Don't Stick Your Nose Into Other People's Business

What do you guys think of the new cover? should I keep it or change it?

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[Every Tuesday is a day off.]

-Blink. Blink.

A lady rubbing her eyes.

I rubbed mine in the same manner.

"Ricardo, I think there's dust in my eyes."

"I feel the same."

Leaving the handcart's handle, I looked up at the clear sky. The sky was clear without a single cloud, it would have been a good day to tear into some meat

The lady and I had our wills shattered by the sign declaring the business's closure.

We stared into the void for about a minute without words.

The lady, with trembling eyes, looked at the sign hanging on the door, and I, sensing something was seriously amiss, clenched my lips tightly.

The lady collapsed onto the handcart.

"This makes no sense."

"It's clear the world is trying to starve me to death."

The lady, gazing emptily at the sky, was pouring out her resentment towards the world.

The handcart's floor wasn't too hard because it was cushioned with a plush mat, but the sight of the lady cursing the world with vacant eyes was priceless.

If only a bottle of soju were placed in the lady's hand as she lay sprawled out like a homeless person arms spread wide, it would've seemed like we were at Seoul Station.

The lady muttered, feeling that the world was being unfair to her.

"This is nothing less than the abuse of nobility. There should be a trial."

"Do you have any money?"

"No."

She became even more depressed.

A much-anticipated outing had turned into failure. I had mustered up my courage to go out, only to be greeted by a sign announcing the shop's closure. I hadn't even prepared dinner, and now my grand plans had fizzled into nothing.

The lady looked at me. She demanded an alternative from me. I smiled awkwardly and whistled.

If you can't eat what you've been craving, any food you eat will be a disappointment. In a past life, the orphanage director announced we'd have chicken for dinner but came back with Rice Cakes instead. That Rice Cake tasted truly awful because I was expecting chicken.

Memories of yearning for chicken and whimpering while eating rice cakes lingered, making it difficult to suggest an alternative.

Was there no way out?

Apart from forest friends, what else could satisfy the lady's gnawing hunger?

Looking at the lady who seemed to have lost her purpose in life, I cautiously asked.

"Is there anything you'd like to eat?"

"No."

The lady, visibly upset, pouted and sighed.

"Don't be like that, let's go eat something else. It even saves us a meal ticket, which is nice."

"..."

Reluctant to just return, the lady gave a slight nod. While the plan for dining out had failed, the outing itself wasn't over yet.

I thought it wouldn't be too bad to breathe some fresh air and enjoy the cool autumn breeze while watching the autumn leaves.

I grabbed the handcart's handle and started rolling the wheels. I glanced back, concerned whether the bumpy road was hard on the lady's bottom, but the lady, looking emptily at the sky, was indulging in a life crisis, unfazed by the jolts or sudden stops.

"I'm sad. I was hoping to eat a lot of meat today."

"I was hoping to eat a lot of meat today too. It's a shame."

"Hmm Ricardo."

"Yes?"

The lady, who had been savoring the autumn breeze while lying on the handcart, stole a glance at me and brought up some trivial talk.

"Do you want something to eat, Ricardo?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

The lady nodded slightly.

Knowing the lady dislikes the phrase "whatever," I pondered deeply.

What food would the lady like that won't be too clich?

Steak wouldn't do.

And while the lady likes cake, that wouldn't be a fitting response to her question. If I suggested cake, the lady would likely propose just turning back.

-Rattle.

Was it when the sound of the handcarts wheels going longer? The lady poked her head out slightly and carelessly looked around.

"It's been a long time since Ive been here."

Here?

A market lined with street vendors. A market full of snacks like chicken skewers and cotton candy, emitting irresistible aromas. The ladys eyes came alive upon sniffing the delicious scents.

I quickly decided on our dinner. It wasn't intentional, but fortunately, I was able to escape from the dilemma of choosing.

I turned to the lady and asked,

"How about eating here? We can try whatever we want, like at a buffet."

"Rereally?"

I gave a small nod.

"Wouldn't it be nice, reminiscent of old times? If its alright with you, lady, we can settle for dinner here and maybe buy some bath additives on the way back."

"Bath additives! Mint chocolate scent!"

"No, not that."

The lady nodded vigorously in agreement.

I held the handcart's handle and gave the lady a look, asking if she was ready.

"So, gear four."

"What?"

The lady clenched the handcarts handle and swallowed hard.

"Can't we go at gear two?"

"Sorry. I have such noble legs that I can't control the speed."

The lady's timid view failed to persuade my explosive legs.

Its alright to go fast since Ive made a seatbelt.

The lady, with her eyes tightly shut, pounded on the handcart's railing and bravely said,

"St-start!"

The lady's scream echoed through the streets.

***

"Yum. Delicious. Try some too, Ricardo."

The lady, hands full of skewers, handed one to me while munching.

An odd-looking skewer.

Skewered was a frog, the protagonist of a nursery rhyme with its forelegs and hindlegs poking out. The lady, offering the frog skewer and smiling happily, was a true peace advocate of this era who didnt mind appearances as long as it tasted good.

"This is delicious."

"..."

"Seriously, it's good."

"I yield."

I shook my head and pointed to the chicken skewer in her left hand.

"Can I have that instead? It looks tasty."

"This? No way, I yield."

The lady gave me a look of refusal. Apparently, she was saving the tasty one for herself, but its truly delicious to sneak a bite from someone elses treat. As I gazed at her with glossy, cat-like eyes, the lady placed half of the chicken skewer in her mouth and shakily handed it to me.

"Lady, are you perhaps an alien like Doraemon?"

"an alien like Doraemon?"

"There's a monster that cuts everything in half."

"That's a bad monster."

"Your also bad"

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

I took the skewer offered by the lady and stuffed my mouth.

As streetlights came on, crowds began to gather.

Families out to enjoy the night market,

Couples on a date,

And even kids from the slums trying to pick pockets amidst the crowd.

As more people filled the streets, the lady squeezed herself into a corner of the handcart.

Glancing awkwardly around, then bowing her head when eye contact was made, the lady chewed on an empty skewer stick. Seeing this, I steered the handcart away from the crowd.

The crowds were increasing, and among them, the lady seemed to try to escape notice, slipping further into the handcart, nervously looking around. If there was eye contact, she would bow her head and keep gnawing on the empty skewer. Recognizing the lady's discomfort, I navigated the handcart through less crowded areas, avoiding the throng.

The crowd was getting larger and with it the number of eyes on us. The lady began to feel the onset of panic.

"Eek"

"There are too many people."

A high-ranking noble worried about the attention of others.

Once upon a time, the lady lived for the gaze of others and thrived on ostentation. Sympathetic glances must have felt burdensome to her, who had always been the object of admiration rather than pity.

Seeing the lady feeling ashamed of her now shabby appearance, I patted my full stomach and spoke loudly.

"Ah I'm so full!"

The lady looked up at me. Seeing her pale face, I regretted not having done this sooner.

The lady asked me in a trembling voice.

"Are are you really full?"

"Yes, very full. Maybe I've eaten too much of this and that and now my stomach is bursting."

The color returned to the lady's face. She seemed to want to go back. Very much so. Just in case, I asked her,

"Isn't the lady full as well?"

Similarly patting her stomach, the lady, nodding her head, said,

"Yeah. I'm full."

The lady was twitching her lips, unable to say she wanted to go back, perhaps worrying about being a nuisance to me or prematurely ending the outing because of her.

She kept sneaking glances at me from under her hat, hesitating to speak.

Honestly, I was a little disappointed.

I was hungry, and we hadn't wandered around much. But fulfilling the master's wishes is a butler's virtue, and we could always come back another time. I comforted her with a look that said not to worry.

"Shall we start heading back slowly? If we buy the bath additive and head back now, the timing should be just right."

"Really? You won't be disappointed?"

"Yes."

The lady's expression brightened.

"Then shall we go?"

"Yes, I'll take you back at a leisurely pace."

I didn't hesitate to pull the handcart. As we headed towards the store, chatting about various bath additives and agreeing not to buy the mint chocolate one, the lady called out.

"Ricardo."

The lady pointed to a gloomy alley with her finger.

The dim alley where the slum dwellers lived.

The lady, pointing to an alley where parentless orphans and vagrants lived, showed an odd expression and said to me,

"Isn't that Yuria?"

The familiar name the lady called out was one that shouldn't be here.

"That can't be."

"There look. The girl with the pink hair."

There was a sinking feeling, but our steps headed towards the alley. The slums were dangerous.

Especially for a woman.

Why would Yuria, who only saw the bright things in the world, enter such a place? But of course, being the heroine, she would have plenty of reasons to go in. Yuria was a naive person with meddling tendencies.

I sighed deeply and as I pulled the handcart closer to the alley, loud noises could be heard.

-What are you doing right now!?

-Just mind your own business and go on your way~

Sarcastic remarks from a thug and,

A familiar female voice.

I let out a sigh.

Was that woman not afraid?

Judging by the thugs speaking normally, it seemed she had come alone. If she had been with someone else, male heroes would have handled it.

The exchange of intense voices quickened our steps.

-I clearly saw it. I saw you stealing the money I gave the child. Give it back!

-No, you must be mistaken, ma'am. Hey, did I take your money?

-No.

The situation seemed to be going south.

Thugs from the alley slowly gathered, and Yuria was alone.

-Come to think of it, miss, you look pretty delicate.

-What did you say?

-You seem like you'd sell for a good price.

-Let go of me!

-Just put her to sleep with drugs, right brother?

I left the handcart in an unoccupied spot for a moment.

I sought permission from the lady.

"Lady"

***

Yuria was in a panic.

She had wanted to help a poor child, but now a group of large men surrounded her.

The man approaching with a dagger was scary, and the one trying to pull her deeper into the alley by grabbing her hand was terrifying.

She couldn't escape his grip, and there was no one to help.

Yuria's legs, paralyzed by fear, would not listen to her.

"Let go of me! I'll scream!"

"Go ahead and scream. Let's see who'll come."

A stocky man forcibly grabbed her wrist and attempted to pull her deeper into the alley.

She was scared, terribly so.

She wished someone would help.

Yuria regretted her past self, who said she wouldn't learn harmful magic; she should have learned some self-defense magic. She felt like crying out of fear.

Was it wrong that she didn't ignore the child being hit, or was it wrong that she wandered the streets alone?

Whatever the case, she was afraid and terrified.

The words of a male student from the Royal Academy flashed through her mind.

-Don't stick your nose into other people's business. It's not that I'm making fun of you, Miss Yuria; it's out of concern.

What good would regret do now?

Yuria struggled to break free but only received vile curses in return.

"Stay still! Before I kill you!"

That's when it happened.

"Kill? Whom?"

The silhouette of a man emerged from the alley.

"Don't breathe, you're polluting the air."

A familiar redhead.

At the same time, the man she disliked the most was slowly walking towards her, his red eyes flaring.

And then.

"Fucking hell! This is my territory!"

She saw the villainess on his back.

"Ricardo! use Attack!"

"That's what I should be saying."

"Attack!"

"No, I'm trying to look cool right now."

"Growl! Attack!"

"Ha"

Yuria collapsed right there, her legs giving out.

"Ricardo! Yuria's dead!"

"Please don't kill someone who's clearly alive."

"Eek!"

As she closed her eyes, the screams of the thugs could be heard.

*** ****

Swish.

Yuria slowly opened her eyes.

As the bright light from the street trees struck her eyes, she squinted. Had she momentarily passed out? Instead of the dark alley, she found herself on a street illuminated by lampposts.

There were shops around her, and couples passed by on this peaceful street. Her wrist, still stinging from where the big man had grabbed her, stood in stark contrast to the tranquil scene, which seemed oblivious to her agitated heart.

Her tension eased.

The realization that she was now safe made her body go limp.

"What a relief"

Everyone passing by seemed to think so.

Even the moving lampposts, yes, everything was safe?

"Do lampposts move?"

Yuria felt the ground on which she lay.

She perceived a soft sensation beneath her. Turning her gaze to the ground, she was met with a sight of a luxurious pink cushion.

"Uh?"

A sense of foreboding washed over Yuria.

Worry began to fill her mind.

She felt a slight rumbling sensation against her back.

A voice as sharp as a street cat's yet relaxed floated from beside her.

"It's cramped"

There in the corner of the handcart, shrinking her shoulders, sat Lady Olivia.

Olivia, with white hair dressed in a black gown.

Upon their eyes meeting, Olivia turned her head away toward the outside, making an awkward expression.

"The weather is nice."

The awkward words from the lady who was gazing up at the darkening sky gave Yuria a headache.

How long had she been like this?

She had come for a preliminary visit with Michail and Ruin, and while they had briefly gone to buy gifts, this incident had occurred.

She had felt sorry for a begging child, put a pouch full of gold coins into a can for him, and then she had impulsively followed him into an alley when she saw him getting hit

Ah.

As the puzzle pieces of her memory fit together, her field of view began to widen.

Her face felt hot with embarrassment.

I must be crazy!'

Now she finally noticed the red-haired servant. Ricardo, who was sweating profusely as he powerfully pulled the handcart.

I've caused trouble again.'

Ricardo turned around, noticed her awakening, and met her with a small, reassuring smile.

"Are you awake?"

His voice was laced with worry.

It was the same voice that had comforted her when she felt down at the Royal Academy.

"Sorry for fainting all of a sudden"

"You could have just left me there."

"I didn't think of that. Ha ha"

Pulling the handcart, Ricardo chuckled awkwardly as he apologized. They chatted with Ricardo leading the conversation, making jokes about her not being injured, apologizing for laying her down in such an undignified place.

It was all so awkward.

Sitting there on the handcart and being in debt to Ricardo. The again' kept spinning around in her head.

Ah This is driving me crazy.'

She couldn't raise her head, both from awkwardness and not knowing what to say.

She needed to say thank you, but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. Was it her pride, or was it because the lady was there?

She was unsure how to express herself.

-A quick glance

"Uh.. huh"

Olivia was observing her, unable to speak freely, silently pleading with her eyes not to start a conversation.

As the handcart thumped over a stone, jolting her, she yelped in pain.

"Ow"

Upon seeing her grimace, Olivia moved into a deeper corner and vacated a spot, timidly tapping the floor of the handcart.

"Here, sit down"

The sharp reply came out reflexively.

"Don't worry about me."

Olivia turned her head away, looking dejected, and mumbled.

"It's my handcart after all..."

Yuria wasn't sure what to say to Olivia.

To Olivia, who had tormented her in the past it seemed unlikely anything kind would come out.

She didn't want to pretend like nothing had happened, nor did she want to foolishly forgive others, not after what she had endured because of those two.

She sat crouched down in the handcart, waiting for time to pass.

As Olivia began to doze off, Ricardo, his red hair tousled, laid Olivia down in the corner of the handcart and said,

"You must have been quite frightened?"

"..."

She couldn't bring herself to reply to his sudden words of comfort. It felt like cheating for him to ask so gently.

She remained silent and just stared at her palms.

Her fingers wriggled and picked at her nails in a shamefully nervous manner.

Ricardo awkwardly smiled and steered the conversation elsewhere.

"Where is your group?"

"At the plaza."

"The plaza? We've come the complete opposite way. Who did you come with?"

"Michail and Ruin."

Ricardo fell silent.

With an awkward smile, he murmured Is that so.' and pushed on steadily towards the plaza.

As her searching companions started coming into view,

Ricardo, keeping silent until now, parked the handcart in a deserted place and began to speak.

With a voice low and quiet.

"Miss Yuria."

"Yes?"

"Are you really okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

His voice sounded sweeter than ever, with a concern that was almost formal, yet why did it resonate so much?

She resented her heart for racing foolishly.

Ricardo exhaled deeply and said,

"It seems every time we meet, I am just worrying about you."

Every time

Doubts began to form.

Every time she found herself in danger, he appeared like a hero. Yuria had her doubts about Ricardo but before she could ask him anything, Ricardo spoke first, answering her unasked question.

"By the way, just so you know, I didn't orchestrate any of this."

"Ah I know."

"Your face says you're dying of suspicion though."

Yuria covered her face with her hands.

Was it that obvious?

Ricardo awkwardly smiled and offered a hand to her as she sat on the handcart.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes."

"Good to hear."

She looked towards the plaza. Ruin was busily running around, searching for her in the distance. As she raised her hand slowly to wave at him, letting him know not to worry, that she was here

"Just a moment."

Ricardo caught her wrist with a sense of urgency in his voice. Seeing the fresh, blue bruises he sighed deeply.

Her heart fluttered.

"What's this?"

"Ah It got hurt earlier. I'm fine."

"Fine? You've got bruises all over your wrist!"

It was like that time when she had been bullied by the young ladies and was crying. It was Ricardo who had consoled her back then, too.

-"Were you here? You sure run fast."

-"Why did you follow?"

-"Isn't this precious to you?"

She recalled the red-haired servant who had retrieved the pendant the noble young ladies had thrown in the pond and had handed it back to her with such a silly smile while sporting seaweed dangling over his head. His face kept overlapping with the memory.

-"Huh Th-thank you!"

-"Why are you crying again?"

-"I'm not crying."

-"You're such a fool. Really."

Every time it got confusing. Whether this person was really bad or just good at pretending.

He kept making her misunderstand.

"There, that's done. Don't carry anything heavy, and have Ruin bring you some water to drink."

Ricardo knelt down on one knee and applied an ointment to her wrist. As she watched him crouching down to tend to her, it felt strangely new yet reminiscent of how he was earlier in the first semester.

Ricardo scolded her.

Not the kind of nagging that Michail or Ruin would give, but rather realistic admonishments.

Unlike Michail who would compliment, "Your reckless actions are admirable," or Ruin who would marvel at how beautiful her heart was, Ricardo said the kind of nagging that might feel offensive coming from anyone else.

"Why would someone who cant even take down a goblin alone go into that place?"

"I can take down a goblin"

"You cant even cast a fireball, how can you claim to fight goblins."

"..."

"It was really dangerous."

Yuria retorted to Ricardo's words. She believed she had done the right thing and had been taught at the Royal Academy to live by what is just and right.

Yuria vented her frustration on Ricardo.

"But still, if it wasn't for me, that kid would've kept getting beaten. He might have gone hungry tonight."

"That could be. He might have been beaten to death, or had the money he begged for stolen, then covered his mouth and cried his eyes out tonight."

Ricardo spoke emotionlessly, as if it were nothing unusual.

As if he had experienced the same.

"But Yuria, you could have been in danger."

Her fists clenched.

Why did he care?

He was the bad man who tormented her.

If he had consistently been mean, she could have hated him.

So, she got more angry.

To make things less confusing, to let him know not to confuse her.

"But still, I could give them hope. Hope for tomorrow. Hope that not everyone in the world is bad. That somewhere in the world, there are decent adults!"

Ricardo answered with an awkward smile.

"Even so. You were in danger, weren't you."

While looking at the brightly lit plaza, Ricardo turned around.

The lamp post's light cast a chilling shadow on Ricardo, and Yuria swallowed hard.

"What if you had been wrong, Yuria? What then?"

"If I were wrong?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think would happen if I were wrong? Do you wish for that too, Ricardo? That I would be wrong both in the Royal Academy and now?"

Ricardo chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head mumbling, "That's true" and Yuria felt a pang in her heart.

"But somehow, I think my heart would ache if Yuria were hurt."

"Really?"

"Just so you know."

Ricardo turned away, casually, and pushed the handcart. As he laid the sleeping lady's head on the soft cushion and pressed forward, Ricardo spoke in a quiet, steady voice.

"And Yuria."

Ricardo paused. He gazed solemnly at the place where the alley had been, clutching the handle tightly.

"Not everyone is good, you know."

Ricardo gazed at the plaza.

He bowed his head upon seeing Ruin running towards them, and he started to push the handcart away.

As Ricardo slowly receded, he said one last thing to her.

"Don't stick your nose into other people's business."

The words were laden with many possible meanings.

She thought she couldn't possibly adhere to that.

And at the same time, her heart pounded. Yuria called out to the departing Ricardo.

"Ricardo."

"Yes?"

"Are you really a bad person?"

Ricardo answered with a small smile.

"Yes. I am the worst."

***

The alley was blanketed by the shadow of the night.

The noisy chatter of the vagabonds shattered the stillness of dawn.

Boisterous laughter and tales of bravado spread in the late hours of the alley, a time when they boasted about who would be a bigger trash.

"If it hadn't been for that guy, we could've made a fortune."

"Ha, this little guy's acting gets better by the day."

"Bro, you should take some lessons too. I thought we were caught because it was so obvious."

"Uh-haha! You should teach me then. Are you okay from the hit earlier?"

"If it really hurt from that hit, I would've been down long ago."

They were the vagabonds who had targeted Yuria.

As their conversation moved from lewd jokes about Yuria to overstepping remarks,

A chilling voice echoed from a corner of the alley.

"Do you guys really think that too?"

A dark shadow loomed at the entrance of the alley. The figure of a man with red hair obscured the moonlight.

The vagabonds drew their daggers, revealing blades that reflected the scarlet hair.

"It seems we have some unfinished business, doesn't it?"

The red-haired man approached, dragging his sword along the ground. The cold, sharp sound scraped through the alley.

"When you commit misdeeds, you should choose your victim wisely. Its how you stay alive in this game."

I drew my sword.

To settle accounts for earlier.

Familiar faces appeared.

The little boy who Yuria had saved.

The big man who had grabbed Yuria's wrist.

The lean man who had sprinkled drugs on his handkerchief.

A venomous grin spread across my face as I watched the frightened expressions of those men.

I spoke to them as I looked on.

"I won't kill you. Because I'm not that bad of a person"

"But let's call it quits on your shady business. What you owe for your lives should cover it."

The red hair began to soak with blood.

*** ***

Groaning sounds filled the air.

The ground was drenched with blood, and the vagabonds were carrying their fallen comrades back into the depths of the alley.

-Thump Thump

A new guest was arriving.

A man casting a small shadow across the moonlit alleyway.

I said to him,

"It's been a while."

The man, with silver hair and wielding a sword, was the secondary male protagonist.

"Michail."

Michail.

With his silver hair.

A modest height of 168cm.

A pretty boy with skin as white as porcelain.

A virtuous personality.

A handsome appearance.

A voice slender and unripe.

Michail was a character who held the essence of all the elements female readers liked; in opposition to the stalwart frame of the Crown Prince and Ruin, he presented a different kind of appeal.

Different from the Crown Prince with his allelic charm and the thuggish Ruin, Michail was an important character who firmly believed that strength' existed to protect the weak and was unable to tolerate injustice, making him a key presence in the novel that offered both relief and frustration with his sense of rightness.

He forgave the villain who had tried to kill him, erroneously darkened the path of a friend formerly an ally and even put the female lead in danger through needless meddling, leading to trouble. All because he only knew too well about honesty and justice, a character inducing aggravation.

That is the Michail I remember, and such was the assessment of him.

What Michail thinks of us, I do not know, but one thing is for sure, I do not like Michail and Michail does not like me either.

The young lady and I had wrecked half of Michail's freshman year, and in turn, Michail had ruined her.

I resented it.

An inherently mutual disdain is what characterized our relationship.

That was the relationship between Michail and me.

*** ***

A man with silver hair carrying the moonlight's caress is drawing near with a deadly air.

Once at the fleeing miscreant.

Twice as he looked at me, standing haphazardly.

Thrice when he frowned upon seeing blood on the blade.

Michail's piercing eyes were flickering intensely.

"Damn you"

Michail hissed a curse. Would he really want to greet an old friend he hadn't seen in so long with such words? Not even a simple glad to see you' in exchange.

Exhaling a sigh against his frigid demeanor, I unleashed a blade's qi towards the runaway. It was essential to be calculated.

Argh' Upon the scream resonating from the alley's other end, Michail gripped the handle of his sword, ready to charge at any moment.

As I wielded my sword emotionlessly, Michail yelled at me.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Be quiet."

"What are you doing!"

"Isn't it quite late?"

An awkward atmosphere lingered.

Why Michail was here.

What Michail was thinking.

I had my guesses, but to confirm, I decided to ask him directly. It's more accurate to hear it from himself rather than making assumptions alone.

Brushing the blood from the blade, I spoke to Michail.

"Michail, please, calm down."

"You're telling me to calm down after seeing me like this?"

"I could very well be the victim here."

"Spout some sense, at least."

"That's quite hurtful. To think how vulnerable I am."

Cold glances were exchanged. The silent words I despise you' filled the quiet alley.

I posed a question to Michail.

"Why are you here in such a dreary place? Can someone as eminent and busy as yourself from the Empire afford to be seen here?"

"I didn't wish to come to your abode but I heard cries for help. Then, what are you doing here?"

"Uh Cleaning?"

Upon hearing the word cleaning', Michail drew his sword. The prospect of equating people to trash seemed not to sit well with him. Although my words were softened, the sight of Michail reaching for his sword was still disappointing.

I uttered a cautionary word to Michail.

"Think you can handle what comes next?"

He halted.

Michail stopped drawing his sword and looked at me. He understood the significance of my inquiry.

Here, there was no crowd, no young lady to mediate the tension. This was no Royal Academy where peace and order reigned.

Only Michail and I stood in the silent alley.

My question was teeming with implications.

The challenge of whether or not he could win, and a threat that a mere spar wouldn't be the end of it, lay compacted in those brief words.

In this foul mood, I was capable of hurting Michail by mistake.

To earnestly fight someone who cannot employ aura would not befit a swordsman, yet for me, in my current loathsome state, it was entirely within the realm of possibility.

Whenever I saw Michail, I was reminded of the lady.

A flashback of the lady laid out on her bed, coupled with the vision of Michail's harsh treatment of her, made it impossible for me to stifle my wrath.

Contrary to appearances, my mental fortitude is weak.

Though I am resistant to offensive dad jokes.

And can generally take some verbal abuse, when it comes to Michail uttering the lady's name, I feel an overwhelming urge to demolish everything, regardless of whether he is the supporting male lead or something else.

Thus, I questioned.

"Can you handle it?"

If we were to fight now, I feared no moderation in my retaliation. Seeing his face was genuinely unpleasant to the point I wanted desperately to leave right then, but fleeing would likely lead Michail to report me to the guards or build up even more misunderstandings, prompting me to suppress my rage and inquire.

Already loathed by someone fated to become the mightiest in this universe, I did not wish to provoke him with idle words and become the target of resentment even after the story's conclusion.

So here I am, holding back my anger, playing along with Michail's clumsy provocation.

Michail drew his sword.

"Do you think you can handle it?"

It seems my genuine concern did not reach him.

Michail, radiating a blue-tinted blade, walked slowly toward me. His muttering voice reached my ears vividly. Physical acceleration. Strength enhancement. Shield.' Upon seeing Michail preparing battle support magic spells, I gripped my sword tightly.

I wish he would just leave quietly'

Michail's body shone faintly. His hair fluttered about due to the surrounding mana, and with a heavy breath inhaled, Michail's figure seemed all the more trivial.

Should I say I was disappointed?

Disappointment was the first thing I felt at Michail's lack of growth, falling short of expectations. By now, I thought he'd be able to use enhancement magic in conjunction with Shadowless Windows, but he couldn't even do that, his excited observation of the surroundings being just as clumsy.

With things like this

It doesn't seem like this event will be a success

Michail, pointing the tip of his sword at me, said,

"You haven't changed at all. Harassing the weak, treating murder as casually as eating a meal"

"People don't change that easily. And one should live with some backbone."

"That kind of backbone isn't needed. Stubbornness that only torments others and never knows forgiveness is evil."

"You'd be mistaken for a clergyman. Always forgiving. Have you forgiven us, then?"

Grind. The sound of Michail grinding his teeth reached me.

"You all crossed the line."

"Crossing the line is supposedly what Michail does. It's not like it's racism."

"Don't play word games."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes either."

Michail challenged me as if demanding an answer.

"You said cleaning Is that what you call bullying those pitiful people?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

"Madman," Michail muttered under his breath. He glared at me with eyes full of loathing, eyes I had seen before at the Royal Academy.

Those were the eyes Michail looked at me with on the day our relationship truly started to sour. Overflowing with disappointment, a reminiscence of times when you said it wouldn't be like this.

"You killed them?"

"I had no choice."

"I'm asking you if you killed them!"

"I'm sorry."

An unpleasant memory.

Michail questioned me as if cross-examining, still filled with cold hatred and resentment toward me.

"You've always been like this, If someone displeases you, you kill them, and make sure they can never rise again, trample them ruthlessly."

"There must be a reason for that."

"No, you are different. You lack principles, you cross lines."

To Michail's definitive statement, I responded with a faint smile, mixing sincerity with provocation, unable to merely stand passive as Michail approached. It seemed the misunderstanding wouldn't be cleared up.

"Then, has Michail ever heard my story?"

"What?"

"At the Academy and even now, you rush to judgment without asking why. If it seems bad, it's bad, but if I'm going to be seen as bad anyway, isn't it better to live wickedly?"

"Again"

I looked down the deep alley where the vagrants had disappeared.

"Do those guys look like good people to you?"

"They might not be good, but they're still pitiful."

"They might've killed someone. Maybe even worse."

"They could have had their reasons."

I chuckled as if the notion was absurd.

"Pitiful? You say that knowing nothing."

"At least they seem more pitiful than you, who torments the weak."

"Could you say that if Yuria was endangered by that guy?"

"What?"

"Didn't Yuria tell you?"

Michail clenched his sword. A chuckle escaped me at the sight of Michail spewing nonsense, looking only at what he wanted to see, an utter fool.

I stepped forward with my sword.

It seemed we wouldn't clear up this misunderstanding.

No matter what I said, it seemed he wouldn't listen, and continuing this conversation with someone whose mind is filled with justice, sympathy, and forgiveness felt like crossing a line.

I spoke to Michail, who was shouting at me.

"Shut up. It's noisy."

The moment a red aura enveloped my sword and an overwhelming sense of oppression blanketed Michail.

Gasping for breath, Michail lifted his sword with trembling hands.

Looking at me as if he was determined to win, his shaking legs did not feel intimidating. Curiosity crept in, wondering to what extent he could go.

To Michail, all covered in dirt and dust, I said,

"Stand up."

"Shut up."

The sound of his grinding teeth reached my ears from afar.

Michail's expression, unable to contain his frustration.

The sight of him covered in dirt and dust.

It felt pitiable and at the same time, quite refreshing.

It feels almost addictive

Michail swung his sword at me again.

The blade of Michail, who had reached his limit, was trembling. It was an attack filled with desperation, rather than an efficient one due to uncontrolled emotions.

I lightly dodged Michail's sword and struck his exposed side with the sheath. I made sure it was with enough force to not break his bones but still inflict a certain pain.

With a gruesome ripping sound echoing, Michail staggered greatly.

"Argh haah!"

Seeing Michail striving to withstand it with his fighting spirit, I spoke again.

"Your left leg is open."

As soon as the words finished, I struck down on Michail's leg with the sheath. His body buzzed and fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

A cloud of dust rose.

As the thick dust cloud obscured my sight, I could no longer see Michail.

Pop.' Michail quickly tried to strike from within the dust cloud, but as I sensed his movements, I easily dodged his attack and spoke once more.

"This time, it's the right side of your waist."

Another vicious sound resounded through the alley.

With the attack sinking deep, I was certain.

He wouldn't be able to stand now.

Even Michail, who had the resilience to rise again hundreds of times, couldn't bear the pain of the aura squeezing his innards.

During the quiet three seconds that followed,

Michail, strained by severe pain, couldn't scream, only clutching his abdomen. Along with a clanging sound, Michail's sword fell from his hand. At the same time, I saw Michail slump to the ground.

I walked toward the fallen Michail.

With steps neither fast nor slow, I approached the protagonist of this novel who had crumbled to the ground.

Michail's pupils were shaking.

Fear of experiencing the same pain again, and a sense of powerlessness over the overwhelming gap in skill, was evident in Michail's wrecked expression.

Looking down at Michail, I said,

"Shall we call it quits now?"

"I can still go on!"

Snap.

Fingers of mirage-like red energy started to constrict Michails breath.

I crushed down on his shoulder so he couldn't rise again, and the unfaltering spirit of Michail began to erode.

Michail gritted his teeth, trying to overcome the crisis.

With an awkward smile, I whispered to Michail.

"Let's stop. You'll ruin your body if it goes on."

"Don't pretend to care. Something like this is"

"You'll really die."

The killing intent in my voice made Michail's pupils quake violently.

"Don't move."

"Got it?"

I know.

How detestable a person I am to Michail. I tormented his beloved girl and sided with the girl he disliked, causing him trouble.

I could understand his hate and his refusal to listen to me.

I don't seek Michail's understanding.

That would be shameless if I did.

Just one thing, just this one thing I wish he understood just as Yuria is an existence to Michail, the lady is a great presence to me.

Such actions might be mere tantrums, immature attempts to vent, but I wished the boneheaded me were understood a bit more.

I leaned down to pick up the sword Michail had dropped.

With a swoosh, I swung it lightly once and checked the finish of the blade back and front.

Michail's sword, containing countless efforts evident from the fingerprint on the hilt, was one of Michail's treasures as per the novel. It was said to be a sword given by the nun who raised Michail. This very sword, his most cherished one, had shaped him into who he is now.

Gritting his teeth, Michail spoke to me.

"Don't touch it with your filthy hands."

"I washed my hands, though."

"Don't touch it!"

Ignoring Michail's words, I closely observed the sword.

"It's a fine sword."

A lie. Because I knew the story behind the sword.

A cheap, heavy sword with its center of gravity all over the place. A sword that could be easily bought in the market for one gold, but a weapon infinitely precious to Michail, that much I was well aware of.

Michail surely knows it too. After having used hundreds of swords, Michail wouldn't be ignorant of a sword's quality.

Because this sword was a gift from the nun who made him into the fool who knows nothing but justice, I couldn't tell him off easily.

Lightly swinging the sword, I spoke to the gasping Michail.

"You should learn aura quickly. That way, you can use this sword for a long time."

Michail said nothing, silently watching me with eyes filled with unease, wondering why I would say such a thing.

As a reincarnate, I added a piece of advice.

"It seems like it will break soon You'd better hurry."

There's something I've realized while dealing with Michail today.

It wasn't the absence of mentorship that hadn't progressed Michail's skill with the sword; it was because I had been too lenient with him.

Problems he should have encountered during the first semester.

Attacks by heretics.

The betrayal of friends.

Even the young lady's madness.

I came to the late realization that Michail's growth had been slowed down because I had unduly diminished the troubles he had to face. If this continues, not only would this event fail, but he might even suffer a premature death at the hands of Pascal.

For the sake of a peaceful reincarnation life, I thought it time to step back from the tribulations that Michail must face.

I let out a deep sigh.

"I'll hit you just one more time, last time."

***

Rough breathing is heard.

Michail, lying on the ground, stares up at the sky. His expression was a mix of different emotions. It seemed he was resentful and sorrowful, never once reaching his goal and being brutally trodden on.

I sighed deeply and sat next to Michail.

"Michail."

"Haven't you mocked me enough already?"

"No. I plan to tease you for a lifetime."

Michail's expression turned to one of despair. Watching him deeply exhale and cover his eyes with his hand, I felt pity for him, but even this was nothing compared to the tragedy that would occur later.

Yuria will continue to meddle.

And Michail will need to adjust to that meddlesomeness.

Because I feel both disdain and guilt for him, I looked up at the same sky Michail was watching and spoke in a low voice.

"Embarrassing, isn't it?"

"No."

"Ah you're lying."

Silence persisted.

As the sentiment of dawn approached, I blurted out an embarrassing statement to Michail.

"You hate us, don't you, Michail?"

"..."

"I hate you too, Michail."

Ignoring the silent Michail, I continued to speak to myself. If not now, I felt like I'd never be able to say these things.

"You're handsome, popular, and hogging all the love letters do you know how much I hate you?"

"I am-"

"Shh. I'm having a serious conversation. Be quiet and listen."

I denied Michail's attempt to respond.

A loser should listen to the winner.

If Michail retorted here, I felt like I might knock him out. I silenced Michail.

The air of dawn was nice.

It cooled a tight and stifled heart.

The young lady is likely asleep with her window wide open.

If Im too late, she might become a frozen noble. Thus, I dusted off my dirtied rear and helped Michail up.

"See. I know I'm a bad guy. If words don't work, I resolve with violence, if I lack money, I pick pockets as if I've just stolen Michail's wallet."

Michail rummaged through his trouser pocket. With his pockets empty, Michail muttered bastard' softly and exhaled a sigh.

"There wasn't much money anyway. If a famous figure of the empire spends so little, what are we bad people supposed to live on?"

"..."

"It's a joke."

Now would be the real end.

The encounters between Michail and me.

I decided to step back from Michail's trials.

Any more interference could render me powerless to help.

Even if I don't pay direct attention to the storyline, I might occasionally help, but I planned to refrain from meddling as I did during our Academy days.

Being the subject of heretics' interest can be exhausting.

Therefore, I gave one last earnest piece of advice.

"Don't stick your nose into affairs that aren't your own."

"It's not meddling"

"It's earnest advice from me."

For you might get hurt badly.

"Just remember what I said, please."

It was advice from someone who knew the original story.

***

Leaving Michail in the alley, I headed home.

As I saw the young ladys window, wide open even at this time of night, my steps quickened.

Thinking of the young lady who would not listen no matter how often I told her, a smile formed on my lips. I decided not to give her chocolate in the morning and moved my heavy feet a bit faster.

Passing the wall and reaching the entrance to the mansion.

A familiar voice reached out from the second floor of the mansion at a time when it shouldn't be heard.

"Ricardo!!!!"

With a choking voice, the young lady shouted at me.

The young lady calling out to me, waving her hand.

Just as my heart felt like it was sinking,

The words coming from the young lady's mouth alleviated my troubled heart.

"There's a cockroach!!! Wahhhhh!!!!"

"Yikes! I need to flee!"

"Aaaaahhhhh!!!!"

I will do anything to protect this life.