Chapter 70
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 70
Chapter Title: Bad Fate
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A festival was suddenly being held, drawing outsiders flooding into the capital.
The capital was vast.
That meant it could accommodate the crowds, but security took a hit.
The denser the people, the more unexpected accidents cropped up.
Of course, things had been fine until yesterday.
Yesterday, there had only been a lame apprentice adventurer tournament and preliminaries for same-rank adventurers, and the festival hadn't even properly kicked off.
Temporary festival buildings weren't up yet, and preparations were lacking in all sorts of ways.
But overnight, the festival prep was nearly done, finally giving it some shape.
And so, from this morning, outsiders had been pouring into the capital.
The reaction from people I had no ties with was...
"Ugh..."
My shoulder got shoved hard.
The force of an adult man shoving with intent was stronger than expected, and since I wasn't braced for it, I toppled over.
I got back up and adjusted my sunglasses.
The man who'd shoved me glared down with a vicious scowl, spat on the ground with a ptui, and walked off.
I wanted to chase him down and get revenge for the sudden hassle, but it wasn't just one or two guys doing this.
Today, half the people I passed were picking fights with me.
I could chase down one or two for payback, but when it hit five or more, it got seriously troublesome.
"The buff makes this big a difference?"
I'd already confirmed that ties formed under "Good Fate" didn't suddenly vanish.
But for new people I met from now on, their reactions were...
It'd be a lie to say I hadn't expected it, but there was a limit to how much I could've foreseen.
"Haa..."
Back when I'd first been abandoned in this world.
I'd been a filthy little girl.
Dirty, useless, and with a rotten attitude to boot.
So, I was despised.
Looking back now, the old man who accepted someone like that was truly special in this world.
Thanks to him, I shed that filthy state.
The thick disgust aimed at me lightened just a bit.
To be precise, I'd originally been "just disgusting."
But people are sly by nature—they come up with excuses when they want to do something wrong.
So, instead of "just," they made up their own reasons, shoving "because you're dirty" as one of the justifications for hating me.
But with Grandpa's help, I got clean.
Most people, once their excuse vanishes, dream up a new one and keep hating for different reasons. But a rare few stop hating when their reason disappears.
This was what I'd pieced together over months of enduring hateful stares.
The conclusion from pondering why I was hated without reason.
Then, when I left Grandpa's side to become an adventurer.
By then, I'd gained some ability.
I figured out my Silent Steps trait, used it for advantages, and overcame things that seemed impossible.
I didn't have any specially strong power, but I could pull my weight as one person.
So, I stopped being hated for lacking ability.
One by one, the reasons for people hating me were vanishing.
Good luck, and my own efforts, probably.
Starting point was miserable, but things were improving bit by bit—maybe that's why I felt a bit proud.
Situations were always bad, troubles always unfair, but still better than the beginning.
But what was this situation now?
I couldn't find a reason for the hate.
The disgust and hostility pouring at me now was baseless, just "for no reason."
Shoved without reason, stepped on without reason.
Cursed without reason, spat on without reason.
Hit without reason, ignored without reason.
Baseless hostility and disgust rained down on me.
It was weird.
"...It wasn't weird to have the buff—it was weird they weren't acting like this without it."
No matter how disgusting I was, they'd at least make up a reason.
Strangers hating me for absolutely nothing.
Back when I was just scraping by day to day with no slack, I might've missed it. But now, with some breathing room, this felt downright eerie.
I brushed off my butt and grumbled as I stood.
This situation was anything but normal.
"They want to see me groveling or something."
Things were finally getting decent, and bam—something like this hits out of nowhere. It reeked of intent.
Sticky malice clung to the air.
Even with sunglasses on, at this rate, taking them off might get me pelted with stones.
I sighed, and at the same time felt the air tear—a sharp whoosh. I whipped around and dodged; a stone grazed past my ear.
I glanced toward where it came from. Kids I'd never seen were giggling among themselves before vanishing into the crowd.
The stone missed me and hit some innocent bystander, who spat curses.
Our eyes met.
Luckily, he was someone from the capital with ties to me.
The guy Marcel had beaten half to death.
He met my gaze, dropped his eyes to the ground without a word, and bolted.
"Ha."
What a spectacle the world had become.
Plans to buy festival food, watch the same-rank tournament, kill time casually, and head to sword practice as dusk fell—all went sideways from the start.
Couldn't wander for snacks without getting stoned, so I gave up regretfully and headed straight for the same-rank tournament venue.
The same-rank prelims lasted four days.
Same-rank adventurers made up the bulk of the guild, so even after weeding them out in prelims, there were just too many.
"Once same-rank ends, silver-rank starts right away..."
I trained by brute force since I lacked talent, but that didn't mean I could slack on observing.
Gauging experts' levels, seeing how they fought, imagining what I'd do—it'd help a ton.
Not my idea—Shan recommended it.
"Tournament grounds have the tightest security, so they won't pull street bullshit there."
I was still disgusting, sure, but they'd have to mind the crowd anyway.
The arena I reached was massively grander than the shabby one I'd stood in.
A three-story coliseum repurposed for the event.
Made my dirt-lot matches look pathetic.
Not much hype for same-rank, apparently.
First match was about to start, yet it wasn't packed.
First floor full, second half-full, third had just two people.
Commoners on first, elites on second, nobles from third up—so same-rank didn't draw nobility.
The starting announcement must've wrapped before I arrived; the match kicked off right away.
Doors at each end opened; two guys stepped out into the arena.
Faces I'd passed once or twice, never chatted with.
Spear and mace users.
Their auras got swallowed by the crowd's heat, but honestly, they looked mediocre.
No proof, but my gut said the old man I'd fought was way stronger.
And my hunch was spot on.
They fought hard, but the mace guy ate an attack I could've dodged—his side got pierced.
Blood sprayed, soaking the arena.
Cheers erupted; the winner basked in victory over checking the loser.
The downed same-rank adventurer rolled screaming, but he'd live.
Tournament rule: silver-ranks got full temple healing, same-ranks half off.
If they couldn't pay even that, tough luck—die. Not my problem.
I'd adapted to this world plenty by now.
Signing up meant risking life anyway—no pity needed.
"...Just a few months."
Less than a year since being dumped here, clawing to survive.
Short time.
Yet in that blink, I'd changed too much.
Never killed so much as a chicken, now treating human lives like ants.
Self-loathing hit, but it faded quick.
I knew better than anyone: unchanged, I'd be dead long ago.
My heart got scarred.
Scars festered, rotted. But I didn't die, so they healed, scabbed over.
Then same wound again.
Repeat endlessly; layers of scar tissue buried my old feelings so deep, even their shapes blurred.
"Tch."
Got sentimental.
Shitty fight quality made my thoughts wander weird places.
Matches continued.
A few bouts in, one guy didn't dodge a hammer smash—skull exploded, blood, brains, eyes, chunks flying everywhere.
Stomach churned.
Half the crowd freaked; the other half cheered the winner.
What a mad world.
Arena floor was a red mess now; hard to find clean spots.
Last match of the day was up—and chills hit me.
Unexplainable dread.
I stood.
I didn't know why she was in a same-rank prelim, but instinct screamed: get out now.
Meeting adventurers, my first thought was always the same.
Can I win?
Estimate, simulate fights in my head over and over.
With Shan first time, Marcel first time.
Differed only in how quick I gave up; the thought itself was constant.
But with this woman, not even that.
No dice popup meant no big incident, but tangling with her? Zero upside.
My instincts were screaming it.
Cold sweat beaded; I wiped it with my hand and bolted from the arena.
Her clothes, cloak on shoulders, rapier in hand.
All high-end gear.
Silver hair, red eyes—textbook albino. Our brief eye contact: emptier than mine.
"Not someone active in the capital..."
Striking features—you'd never forget after one look.
Yet unfamiliar.
Maybe guild-assigned elsewhere, just back. Or from out of town.
Either way, new face. With "Good Fate" gone, no desire to cross paths.
I quickened my pace to the inn.
Then a voice called.
"Why run?"
"...Pardon?"
A low, husky voice.
I stiffly turned to look back.
The silver-haired woman stared down, drenched in fresh blood.
Her red eyes weren't beautiful or pretty.
Like congealed blood reflecting in clear pupils.
Just terrifying.
"You ran the second you saw me?"
Her lips curved softly in a smile, but her eyes weren't smiling at all.