Morning.
At Kyle's home.
Lancy placed the prepared breakfast on the table one item at a time.
There was toast, grilled pork sausages, grilled mushrooms, yogurt, honey, and fresh, warm milk.
Sifa smiled and said to Lancy, who was standing beside him, "Ma'am, sit down and eat with us too."
Lancy smiled, nodded, and sat down.
Reg stood to one side like a personal valet, spreading honey on the bread, placing a grilled pork sausage on it, then setting it on Sifa's plate.
He frowned, always feeling that breakfast like this was far too simple for Sifa.
Sifa himself did not think so. The meaning of this breakfast did not lie in how much it cost.
Rather, it lay in the fact that a lady had made it with her own hands, and that he was dining with his friends. That was something money could never buy.
Kyle took a sip of milk and smiled. "How did you know that 'Mother' was played by a human?"
Sifa thought to himself that it was the insight of a god.
But outwardly, he said, "Very simple. I have many friends who work in churches."
"They told me that spirit bodies aren't so easy to notice."
"Unless one's spirituality is very strong, ordinary people facing spirit bodies would only feel cold. They couldn't see the spirit bodies directly."
"But 'Mother' had quite a few eyewitnesses. That was very unusual."
Kyle came to a realization. "I see. I really don't know much about this sort of thing."
"Anyway."
"This matter has finally been resolved. The children at the Poorhouse won't be frightened anymore."
Sifa nodded and said to Reg, "Later, donate 1,000 pounds to the Poorhouse for me."
"This money should mainly be used to improve the children's lives and, as much as possible,