The Adopted Princess Hopes to Escape the Genre - Chapter 4
No, neither a childcare story nor a family-regret story was remotely close to the peaceful, serene life I wanted. If it were a childcare story, everyone around me would be determined to kill for my sake, and if it were a family-regret story, they’d be out to kill me instead. Either way, things would just get exhausting.
I was about to turn back the way I’d come, but someone came running from a distance and collided with me.
“Argh!”
I fell right on my backside, and, judging from the sharp pain in my shoulder, we’d collided harder than I thought.
I scowled and looked up, only to see the jerk who’d shoulder-checked me glance at me briefly before continuing on his way as if nothing had happened. He paused for a moment as if something was bothering him, then quickly took off, as if he were being chased.
What a rude jerk.
The suspicious guy disappeared down the opposite alley, and soon after, more people poured into the alley where I was still sitting.
“Hey, run and catch him!”
“He went this way!”
“Don’t let him get away!”
I dusted myself off and watched the people running past in a hurry.
They’re probably chasing that guy from before. Did he steal a loaf of bread or something?
Then, the person who seemed to be the leader gave instructions to his subordinates, turned his gaze toward me sitting on the ground, and asked,
“What’s this? Hey, you there. Did you see a kid wearing a robe? He must have come this way.”
‘That insolent Jean Valjean wannabe… Should I tell them where he went, or not?’
Judging by how these rough-looking guys were chasing him so fiercely, it didn’t seem like a minor offense. He probably wouldn’t come out of it unharmed if caught… Should I just spill everything?
No, no. Possessing a body without any information means I should live as righteously as possible, at least for now. Possessors have a high chance of even the smallest actions coming back as karmic payback.
‘Still, it’s seriously annoying that he didn’t even apologize after bumping into me.’
With nothing to go on and nothing to my name, my thoughts kept swinging back and forth like Jekyll and Hyde.
‘Ha. But still, my life is more important, right? Let’s just play it nice.’
Putting on the most innocent expression I could muster, I aimed for a look that screamed, “I don’t know anything,” and said to the man,
“I didn’t see clearly, but I think someone ran that way a little while ago.”
“If you’re lying, you won’t get away unscathed.”
Give them a tip, and they’re still unpleasant about it.
“Yes! Of course~.”
“Everyone, move quickly!”
“Take care~.”
Fall flat on your faces, for all I care.
The group disappeared in the direction I pointed.
I hope they get good and lost. Judging by how they treated me, they were chasing that kid with ill intentions, so I’d deliberately sent them the wrong way. If they end up wasting their time, it’s no skin off my back.
I dusted off my hands and was about to get up when a dark shadow suddenly fell over me from behind.
The cold touch of metal pressed against my neck, and my body froze instantly.
Before I could even process what was happening, I began trembling.
‘A sharp, cold blade… is this a knife?’
The moment my brain processed the situation, I felt as though all the blood drained from my body, and I went into a panic.
Isn’t it typical in possession stories that the protagonist stays calm and handles any situation smoothly?
No, wait. Typical? In what world would a normal person in the 21st century ever have a knife to their throat? Isn’t this the kind of thing that only happens in movies or dramas? Not even the crisis escape guides would cover what to do with a blade at your neck!
But in possession stories, stuff like this could happen all the ti… to hell with that!
I don’t want to die right after getting possessed!
I’m a regular 24-year-old exchange student, and there’s no way anyone could remain rational in a situation like this.
Sure, my mind is 24, but this body can’t be more than seven! What kind of twisted author would put a knife to a kid’s neck?!
My head was spinning, my thoughts tangled in a chaotic mess, making it impossible to think or react properly.
“Who are you?”
A cold voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“I said, who are you?”
“Uh… who am I, indeed?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
No. But honestly, I don’t know. Who on earth am I supposed to be?
“I’ll ask one more time. Who are you? If you tell me right now who sent you, it’ll be better for you.”
“Uh, well, f-first, please… calm down… and, um, lower the knife….”
I tried to wriggle free from his grasp, but his hold on my neck was firm, making it impossible to move. All I could manage was a slight twitching of my fingers.
Of course, my suggestion to resolve things through conversation didn’t work at all.
“Shut up. Just answer the question. Who are you? Why did you help me?”
…What? Is this guy that Jean Valjean wannabe from earlier? Seriously. He’s saying this because he thinks I helped him? What kind of twisted world is this?
“I… just thought… those people… didn’t… look very… kind… and… you seemed… to be… chased….”
“Who sent you?”
“……”
“I asked who sent you.”
I’d like to know that too—who on earth sent me here?
“Heh. So you’re going to keep your mouth shut until the end?”
After suddenly being possessed, running around trying to avoid death, being threatened by some lunatic, and all the exhaustion and stress from my assignment building up, I finally snapped.
Screw it. What am I supposed to do?
“Answer me! Who are you? Who sent you?”
“No…”
“Who sent you!”
“For ♪♬…! It’s god, okay? ♪♬! Are you even listening when someone’s ♪♬ talking? If you’re not gonna listen, why do you even—”
(TL Note: the ♪♬ characters are implied to be explicit words, please fill them in as you see fit! Try words you’ve never used before! Now’s the time!)
Shhhk—
Before I could finish, my body dropped helplessly to the ground.
And that was how I faced my first death.
