Miss, stop committing suicide

Chapter 64

The sharp recoil jolted through my arm as if something had exploded in the air, the shards of metal slicing forward.

This could only mean one thing.

The bullet had been fired.

That shadow—was it truly human, or was it some flawless machine?

I think it’s the former.

If it were some conditional magic or a spell, there’s no way Johannes would have been hit by the bullet I fired.

But he was.

I was sure of it.

The faint scream that followed after the bullet was released confirmed it.

If not… I might feel despair.

If I’d gone through all the effort of tearing a hole in my own throat, dragging myself up, and turning the gun on him, only to have it fail, it would mean there was no way left in this world to deal with Johannes.

So rather than just hoping I hit him, I would believe it with certainty.

“Grgh…”

I hadn’t even confirmed the truth yet, but just imagining it made a wave of emotion surge up within me.

A slight sense of triumph welled up, and I tried to speak, but the only sound I could produce was the wet gurgle of blood.

My throat must have been gushing blood like a fountain.

Every slight movement of my body came with a squelch, and my clothes felt heavier and wetter.

Of course, when I looked down, dizziness and fatigue swept over me. My vision was filled with the countless trails of blood that had spilled.

The white clothes I wore were now so thoroughly dyed red that calling them white would be a cruel joke.

I must have hit something vital.

My vision blurred.

Still, I desperately wanted to confirm Johannes’ condition.

Even while my body poured blood, I forced every ounce of strength I had left to lift myself off the ground.

If you ask whether it hurts… It hurts terribly.

But I needed someone to curse.

Someone to pour all my hatred, resentment, and anger into—even at the cost of my life.

I could never bring myself to feel that way toward Evan.

Whether it was something etched into my blood or the time we’d spent together as Erica, I couldn’t muster hatred strong enough to want to kill him.

All I could feel was resentment: Why did you abandon me? Why didn’t you care about me?

…As for Vivian, I didn’t even dare to look up at her.

If Johannes ever tried to harm Vivian, a meteor might crash down on his head, killing him in the most absurd way imaginable.

That’s the kind of world this is.

Even if the Empire is mighty, if it ever tried to kill Vivian as it’s trying to kill me now, she’d either destroy it herself or watch it collapse.

In the end, it all comes back to Johannes.

If only he didn’t exist, I might be able to survive and even escape far away from Vivian’s reach.

People need a goal—a reason to drive them forward.

Even negative emotions, as unpleasant as they are, can serve that purpose.

Clearing my spinning thoughts, I forced my body to rise.

Reaching out with one arm to steady myself, I faltered as my strength gave out momentarily, but I pressed on, finding my footing.

When I finally stood upright, the sight before me was… glorious.

Johannes was clutching his right eye, blood streaming from it.

A magnificent scene, truly.

“Argh… ugh… damn it. How long has it been since I’ve felt pain like this?”

As I staggered closer, Johannes gripped his eye and clutched the floor, trembling.

“If you’re so worried about your head… I can put a bullet in it for you right now.”

I wanted to say it, but the bubbling sound of blood rising in my throat drowned my voice. I shook my head to regain focus and continued toward him.

When I was close enough, I raised the gun with my trembling left hand, aiming at the Crown Prince, who was still gripping his eye and stumbling.

Unconsciously, a smile crept onto my lips.

Like a worm wriggling away, he clutched his eye with one hand and crawled backward, trying to escape from me.

But even with his pitiful attempts to flee, I was too weak to catch up. It felt like a chase between fools.

With a sigh, I aimed as best I could and pulled the trigger.

“Argh!”

The sharp explosion of the gun echoed again, and the bullet hit him.

I could tell because his body writhed violently.

My vision blurred even more.

Shapes and figures became indistinct—just faint outlines.

I could feel myself nearing collapse, and I fired every remaining bullet in the gun.

The magazine was empty.

I needed to reload, but I hadn’t brought more bullets.

Sinking to the ground, I cursed my useless body, writhing as I tried to get up again.

Of course, I couldn’t.

For what felt like an eternity, Johannes and I both lay there, unmoving, struggling to do anything.

When time had passed—how much, I couldn’t say—I felt myself fading. I had lost so much blood that I began to drift into a fog of unconsciousness, the thought of death growing ever closer.

That’s when I heard his voice.

“…Tch. Leaving a dangerous individual like this while focusing on healing myself first… If that bullet had hit my head, what then? What were these fools thinking, making decisions on their own?”

Johannes muttered in frustration as he started prodding the floor.

Suddenly, the ground was soaked with something black, spreading ominously.

I didn’t care to know what it was. It disgusted me.

“Haha… hah… hah…”

I watched Johannes moving and talking, alive and whole, and wanted to scream. But my drained body couldn’t muster the strength.

“Thank goodness for the soundproofing spell.

Even my older sister couldn’t touch my head last time, yet here we are—a near-successful assassination. Isn’t that something to lament?”

More than lamenting, I felt overwhelmed with awe at the fact that I had managed to hit him at all.

I’d thought he’d be untouchable.

The far-off figure of Evan came into view, clear and vivid, even as Johannes blurred before me.

Evan was clutching his hands tightly, so tightly that blood dripped from them. 

His wrists bore dark marks, almost like tattoos—perhaps from something binding him.

Blood trickled down his lips, which he had bitten in frustration, and tears of blood from his eyes mixed with the red streaks on his face.

He seemed to mouth the words, over and over: I’ll save you. I’ll save you.

If he was so pained and angry, why didn’t he just come save me now?

But what could he possibly do?

If he did save me, he’d be a prince on a white horse, wouldn’t he?

If you save me, I can’t promise a princess’s kiss, but a lady’s gratitude should suffice.

Please… save me.

I looked at Evan, ignoring the faint warmth of affection that welled up inside me. 

Meanwhile, Johannes let out a sinister chuckle, grabbed my chin, and turned my face this way and that as if inspecting me.

I could feel the hole in my neck slowly closing.

“Throwing you to my lustful cousin would be such a waste.”

My blurred vision gradually began to clear.

The dull ache in my body and the pounding in my head also started to fade.

And just as my mind began to clear, it spun wildly again.

Johannes, his face twisted with rage, clenched his fist and started beating me furiously.

Blow after blow landed on me, leaving only pain behind, but my body kept healing itself.

The agony of that relentless cycle made me feel like I was losing my mind.

He kept hitting me for a long time, then paused, rolled his wrist, and gathered all his strength for one final punch to my face.

I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks as I thought, When will this end? When will I finally die?

“Indeed, they say the mad are cured with beatings.

It’s good to see you crying—it means you’re still human.

If I ever lose the throne, perhaps I’ll make a decent physician managing lunatics in the countryside.”

I wanted nothing more than to stop hearing his nonsense.

“…Hah, I suppose I’ll let you live for now.

Let’s say you went mad after your family’s collapse, wandered off outside the academy, and simply disappeared.”

With those words, he ground his teeth audibly, seething.

All this fuss over being shot a couple of times.

As he spoke, the shadow at his feet, soaked in black water, grabbed hold of me and began dragging me toward where Johannes stood.

Resistance was futile.

I couldn’t run, couldn’t fight back. I was dragged helplessly into some unknown space beneath the Crown Prince’s domain.

The air reeked of blood and the metallic tang of rusted iron.

The room was filled with unnamed tools, bottles of potions, and rows of beds.

Among them, one stood out: a bed stained with dark red and black blood, looking grotesque and foreboding.

Floating clouds of black mist carried me to that ominous bed and laid me down.

That was the last thing I remembered before I was taken to the Imperial Palace.