~Chapter 142~
The meeting ended.
Isaac stood with his arms crossed, staring out the window.
His cold gaze followed Priest Pedro, who walked away with a determined look on his face.
“Fool,” Isaac muttered with a mocking smile.
“If he thought for even a moment, he’d see how absurd it was.”
If the Duke of Claudius truly wanted to launder money, he would have created ghost companies from the start. That would have been much cleaner.
There was no reason to take the risk of using the Temple’s foundation.
But Pedro was a man who had spent his life caring for children in the countryside.
He was completely ignorant of how the world worked.
So where did all those noble donations to the Temple actually go?
Isaac smirked.
Into the Temple’s luxurious halls.
Into the lavish lives of the high priests.
Into the fine priest’s robes he himself was wearing.
All of that, impossible with just “pure donations.”
“Who would’ve thought that bothersome fool would become so useful?”
If Claudius’s foundation was praised now, Isaac simply had to drag its name through the mud.
Raise suspicions, stir up talk, delay things—until Claudius’s reputation collapsed.
Even if Claudius tried to deny it, the truth rarely caught up later. By then, public opinion would already be set.
And when the time was right…
“The whistleblower must be silenced.”
Blame everything on the foolish mistake of one country priest.
That way, the conflict with Claudius could be tied up neatly.
“Things are about to get busy.”
Isaac’s smile deepened—
a sly, corrupt smile unfit for a servant of the Goddess.
A few days later.
One of the yellow newspapers published an article accusing Claudius of corruption.
Normally, such gossip would have been ignored.
After all, it wasn’t a major press outlet, only known for rumors and fake news.
But this time was different.
The Claudius Foundation was soaring in popularity, and this article questioned its morality.
It was more than enough to attract attention.
[Has the Duke of Claudius Really Been Hiding a Secret Fortune?!]
Beneath the huge headline, countless sensational paragraphs followed.
And unlike the usual “anonymous informants” those tabloids quoted, this whistleblower had a real identity:
A priest of the Grand Temple.
“We cannot ignore this! Because of Claudius’s corruption, children in orphanages are starving!”
It was Pedro, shouting with veins bulging in his neck.
People were shocked.
“Good heavens, Claudius hiding secret funds?”
“I heard Pedro even provided account books as proof.”
“I thought this new foundation was finally something good…”
“This needs a quick explanation. So many people signed up for regular donations!”
From noblewomen’s parlors, to gentlemen’s clubs, to fine restaurants—
Even taverns and inns filled with commoners—
Everywhere buzzed with this scandal.
But the Temple itself—the one that should have responded most strongly—remained cautious.
**[We are investigating whether the Duke of Claudius laundered money through the Temple’s orphanage foundation.
As for the materials presented by Priest Pedro, we cannot yet confirm their authenticity.
Please wait a little longer.]**
That was their official stance, stripped of politeness: vague, noncommittal.
Meanwhile, Pedro was suddenly the center of public attention.
Journalists hounded him relentlessly.
But what truly weighed on his heart was something else.
“Father Pedro, your evidence seems a little weak. Don’t you have anything more solid?”
“Weak…?”
Pedro blinked, stunned.
“With only these papers, there’s no definite proof of corruption.”
“Did you verify the donations across multiple orphanages? Was there any cross-checking?”
“I… we can discuss that later.”
Flustered, Pedro hurried away, practically fleeing.
“Father Pedro! Please wait!”
“Just one more question—!”
After escaping the reporters, Pedro slumped against the floor of his room, gasping for breath.
“But all that evidence came from Chief Priest Evans himself…”
His face clouded with confusion.
“And yet… they say it’s not solid proof?”
The truth was—he had never carefully examined the documents himself.
Because…
“These are the evidence documents?”
Pedro had looked doubtfully at the papers Isaac showed him.
They seemed too thin, not convincing enough for proof of corruption.
“Well, the Chief Priest must know what he’s doing.”
Trusting that thought, Pedro reached out.
“May I look through them myself?”
But—
Smack!
Isaac slapped his hand away.
“You don’t need to check them. I already reviewed everything.”
“Eh? But still…”
“Don’t waste time on such trifles. Focus on the bigger mission.”
Pedro frowned, still uneasy.
This accusation carried his name. Surely he should review it?
He opened his mouth to insist again—
“Father Pedro.”
Isaac’s voice came soft as silk.
But his smiling eyes held no kindness.
“Don’t you want the children to eat well, sleep warm, and live happily?”
“…Yes.”
As head of the Temple’s foundation, Isaac’s words carried weight Pedro couldn’t resist.
Isaac soothed him further.
“Don’t worry. These are only part of the documents. The Temple will provide more later.”
“Ah… I see.”
“Of course. We won’t let you carry this burden alone.”
Isaac patted his shoulder encouragingly.
“Your courage will inspire other witnesses to step forward too.”
“…Chief Priest Evans.”
“I’ve always wanted to expose this injustice. But with so many in need relying on us, it was hard to act…”
Isaac smiled warmly.
“Go ahead and do what you feel is right.”
His hand pressed firmly on Pedro’s shoulder.
“Your bravery and sacrifice will never be forgotten by the Temple.”
