Miss, stop committing suicide

Chapter 62

Just…

Everyone must be laughing at me.

“Look at that pathetic girl. She couldn’t even say a word back to that bug-like blackie and just ran away!”

No, wait—was it running away? It was, wasn’t it?

I don’t know anymore.

Confusion swirled in my head, and at the same time, my face flushed with shame.

I shouldn’t feel embarrassed. Yet, this feeling… maybe it’s sadness.

When I was being bullied, humiliated, and shamed, no one ever spared me a glance or cared about me. 

But the moment I taught that worthless woman her place, everyone condemned me. Even a filthy beast had the nerve to speak to me and shove me away.

That filthy hand dared—dared—to push me.

And I said nothing.

Because I couldn’t stand the way people looked at me. Because I was afraid of a mere slave holding a sword.

Well, it’s the same as always, isn’t it?

When I was locked in a locker, unable to stretch my legs, curled up in the dark, begging to be let out, some people laughed at me. They sneered and giggled, while Lydia added fuel to the fire.

This time, perhaps she changed her approach to bullying me. She used her own body to shame me.

She must have known that bastard would come my way.

Nothing’s really changed.

If my job had been a prostitute, I’d probably just laugh it off.

After all, they are laborers who sell laughter, bodies, and most importantly, their minds.

But I’m not a prostitute. So instead, I rage, struggle, and thrash to escape this situation.

If I hadn’t had that gun—if I hadn’t at least fired it into the door—Lydia would have humiliated me again, ripping my self-esteem to shreds.

“No one came to my aid, but the moment I try to do something, everyone stops me.”

The muscles in my face, which had been calm and expressionless until just now, suddenly twisted and trembled as if out of control, or perhaps due to my emotions.

I ran my palm down my face and began to take deep breaths.

On the table in the middle of the room sat a cup, and I poured warm water into it to calm myself.

Steam wafted upward.

I sprinkled finely ground tea leaves over the water, and once the color steeped properly, I drank it in one go.

Then, with a strange sense of familiarity, I threw the cup.

The sound of glass splitting in two echoed weakly.

Picking up one of the broken shards, I stared at my arm for a long time before shaking my head.

I tossed the shard far away.

Stepping out onto the balcony, I heard a faint shattering sound moments later.

A short scream followed—perhaps someone was passing below.

I laughed weakly, amused by the absurdity.

Then, I just collapsed into a heap.

As I clumsily placed my hand on the spot where the glass had shattered earlier, I accidentally scraped myself.

The shard was large enough that it didn’t pierce my skin but merely grazed it.

I picked up the remaining shards and threw them off the balcony as well.

This time, instead of flying far away, the glass broke against the balcony’s edge with a sharp clang.

“Nothing works.”

With trembling hands, I lit the cigarette I had earlier pressed against Lydia’s skin and took a deep drag.

The problem is me.

The problem is that I’m still alive.

That I’m breathing, living day by day, displeases the heavens above.

It’s not like I did anything to deserve such hatred.

A bitter taste rose in my mouth.

I craved something sweet.

***

Checking the clock, I realized half an hour had passed.

I grabbed one of the two remaining gold coins in my drawer and left my room.

Opening the door, which still had two bullet holes in it, I was greeted by the sight of Lydia’s blood and filth, still uncleared from the floor.

Wrinkling my nose at the unpleasant smell and disgusting sight, I silently cursed the lazy maids and clicked my tongue.

To my right, a group of people whispered and glanced at me as I emerged.

They must be onlookers who heard about the commotion earlier and came to gawk.

Some faces were even familiar.

I didn’t need to hear what they were saying to guess—it wasn’t anything good, judging by the sneering looks they gave me.

These people who once couldn’t even meet my gaze now pointed and mocked me openly. I couldn’t even argue back.

I thought I’d grown used to it, but every time, it felt new.

So many ridiculous people:

The arms dealer’s son, who sells shovels, scythes, and enchanted swords under the guise of “peace,” yet sharpens his blades for war.

The noblewoman, whose family drags eastern women to brothels and men to fields for hard labor, yet thinks herself superior.

The noble student, who loudly condemns magic while boasting that her family’s power comes from sorcery.

The hypocrite who claims to believe in the equality of all, while exploiting the workers in her own lands like dogs.

All of them were barbarians compared to the Mecklenburg family—uncivilized and ignorant.

The Emperor should’ve cut down all the nobles and governed the lands directly instead of forcing all his children into this academy.

I hated this feudal-centralized hybrid system.

Stupid nobles dared to talk to me as if we were equals.

Not that my opinions mattered anymore. My foundation crumbled long ago.

They laugh at my downfall, mock me, and praise their own morality.

Those worms, ignorant of their own wretchedness, point fingers at me.

My hands started trembling again.

But no—I didn’t pull out my gun and start shooting wildly. That’s what weak-willed fools who’ve lost their minds in trenches do.

“Just until Vivian gets here. Just until Vivian gets here.”

I muttered to myself as I glared at them for a long moment before turning away.

Even from a distance, I could still hear their laughter.

Should I assume I’ve gone mad, flee the academy, and run away to the capital?

The gates to the north, south, east, and west are all guarded by soldiers. There’s no way I could escape.

If I begged some underworld thug in the back alleys, offering what little money I had, they’d probably pocket the coin, drag me back, and throw me into a brothel.

They’d cut my Achilles tendons to make sure I couldn’t escape.

A prostitute doesn’t need legs to walk, after all.

And with this face? Finding a normal job anywhere would be impossible.

My face is only slightly overshadowed by Vivian’s brilliance, but it’s still beautiful, elegant, and well-bred—clearly a face that belongs to someone who’s lived well.

I thought I’d discarded all these thoughts long ago, but I guess not.

Well, to survive, what wouldn’t I do?

My thoughts are just trapped in this narrow range.

I keep coming back to the same things. I keep buying the same things from the same shop.

And when I encounter the Crown Prince near the shop again, I realize how narrow my world truly is.

As usual, the Crown Prince speaks to me.

“You caused quite the uproar earlier.”

He stood at the counter and casually tossed money to the clerk.

Then, he picked up a box of cigarettes from the back of the store and handed it to me.

Knowing full well he wouldn’t take no for an answer, I silently accepted the box he handed over and turned to leave.

That’s when something grabbed my shoulder.

When I turned around, it wasn’t the Crown Prince—it was the shadow that followed him, holding me in place.

“Let’s move somewhere else.”

He spoke in a tone that left no room for refusal and led me away without waiting for a response.

Well, “led” isn’t quite right.

It’s more accurate to say he kidnapped me to the pond where the koi fish were kept.

I had tried to resist, refusing to take even a single step, but the shadow dragged me along as if it was nothing. So, yes—kidnapped seems like the right word.

“Aren’t you going to smoke?”

He gestured at the cigarette in my hand as he asked.

I frowned slightly, opened the box, and placed a cigarette between my lips.

After lighting it, I inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill my lungs.

“At your age, acting so recklessly—you never know when your life might be cut short. Why don’t you show a little restraint?”

“Who knows? It feels like my life’s been cut short several times already. Seems like I’ve got a lot of strings to spare.”

He chuckled, seemingly dismissing my words as nonsense.

“Well, in any case, you seem to have grown up quite foolishly. But remember this:

In this thriving Imperial City, there are far too many who’ve met tragic ends at the hands of sinister groups in the back alleys.”

Hearing his drivel, I instinctively reached for my gun.

“Better watch your hands too.”

And just like last time, my hand fell away.

It wasn’t severed or anything. It just… fell, landing on the ground with a dull thud.

What should I call it?

It was…

Powerless.