind. From the moment that pervert Tsuchimikado laughed at me at that beachside inn, I knew it all led back to you. I knew I would never have had a debt to repay if it wasn’t for you and I decided to cast aside all respect I had for yoooooooouuuuuuuuu!!”

“E-eeee!? Stiyl! Stiiiiiyl!!”

Oddly light sounds of destruction and screams tinged with enjoyment had come from Lambeth Palace.

That conversation had utterly failed as far as courtesy was concerned and it was unthinkable given the status and rank of those involved. Also, Lambeth Palace was one of the most secret of holy areas, so it was a problem simply to have the voices of the magicians inside heard outside. A housewife with her child walking nearby had initially looked surprised at the voices but had quickly begun chuckling as she walked by.

It had all been completely baffling.

But it had produced nothing but smiles.

Age differences, the hierarchy of power, the authority and dignity of belief, and everything else had all been stripped away, leaving behind only a perfectly equal world.

The Roman Pope had stared blankly at the scene while sitting in the back seat of his black luxury car and protected by countless bodyguards.

That did not seem like the same woman who had so easily handled the world-influencing meeting in St. George’s Cathedral. But at the same time, her actions here had not been overwhelmingly removed from the teachings of Christianity. Their father who watched over all his believers had said the following: love your neighbor, all mankind are brothers, and all are equal before the lord. Was this scene not a perfect example of that?

That was something that grew more difficult with age and social status.

It did not simply mean to approach one’s superiors as equals. Nor did it simply mean to treat your subordinates in a way that would not anger them. Laura Stuart would fight with anyone, insult them, go on a rampage, and occasionally speak in a slightly tearful voice. But it always ultimately resulted in laughter.

The Roman Pope had been extremely jealous of that slight early afternoon commotion.

That was the archbishop of the Anglican Church.

Ten years ago, twenty years ago, and the first time the Roman Pope had visited England, that woman of unknown age had always been smiling in that same way.

She was with everyone and a part of everyone.

The Roman Pope was overcome by those feelings as he walked through the streets of the current Italian capital of Rome.

He was on his way back from a short speech at the Basilica of Sant'Agostino. The path back to the Vatican was about 1.5 kilometers. When working within Rome, he made sure to travel by foot rather than having someone drive him. This was partially for his health and partially because he enjoyed breathing the air of Rome, but mostly because he wanted as many points of contact with the city’s people as possible.

As he passed by sightseers, they would tense up in shock and forget to use their cameras. He could see a devout middle-aged woman praying in a building window.

But...

“This is far from a desirable situation,” whispered the secretary next to the pope such that only the pope could hear.

He was officially known as a secretary, but he was actually a bodyguard skilled in martial arts. The title of secretary allowed him to remain by the Roman Pope’s side even in places where military might was not allowed.

“Traveling by foot is simply too risky,” continued the secretary. “A few bodyguards are posted around you, but it is far from perfect. You should use a convoy of spell-protected vehicles when travelling.”

“I know.”

“If you are trying to show that Christianity is equal to all, there are plenty of other effective methods. Making appropriate donations and then visiting orphanages and medical facilities would work well to increase public opinion of-...”

“I said I know.”

With his good mood ruined, the Roman Pope repeated himself with a bit of harshness in his tone.

The secretary fell silent.

The Roman Pope let out a heavy sigh. No matter how much he hoped for equality, he did not think he was succeeding. The passersby and tourists were only looking at him in surprise and respect. He did not at all feel like he was a part of them like Laura Stuart had been that one time.

Suddenly, a filthy ball rolled out of a narrow alleyway.

It was about thirty centimeters in diameter. The cheap children’s ball was made of a shiny material that might have been plastic or rubber.

Without thinking, he crouched down to pick up the ball, but the secretary’s hand stopped him. He stopped moving and a child ran out of the alleyway in pursuit of the ball. She may have been a street child which were rare in this area. She looked about ten and her clothes were even dirtier than the ball.

The Roman Pope shook off the secretary’s hand and moved to pick up the ball.

But a sharp voice cut him off.

“Stop.”

He looked over and saw it was the girl.

“Who knows how much trouble you’d get in if you got those fancy clothes dirty.”

The cold ring of her voice stopped the Roman Pope as if he had been struck by lightning. Meanwhile, the girl collected the ball, slowly moved away as if afraid he was a street thug, and then ran back into the narrow alleyway.

“...”

The Roman Pope could only stare blankly at the alley entrance.

Love your neighbor, all mankind are brothers, and all are equal before the lord.

Those words filled his mind and he clenched his teeth harder and harder.

“This is a problem,” he muttered without thinking.

The secretary immediately agreed.

“Yes. How could she be so rude to the man who singlehandedly rules two billion believers? That is simply unacceptable. And in our headquarters of Italy no less. If she claims to be a believer, she should at least show the bare minimum of manners.”

“...”

The Roman Pope sighed again as the secretary showed his complete lack of understanding.

When had it gotten like this?

He no longer felt anything but a strange sense of distance and a chill.