Chapter 73

Chapter 73

Someone knocked on the door again.

It was probably Evan.

He had cast some nameless spell that would alert him if anyone other than me entered the room or cast their own magic.

Dragging my feet, I opened the door with a slightly weary gait.

“Looks like three people came in, but they’re not in sight.”

“I put them in the bathtub. I was about to call you because of the smell, but you came at the perfect time.”

“You make me sound like a carrion crow when you put it like that.”

“Anyway, while you’re here, want to try this?”

I took out a newly purchased cigarette with a slightly bitter taste and handed it to Evan.

Though he looked a bit disgusted—claiming cigarettes smelled awful—it was the same thought I’d had before I started smoking, so I encouraged him to give it a try.

After all, if a cigarette did give us cancer here, we could just open up our chest, cut out the lung, and heal it with magic. It would hurt, but it’s something you just have to endure.

Evan took the cigarette I handed him and inhaled the smoke, a surprised look flashing across his face.

Of course—this one was infused with the scent of chocolate.

“How’d you make this?”

“I put chocolate at the bottom and let the smoke absorb the flavor while it burned.”

“It would’ve been great if you’d handed me something like this the first time.”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury to think of such things back then.”

I pulled a small box from my pocket, took out another cigarette, lit it, and placed it between my lips.

Evan walked into the bathroom, and though he claimed to see something blue, it looked black to me—whatever it was that began to swirl around him. The bodies started to disintegrate.

It reminded me of an old movie where a so-called adventurer disguised as a grave robber watched ants devour a person in seconds, leaving only scraps of remains.

“What happens to it all after it’s broken down like that?”

I didn’t even call it a corpse anymore, nor did I name it.

After all, I couldn’t refer to that finely ground powder as the name of what used to be a person.

Even if I did remember the name—like Lydia’s cursed name—I wouldn’t want to say it aloud.

“It gets sent to the stomach of something like the demons the church likes to talk about.

Unlike your noble gods, these creatures always give something back when I offer them something. It’s a nice exchange.”

The gods worshipped in the Empire seemed so inherently good that they forced their followers to embody goodness—even at their own expense.

Particularly those who were giving.

“Right. If you give something, you should get something in return.”

But as with most proverbs, these comforting and meaningful phrases tended to favor the strong.

The gods may have made all people equal under their creation, but they always seemed to bless certain individuals a little more equally than others.

I had tried to erase this inferiority complex, but if effort alone could solve all the problems in the world, even something as grand as world peace would have been accomplished long ago.

Now, I just accepted the sticky, suffocating feelings that made me feel like a base creature while simultaneously reminding me I was alive.

Lydia and the two nameless girls had vanished from this world, leaving behind nothing but a faint trace of blood in the air.

Even that would disappear after a brief airing out and the aroma of tea rising later. That was the extent of their existence.

As I thought about that, I inhaled deeply.

The acrid smoke pressed into my lungs, jolting my mind awake.

Just as I began to feel a slight dizziness, the long cigarette burned to its end, turning to ash and warming my lips.

Too lazy to brush it away, I simply exhaled softly, and the ash scattered.

“So, Evan, what are you planning to do next?”

“That’s a vague question to ask all of a sudden.”

Evan stretched out his words as if prompting me to explain, his expression curious.

“I just… I don’t want anyone to mess with me.

Now that Lydia’s gone, someone else will probably attach themselves to me and start tormenting me again.

I’m an easy target, and there are people who want me dead.

I’d be fine with just that—staying in my room, smoking until my lungs rot, and dying that way.”

“Well, if you think staying in your room will stop people from dragging you out, that hope seems a bit too optimistic.”

He added that it was the same for him.

After all, while I wasn’t a major player, the big names always seemed interested in me.

Not when I was wasting away in my room, though. At those times, they wouldn’t even glance in my direction.

But the moment I tried to do something, the moment I pushed forward against adversity like a protagonist in some heroic tale, they wouldn’t just trip me—they’d cut off my legs entirely.

Rather than explain all that in detail, I glanced out the window and let out a response as meaningless as a monk muttering, “The mountains are mountains, and the rivers are rivers.”

“Dream big.”

To anyone overhearing, it might have sounded like I was someone filled with hope and positivity.

“Dreams, huh? I can make them come true for you.”

Every time Evan said things like that, I got the same feeling—a strange, prickling sensation on my arms, as if someone had rubbed an overinflated balloon against them.

“Living a simple life without worries won’t be easy.

Even for a farmer in the countryside, that’s not an easy life.”

He ended his sentence by mentioning that very few people live without hardship or danger. Then, he finished wiping away every trace of the bathroom’s former contents. Physically speaking.

“Why?”

“Because the Emperor—or rather, the Crown Prince—said you’re just someone who needs to be cleaned up.

He laughed while recounting the things he’d done to you, chatting merrily. So, I let him enjoy the Empire’s most heartfelt fireworks display firsthand.”

Killing someone and then chatting this casually about it—it would feel strange to any normal person.

Even if spoken calmly, harming another isn’t something you should talk about so lightly.

But when it comes down to my survival, someone else’s life becomes irrelevant.

I had already decided long ago that, to save myself, I’d treat those who didn’t help me like flies.

Take Lydia, for example. I didn’t kill her to inflict suffering or exact revenge. I killed her as lightly as one might swat a mosquito that had bitten them.

“So, Erica, you want a life where no one bothers you, right?”

I nodded.

Evan frowned slightly and began counting on his fingers, as if calculating something.

After a few additions and multiplications, he raised one finger and spoke.

“You—or, well, you alone—and about a million ordinary, neither good nor evil people living their lives.

Which one do you think is more important?”

Without hesitation, I answered.

If I were the type to hesitate, I would’ve fled from Evan long ago.

The Evan before me wasn’t the book-loving, magic-adoring, dreamy boy who once loved Vivian.

This Evan was a mad killer, a cursed dark mage.

“Of course, it’s me.”

At my response, Evan shrugged his shoulders as if he had expected it, looking at me with the gaze of someone recognizing a kindred spirit.

But I ignored that look, deliberately suppressing the faint sense of guilt—or the pitiful, hypocritical conscience—that lingered in my heart, reminding me that I hadn’t dirtied my own hands directly.

“Well, I’m not suggesting we go out and cause chaos right now.

If we did, His Majesty, sitting so high and mighty atop his throne, would find it unpleasant and have my head hung on a pole.”

“I don’t quite understand what you’re saying.”

At that, Evan started walking around the room, swinging his legs as if he felt like a teacher lecturing a student.

After a moment, with a slightly smug expression, he spoke to me.

“I’m not proposing marriage or anything, but let’s leave and find a decent place to live when the time is right.

We can’t stay cooped up in this cramped space forever.

Besides, having the cleanup area and the sleeping area in the same space is unsettling.

For now, I’m handling everything well, so there’s no risk. But if I mess up, the spirits might crawl out and try to kill you.”

I understood all too well what he meant by when the time is right, so I didn’t argue. Instead, I offered him a faint smile and nodded.

If they hadn’t hated me so much, I wouldn’t have hated them either.

But conversations were meaningless now.

I lit another cigarette and placed it between my lips.