The Adopted Princess Hopes to Escape the Genre - Chapter 5
“Cheap! It’s cheap!”
“Move aside, move! Can’t you see that people are passing through?”
“Oh my, this is really pretty.”
“Isn’t it? I think I’ll get one too; it’s not that expensive.”
“A carriage is coming! Everyone, make way!”
The sound of people talking and children running around echoed once again.
“Hah… ack. Cough, cough.”
Rising shakily to my feet, I touched my neck with trembling fingers. There was nothing there. It was as if nothing had happened, my neck perfectly unmarked.
The sensation of my neck being slit in that alley was still vivid, but I had no memory of any pain.
After being killed post-possession, there are usually two categories: some remember the feeling of death so clearly that they go mad from fear even after reviving. Others feel nothing at all, becoming almost addicted to death.
In my case, it was hard to say whether I fit either category—or maybe both. I could clearly remember the sensation, yet the pain itself had vanished from my memory.
As I ran my fingers over my still-intact neck, I thought about it. It didn’t hurt, but it was an unpleasant experience I never wanted to go through again.
Once the full awareness of being alive returned, a surge of anger welled up inside me.
“That ♬♪♩♩. I help him, and he repays me by putting a knife to my throat?”
What the hell.
“♬♪♩♩♪♪♬♪♩♪♬♪♩♪♬♪.”
Wait… are my curses being filtered right now? Could it be because this place is rated all-ages?
“This is such ♩♪♪♬♩♪♬♪♪♩♪♬♩♪♬.”
Screeech-
“What the—!”
In that moment, my collar was grabbed, and my body was lifted off the ground, only to be slammed back down.
“Ugh.”
A short pained sound escaped my mouth as the sudden impact hit me.
I’d been so preoccupied worrying about my neck that I forgot what would happen next.
“Didn’t you hear me say move? Do you know who’s riding in this carriage? A beggar like you has no right to block the way!”
“……”
“If you understand, get lost!”
The lines were exactly the same. Was this situation repeating itself? If so… it meant the same threats from earlier would repeat too, right?
Any second now, that man in the carriage would open the door and tell the driver to stop.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Let it be. The child likely didn’t mean to get in the way. Just let her go.”
Sure enough, it was exactly the same as before.
‘So… if I die, will I always return to this point?’
Lastly, in just a short moment, that man would lock eyes with me and immediately call me over.
Before his gaze could settle on me, I hastily grabbed the nearby strands of my hair and pulled them over my face.
With handfuls of dry, green hair covering me, I barely peeked out, glancing cautiously toward the carriage. Thankfully—or perhaps not—he hadn’t noticed me yet.
To ensure my escape, I attempted to change my voice.
“Well then, I’ll just be on my way.”
Backing away slowly, I moved out of the carriage’s line of sight and ran off in the opposite direction of the alley where I’d died the first time.
Behind me, I could hear someone shouting for me to stop, but it wasn’t my problem anymore.
* * *
This time, I ran toward the forest instead of the alley, avoiding any run-ins with that Jean Valjean wannabe who had slit my throat earlier.
‘Where do I go from here?’
If only I’d retained any memories from this body, I might have been able to figure something out. But no, not a single clue was left behind—it was as though the original owner of this body had vanished without a trace. I didn’t even have a place to sleep tonight or anything to eat….
At that thought, an overwhelming sense of hopelessness washed over me, and everything started to feel like a chore.
Right now, I just wanted to go home, bury myself under a blanket, and lie in bed listening to music.
I didn’t want to do anything, didn’t want to move, just wanted to lie there all day, doing absolutely nothing with even more enthusiasm.
Ah, why does even doing nothing have to be done with such enthusiasm?
