After transmigrating as the weakest deity, Futivier hit the jackpot from the start!
She was useless, saddled with debts left by the original owner, and had her life in the hands of a Saintess.
The Saintess, Isolde, was blonde, cold-faced, and held the contract that let her treat Futivier like a workhorse.
Futivier couldn't afford to cross her, so she decided to put on an act!
She pretended to be poor, useless, and obedient, secretly saving money and quietly recovering her strength in a backwater town.
Who knew the Saintess would suddenly come to inspect the place?
"It's been three years, little Futivier. And this is the best you can do at running the place?"
Futivier nodded repeatedly. "What could I possibly do?" Blame the weather, blame the townfolk for being lazy. It all came down to one thing: keep up the act!
Inwardly, she was already gritting her teeth.
"Once I get my strength back, you're the first one I'm taking down, you nasty blonde!"
But what she didn't know was this:
The Saintess had seen through everything long ago, but hadn't called her out. In fact, she thought the whole performance was... pretty cute.
Maybe... she was plotting some grand scheme?
Never mind. As long as she could set her straight, everything would be fine...
--
One tries her hardest to put on an act, while the other plays along.
