Ch. 1 Opening
by AfuhfuihgsTranslator Note
Hello, LegoMyEggo here, so full disclosure. The first part of this story is not translated very well, didn’t exactly know what I was doing at the start. It does get better around c40+ I believe, I am currently trying to redo the earlier parts to make them better but I am a little strapped for time right now with work, college and getting ready for travelling next year and keeping updates coming out on a regular basis. I hope to have them fixed by Spring Break for me
Chapter 1: Opening
“Why do you have that…?”
.
.
.
When she came to her senses on the ominous and eerie altar, the baptism ceremony had already begun.
Once the ceremony ended, she would be revered as a ‘Saint.’
That’s why Sugar chose to escape.
Her soles were bleeding and aching, her breath was short, and her head was spinning, but if she were caught here, she would never have another chance to run away.
As she ran, she prayed. She had never prayed so desperately in her past life or this one.
No matter what happened next, no matter what she became, she begged to avoid the position of a saintess in a cult that served an evil god. The thought of her future turning into something out of a tragic story was horrifying.
At that moment, as she cried out to the world, to herself, and to whoever might be listening—
Rustle—someone emerged from the bushes and blocked Sugar’s path. It was someone entirely unexpected.
It was her childhood friend. Not the kind of person who would suddenly appear in a place like this, making it all the more surprising. And what was even more surprising was the item they were holding while gasping for breath.
“Why do you have that…?”
The item was more shocking than the person.
A grimoire exuding a dark aura. A forbidden, evil tool that could never be accepted by society.
It was the very item carried by the hidden villain in the original story.
The one who committed all sorts of atrocities, collaborated with the cult, and in the end, delivered the final blow to Sugar, who was already on the brink of collapse.
***************
Ever since regaining memories of her past life after being born, Sugar couldn’t help but feel a certain way every time she saw her reflection in the water.
“No matter how I look at it, I’m the ‘Saint.’”
Even though it had only been a day, Sugar was already familiar with her appearance.
Pink-tinged white hair. Eyes that shifted between sky blue and pink depending on the angle.
It was the color scheme of a character from a magic school RPG game she had played before, a member of a suspicious cult.
In a world where even the same face could become a different character entirely with only different eye and hair colors, the color scheme was both personality and life.
Before knowing her true identity in the original story, Sugar had simply found her cute. After learning the truth, she was struck by the contrast between her appearance and the “evil cult with bizarre doctrines.” Moreover, the original character held a unique position.
Within the cult, she was a Saint, but outside, she was known as the one who wore a human mask, a fallen sacrifice, an apostle of the evil god.
She was in a position loved by the evil god more than anyone else, revered by the cult, but that was all.
Kidnapped, she lost her five senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. She lost her voice, her power, and her will, living only as the evil god’s personal doll, breathing but not truly alive.
Even the glimpses of her path shown in the original game were utterly tragic.
The Saintess of the Shadow Cult, a heretical religion where even the clergy and members were incomplete, was such a being.
By the time the game began, this process was already over and there was no way to save her. Instead of her body, the original trapped underground, a fragment of her consciousness appeared, silently aiding the player and accepting the ending that followed their choices.
‘How peculiar.’
In this world where Sugar currently stood, the 11 years she had lived as Sugar were vivid. Her sense of self was clear. She ran with her own feet, ate with her own hands. She didn’t spend her days in a daze, wasn’t swayed by madmen, and wasn’t embraced by the evil god.
It was peaceful, but if she did nothing and continued to laze around in the slums, she would meet the same future as in the original.
Of course, she wouldn’t just sit still, she would struggle somehow. She had information from her past life, she would scramble to escape.
Fear of the impending future, anxiety over whether she could avoid it, and the relief brought by this newfound peace all swirled together in a dizzying mix. Sugar, as an 11-year-old girl, wiped away her tears and stood up.
She had died in an accident and was reborn. Her past life’s memories had merged into this body, so no matter what, she was Sugar, but it was also true that she had once been an adult man. The small body she now inhabited felt strangely alien.
With that maturity, she took her first grand and ambitious step—setting a goal.
“Let’s grow this body first.”
In fights, size matters. In seizing the initiative, size matters. The size of one’s body is important.
—That was the excuse Sugar gave while inwardly complaining about her small body.
.
.
.
Is there anything more pitiful than the words “orphanage in the slums”?
Even in a world filled with all sorts of mysteries, slums were always like this.
“Line up properly! I hope no one tries to get back in line after receiving their portion!”
The long-awaited mealtime at the orphanage. The menu was always the same thin soup. It had no nutritional value, merely filling the stomach, but even that was better than nothing.
You can’t eat dirt, after all. Sugar took her bowl of soup and quietly returned to her seat.
Glancing at the line, she saw the staff managing the children. They were checking to make sure no one was cutting in line or trying to get seconds. Honestly, the latter was the most important.
Gulp. After a few sips, the bottom of the bowl was already visible. Sugar sighed, lamenting the lack of food. Compared to her past life, the soup tasted even worse now, but after years of eating it, she managed to swallow it down.
She missed it. Chicken. Pizza. Pork cutlets.
“Hey, you’re fine, right?”
Suddenly, a voice caught her attention. She turned to look.
“You’re tiny anyway. You won’t be hungry.”
“I’m not taking it all. Just share a little.”
There, schoolyard bullying was happening right out in the open.
‘Since it was happening in the orphanage, was it orphanage bullying?’ Sugar thought uselessly as she glanced at the supervisor, who didn’t seem to care. They were too busy trying to catch whoever was trying to get seconds of the precious orphanage food. Surely, they could hear the commotion.
This was that kind of place. We’ve given you food, what happens after that is up to you.
Shuddering at the blatant portrayal survival of the fittest, Sugar stood up with her empty bowl.
As she approached the scene of bullying, she saw the group. Three large boys were surrounding one small boy, demanding his soup for no good reason.
The boy being bullied showed no expression, no reaction. Taking that as consent, the bullies chuckled as they poured the contents of his bowl into theirs. They said they’d only take a little, but each took a third. With three of them taking a third each, the bowl was soon empty.
Yet, the boy didn’t seem to feel wronged. He didn’t fight back or cry, simply letting everything happen.
Because of this, the bullies would be full, and the boy would go hungry. Thanks to the strict supervisor, he couldn’t get back in line.
Utterly despicable. Sugar clicked her tongue and threw her bowl at the back of one of the bullies’ heads.
“Ow!”
A clear, ringing sound echoed as the boy turned around.
“What the hell?”
“What’s going on?”
The other two turned as well.
There, Sugar stood, wagging her finger with a mischievous expression.
What would happen next was obvious.
.
.
.
“Fuck! Stop! Stop hitting me!”
She smashed the empty bowl on their heads. Using her small size and light weight to her advantage, she clung to their necks, hitting them over and over. Each time, the rhythmic “clang, clang” echoed.
One of them was down after a headbutt to the solar plexus.
Another was coughing, his eyes red from the dust clump Sugar had thrown—it had been piled up on the windowsill—right into his face.
Sugar herself had her hair pulled, her lips split, and bruises everywhere, but in the face of victory, those were minor details.
“We give up! We lost!”
Hearing that, she jumped down.
Even while fighting like animals, they still understood the value of food. The bowls of soup placed on the corner of the table now belonged to Sugar.
Holding her spoils of war carefully, she walked past the children who had resumed eating after the commotion and approached the boy, the original owner of the soup. He sat calmly, unfazed by the chaos.
His icy blue eyes stared up at Sugar. Up close, he looked ragged, but his eyes were as clear as water.
Glancing at him, Sugar poured all the soup into his empty bowl.
A full bowl of soup.
“…”
As the boy opened his mouth to say something,
Sugar took his bowl and poured half of its contents into her own. The same bowl she had used to smash the bullies’ heads.
“Hey.”
Then, she spoke to him in a friendly tone.
“I’m better than them, right?”
“…”
She didn’t have any noble intentions of helping him. In a situation where she needed to eat more to grow taller, she could accept the cold reality and the survival of the fittest.
The strong and hungry should eat more. That was only natural.
Still, at least she left him half.
If it was going to be taken by someone else, it might as well be her.
Sugar had made her declaration to the boy.
The boy looked up at Sugar with a slight frown, as if he were looking at a strange person.
LegoMyEggo
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