episode_0008

“It’s exhausting!”

When I was confined to my room, I was just bored, but now that I’m wandering around the mansion and lying in bed, I even feel a sense of comfort.

Yeah, this is heaven.

Compared to back then, this is so much better.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, I recalled those times.

In the first round, my role in the hero’s party was nothing more than dead weight.

Even after begging on my hands and knees to barely join the party, my role was just that of a noisy nuisance.

If only I had been like the protagonists of other regret-filled stories—devoting myself as a pack mule or cooking delicious meals for everyone from the background—then at least I could’ve resented them.

But infuriatingly, my body was far too weak to handle even those tasks. And the worst part? They knew it too.

“You’re a hindrance. Don’t you think it’s about time you realized that?”

“Even if it’s fine for now… who knows when you might become a liability?”

“You don’t look well. Maybe you should rest at the church. I’ll make sure the priests there take good care of you…”

“How pathetic.”

Isolation disguised as consideration. That was their choice. I gritted my teeth and struggled to become their equal, but the harder I tried, the worse my body deteriorated.

But I didn’t care. I thought that as long as I reached the Demon King, as long as I succeeded in regressing, my role would be over.

But those sharp-witted women quickly caught onto my desperation. They made sure I—who had given up on everything—would break completely. To crush me utterly and make me submit to this reality.

You could call it high-level gaslighting. I almost fell for it myself. They never directly insulted or hit me.

I started fighting alongside them against the demons. I couldn’t pull my weight as perfectly as the others, but by combining the knowledge I’d learned at the academy with the information I already had, I could manage about 80% of what they could.

But precisely because of that, I was always the one who got hurt the most.

“Ugh…”

I tightly wrapped bandages over the wounds Cecilia had haphazardly splashed with holy power.

It’s fine.

At least they didn’t kill me or resort to outright violence.

This is just a trial for my future. I can endure it. I’ve suffered worse even before I got possessed.

Forty billion.

With that much money, I could live doing whatever I wanted.

No more starving because I couldn’t eat, no more being ignored, no more getting caught up in unexpected violence.

I just kept telling myself that.

But reality was cruel.

What they could do, I couldn’t. And every time they demanded it of me and I failed, they held me accountable.

“Honestly… you’re just a burden.”

“Can’t even keep up with this much? This was the path you chose. Endure it.”

“You think you can follow us with that pathetic body? Disgusting.”

“…Just give up. My final piece of advice.”

But the more they pushed me away, the more I clung to them, teeth gritted. Sure, part of it was the thought that I couldn’t afford to leave the hero’s party—the center of the story. But what filled my chest even more was my stupid, stubborn pride.

Just wait until I survive. I’ll laugh my fill watching you suffer miserable defeat before the Demon King.

While you in the second round wallow in regret over what you’ve done, clinging to the past, I’ll be moving toward a bright future.

It was a petty emotion, not even worthy of being called jealousy. But no matter how pathetic the motive, a motive is still a motive. My body moved on its own.

Maybe precisely because it was such a worthless motive, I clung to it even harder.

I forced myself to cast spells faster than Elia. I stopped bleeding with bandages instead of relying on Cecilia’s healing. I charged in without Chris’s buffs. I killed demons faster than Rue’s sword.

I had to eat the least and stand guard the longest. Otherwise, I wouldn’t just be the weak one in the party—I’d be the useless one.

I rolled in the dirt and fought just like the others, but I got hurt more. I starved more.

Even right before we reached the Demon King, they never once looked at me.

My words, my efforts—none of it reached them.

I learned then, with bone-deep clarity, that there’s something more terrifying than violence: indifference.

“Much better now.”

That’s where the painful memories end. Compared to back then, now I get meals on time, properly balanced for nutrition.

This is enough. Wanting more would be greedy.

As for why they acted that way… let that remain their own burden to bear.

——

“Oppa tried to help with the mansion’s work?”

Christine’s room.

Though mountains of untouched paperwork still piled on her desk, that wasn’t what mattered to Christine right now.

Compared to her brother, such things were trivial. The paperwork could wait.

“Yes. Today, he suddenly left his room and started wandering around. When I subtly approached, he asked me about the academy.”

“The academy?”

“About his situation and what he should do next… Maybe he’s worried about his future?”

“What did you tell him?!”

Before she realized it, Christine was interrogating Anna. She had barely managed to keep Eric confined to the mansion.

If he changed his mind and decided to return to the academy, Christine had no way to stop him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. The young master just seemed a little bored with his current situation. He didn’t do anything properly, but… he smiled brightly every time he helped the other servants.”

“Good. That’s a relief…”

With a slightly eased mind, Christine slumped into her chair.

Lately, the increased workload left her with almost no free time to visit Eric.

So hearing reports about him from Anna had become her only comfort these days.

“I was worried since he was always cooped up in his room, but he seems to be in better shape than I thought. Now that he’s regained his senses, he’s oddly good-looking, don’t you think~?”

“What?”

For Christine, that was a remark she couldn’t ignore—but Anna had no particular thoughts behind it.

She was just stating the obvious, like calling an apple an apple.

A reversal effect, perhaps.

The Eric from a few weeks ago—starved to a pitiful state, his body emaciated from all his erratic behavior—and the Eric now looked like completely different people to anyone who saw them.

Though he’d gained some weight, his naturally pale skin and black hair still couldn’t overcome their inherent limitations. And his eyes, which seemed resigned to everything, carried a strange, decadent charm.

Even his noisy, talkative demeanor somehow added to his appeal, like a small animal puffing itself up to hide. It gave him a peculiar allure.

“You didn’t do anything to him, did you?”

“Me? Like what?”

“You know… like deliberately getting closer to him or something…”

Even by Christine’s standards, Anna was quite beautiful. Regardless of her true nature, her brown hair and lively appearance were more than enough to steal the hearts of many men.

And as Eric’s caretaker, now that he was doing better, the possibility that—

Unlike Christine, who had inflicted irreparable wounds on Eric, Anna actually owed him a debt of gratitude.

The guilt of knowing but failing to save him weighed on her—no less than it did on Eric himself. If Eric and Anna really grew close, then I…

Christine waited tensely for Anna’s answer. And then Anna replied.

“Get closer? How? In what way?”

The one left flustered by the counter-question was Christine.

She, too, was clueless about relationships between men and women.

“W-well… you know… just don’t get too familiar with him!”

What burst from Christine’s lips sounded like a child’s tantrum.

“Huh?”

“N-no, I mean—that’s not what I…”

Anna grinned mischievously at her.

“Aah, so Lady Chris has decided to personally rehabilitate the young master! How admirable! I’ll serve you with lifelong loyalty!”

“Eh?”

Christine was baffled. How had the conversation taken such a turn?

“Are you serious?”

“Was I wrong? I thought you meant to monitor him yourself instead of leaving it to me or the other servants.”

“Ah—right. Yes, that’s it. You’re as sharp as ever.”

“Hehe, thank you. So should I continue keeping an eye on him as usual?”

“Yeah. If anything unusual happens or if there’s any problem—no matter how small—report it to me.”

“Understood. But, my lady… why is there so much more paperwork than usual?”