The Reason for My Reincarnation
She had carefully recalled the original game of this world.
It boasted a fairly enjoyable combat and leveling system, and the graphics were far superior to anything dot-based! The character illustrations were fluid and beautiful.
The story was straightforward, with no unnecessary twists. It was a package game worth trying at some point for fans of turn-based RPGs. Sugar had decided to purchase it after the magic school game from her previous life’s childhood resurfaced in her mind.
Right after its release, the related community site had been bustling with activity.
She recalled a post she had once written there.
In that gathering place where people casually chatted about the game, shared information, uploaded fan creations, or simply caused trouble, she had thrown out a thoughtless comment as always.
“I want to torture the saintess.”
“I want to record the screams of the saintess losing one sense after another.”
“Why didn’t the cult cut off the limbs?”
She had written it because she enjoyed the fans of Sugar getting worked up. There were many things too vulgar to say outright. She had even written a villain fanfic in a second-creation contest where the protagonist was the villain and she played the role of a “torture lover” villain character.
With the reason for her reincarnation now clear, she had been reflecting on her past mistakes when a sudden sense of crisis struck her.
Right now, the person more dangerous to me than the cult is that guy?
The villain she had once teased with hihi in her previous life.
If one were to pick the main villain group from the original work, it would be the Shadow Cult that Sugar belonged to.
However, there were villains who operated individually, and that was none other than the male student from the magic school—Ryly, the same as the protagonist.
He possessed a smooth appearance and a kind personality, winning the affection of both men and women without distinction. But in reality, he was a black-bellied villain who used monsters to mock the protagonist he hated, exploited those around him, and even manipulated the shady cult.
Having allied with the cult, they had merely been using each other, so their encounters had always felt like sparring matches.
The cult craved Ryly’s “Grimoire,” while Ryly sought the cult’s knowledge or the Evil God.
Eventually, the cult was defeated first—a misfortune brought about by the protagonist, who had diminished the cult’s forces.
At the story’s end, the black-bellied Ryly whose evil deeds had been exposed to all.
In his final act of desperation, he attempted to steal the saintess of the Shadow Cult—Sugar—and manifest the Evil God upon her body in a fiery move. He wanted to ruin the world, and since Sugar was already broken, he was the one Sugar wished to avoid, ranking second on her list.
At the very least, if she avoided the cult, the Evil God would never descend. But just in case. Since that guy ruined everyone he got entangled with, avoidance was the best course.
By the way, the number one spot was jointly held by all members of the Shadow Cult, claiming the glorious first place.
“It’s so hard to live…”
A sigh escaped her at the thought of having so many enemies.
While eating half the soup, saying such things, the boy sitting beside her gave her a displeased look.
“Why?”
The boy glanced at Sugar before turning his gaze away, as if unwilling to answer.
For three days after protecting the soup from the delinquents. Every meal time, the boy’s seat had become her fixed spot.
“Because of the soup? You don’t take it every time. You only take it in the morning—how generous.”
“…”
“At lunch and dinner, you don’t take any, yet you sit beside me watching over me. Think of it as protection money.”
She had spoken kindly, but the content was no different from illegal tolls collected by a ruffian. The boy drank the remaining half of his soup without replying and headed to the washroom. For Sugar, who had gained 1.5 servings of soup, it was ultimately fine.
After finishing her meal, Sugar immediately headed to the classroom bookshelf. It was little more than a children’s mini bookshelf. The contents were also pitifully sparse—books with pages torn out, half-ripped books, books that had gotten wet and could no longer be opened when dried, and so on.
Still, there was something intact: the newspaper from a few days ago. Adults occasionally inserted it here, and it was the only medium through which one could glimpse how the world turned in this wretched place.
Then what? It had been a sudden thought that had crossed her mind during breakfast.
What were those guys doing at this time?
The ones who had ranked on Sugar’s “avoid” list.
The original story timeline was still far away. Sugar’s kidnapping would occur when she turned fourteen, and at eleven, there was still time.
But given how troublesome they were, it was obvious they were causing trouble from now on. The cult was out of the question, and Ryly had even shown a scene in the work where he had committed murder from childhood.
So, she wanted to investigate what they might have done—whether serial murders or disappearances. It was important to gauge the enemy’s movements.
“Hmm.”
But it was strange.
She had seen someone inserting the newspaper into the bookshelf that morning, yet it had been sacrificed as paper airplanes for the children.
“It’s not here either…”
She had checked the baby room and the backyard, but there was nothing. She couldn’t just take one from the director’s room, and if caught, she would have to rely on the boy for three meals.
Then, her gaze suddenly turned to a place: the attic stairs located in a corner of the hallway.
Was that place always so clean? In her memory, it had always been dusty. A warehouse storing unused items. Yet again, it seemed clean from some point onward.
Following the stairs as if in a trance, Sugar finally laid eyes on the familiar boy. Sitting in a corner of the attic among the things, reading the newspaper, he looked up at Sugar blankly upon sensing her presence.
It was the answer. Sugar’s expression brightened.
“…What?”
She plopped down in front of the boy who clearly did not like her. Dust was hazy from the light filtering through the small window.
“I want to see it too. Tell me after you finish reading.”
Without waiting for the words, she handed over one page.
“Now go.”
Since you gave one, eat and go. But with only one, there was no choice. Moreover, this page only contained want ads or advertisements.
It was good, though. What, was there no name she knew?
Sugar unfolded the page while seated. There was plenty of dust, but it was cozy, so it was fine. She liked that there was no children’s noise—only the sound of pages rustling.
Even though the person in front who had invaded her personal space looked uncomfortable, but since it wasn’t anyone’s room, it was fine.
“…”
So reading.
Then, she saw the boy rolling his eyes and concentrating on the front. It was a shabby topic, yet he was eagerly searching for information. Remembering a memory from long ago, she stared fixedly, and the boy lowered the newspaper and met her eyes.
“…What is it?”
“Just. Since I was looking at it, my nephew came to mind.”
What kind of talk… orphans, nephews, and things that didn’t make sense had gathered.
“You stole your nephew’s food?”
“That’s that. I have to receive what I can receive.”
Once she had been a thoroughly rotten adult. Perhaps because of the incredulous answer, the boy put down the newspaper and stood up from his seat.
“You’re leaving already?”
“…I read it all.”
“Already? Is it really read? Wait, answer this.”
Suddenly, a childish mischievousness found a question in the newspaper quickly. An adult-like heart that wanted to tease the adult-like pretending kid.
“Hmm… This time, the plant that Pespa is going to supply to the imperial family?”
The boy who was about to go down the stairs turned around.
“Blue jasmine. And it’s not Pespa, it’s Nespa.”
As if to say what kind of thing was that. She looked at him pitifully.
She had deliberately said the family name wrong. Probably she had read it properly.
“Oh.”
And what came out was pure admiration.
The boy looked harder than herself by eye. What had she done at that age in her previous life. It had been natural to turn on MapleStory right after coming home. She hadn’t even looked at fairy tales, let alone newspapers.
But this little one had been diligently accumulating social knowledge in the terrible position of an orphan in the slums of modern fantasy. She couldn’t help but think it was praiseworthy.
“Come here.”
If you did well, what? She flicked her finger, but the boy just looked at her suspiciously.
If you don’t come, I’ll come. She stepped forward boldly, and he flinched.
Thud. Standing in front, the height difference was obvious, and the corners of her mouth lifted. From adults’ perspective, it was just measuring acorns, but to the person involved, it wasn’t. Sugar, who was shorter than her peers, secretly enjoyed the view of looking down and reached her hand to the boy’s head.
The boy’s eyes widened.
“Good. Good.”
Then, his eyes turned to slits.
“…”
“You already peeled off the letters. You can read even difficult newspapers. Amazing.”
Her brows furrowed. The expression showed what kind of feeling it was just to see.
Still, Sugar didn’t stop. The shabby dry brownish hair gave a rough feeling, but she didn’t stop. She was indebted for the soup. Originally it had ended as protection money, but since she was a child, it was service.
Small praise was important in this place full of failed adults. In this place where bullying and contempt were rampant, even among children, they should care about each other.
The young boy felt it was embarrassing and avoided the touch, going down the stairs without looking back.
This is precious.
Praise gets harder as you grow. Sugar clicked her tongue and picked up the newspaper on the floor.
Fortunately, there was no content worth paying attention to yet.
She hoped there wouldn’t be any in the future.