Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Forgive Me Because I'm Pitiful
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People aren't born equal.
I belonged to the generation that learned that fact in the cruelest way possible.
Ironically, my very first memory—when I was just eight years old.
Summer cicadas were still chirping outside the classroom window, but inside me, everything had frozen over like midwinter.
"Hey, the gangster's wife is walking by!"
"Eww, just looking at her is scary~!"
"Kyaa, run away~! She's gonna eat us~!"
I hadn't done anything wrong.
It was just because I was a little chubbier than the others, a bit bigger in build—that was the only reason.
Yet in the eyes of the other kids, I was always a "monster," a "freak."
Even just sitting next to a classmate, the word that always whispered in my ear was the same.
Gangster's wife.
The most brutal taunt that circulated among elementary school kids.
A name stuck only on fat, thick girls who didn't seem like girls at all.
And that name was always mine.
"Hey, look at your eyebrows—they're totally thug-like."
"A walking monster, haha!"
The mockery sliced in like knife blades, and I just huddled up inside myself.
Arguing back would only bring sneers of "Just like a gangster's wife."
The stigma that started in elementary school followed me through middle and high school without fading.
The nickname changed a little over time, but the essence stayed the same.
I was always the monster, and everyone believed it.
So I thought to myself.
'The problem isn't me—it's this fucked-up world. I didn't choose to be born like this, so how dare they treat me like a monster?'
Rage always rose to choke me, blocking my breath.
That thought was my only comfort in those moments, but it seeped in like poison, eating away at me.
And... eventually, that day came.
My second year of high school.
The day I finally couldn't take it anymore and hung from the rooftop railing.
The rooftop of our rundown apartment building was blocked by a creaky iron door, and the world below was nothing but dirty, worn-out power lines and alley trash.
I was about to throw myself over.
But then.
"Become a Magical Girl! In return, I'll grant any one wish you desire!"
A voice so clear it pierced my ears.
When I looked up, a small, sparkling pink creature descended from the sky, glowing brightly.
Unnaturally cute, and that cuteness felt eerily unreal.
"...A wish?"
A tiny hand extended toward me.
It was unbelievably absurd, but at the same time, I could feel it clearly.
This was my one and only chance.
My feet dangled in the air for a moment. My heart pounded like it would burst, and my mind went blank.
Even in the face of death, I couldn't let go.
I wanted to hold on instead.
If I was going to die anyway, I figured I'd flail one last time.
So I wished.
Not for people to run away screaming at the sight of me, but for a face so overwhelmingly beautiful that they'd beg to hold my hand.
Someone might have scoffed at that.
"Isn't that a pretty cheap wish?"
And I would have shot back.
"Shut your fucking mouth. It's not cheap—it's my entire life. Bullshit like that is only spouted by people who already have everything."
I was born in a shitty basement apartment.
In winter, to save on heating, I'd shiver under two blankets in a room where my breath came out white.
In summer, cockroaches swarmed every corner of the ceiling.
Damp walls always reeked of mold, clinging to me like my own breath.
Meals were 1+1 frozen junk food or cheap ramen.
Filling up on that crap naturally made me gain weight, puff up my face, and with all cheap clothes, it only made my body stand out more.
I wasn't smart either.
In a family that couldn't even afford cram school or a single reference book, what could I expect?
So my grades scraped the bottom, and my future was blocked like a narrow alley.
...So it's not all my fault, right?
It's even funnier that the world mocks me after putting me in this state.
For someone like me to suddenly become a Magical Girl—and gain beauty on top of that?
That wasn't cheap; it was the one chance to uproot my entire life.
Only people who already had everything could say crap like that.
Kids who sucked their parents dry to go to fancy universities, carrying designer bags, whining that a wish was "too trivial."
That day, I took the hand of that cute little devil.
And I was reborn.
Magical Girl Bella.
The most hated monster in the world became an idol-like beauty everyone envied overnight.
From that moment, my life turned rainbow-colored.
The next day at school, kids who saw the peerless beauty I'd become doubted their eyes.
The girls who'd mocked me as their punching bag froze, their eyes scanning me up and down.
Jealousy sharpened their gazes, but they'd sidle up slyly and mutter, "Let's hang out together."
Vicious glares mixed with forced smiles—it was hilarious.
The boys were different.
With their pants tenting, they ditched treating me like air and started wagging their tails like puppies at my every word.
One point from my finger, and they'd beat up some passing kid as my personal guard.
Even the teachers weren't immune.
A student with this face and figure smiling sweetly at them... swallowing hard over a girl young enough to be their daughter.
Thanks to that, grades were easy to fudge, and any slips in the office were smoothed over with magic.
But the most thrilling part was transforming.
In my glowing yellow dress as Magical Girl Bella, arriving at a subjugation site, hundreds, thousands of citizens cheered my name.
In that moment, I knew.
'Yeah. I'm chosen.'
But... that glory crumbled like a sandcastle in an instant.
"Wooow, it's the Magical Girls!"
"White Curie!"
"Blue Zamas!"
"And that yellow one... who's she? She's cute, but she's overshadowed by the other Prismatic Eight Magical Girls and hard to see."
I already knew.
That I wasn't the only Magical Girl.
But to be overshadowed like this, even after rising as a star and wishing for this beauty—it was unbearable to still be someone's underling.
Not just any underling, but a total nobody.
Not even treated as special, just a shadow.
'Even among Magical Girls... it's the same shit?'
I thought I'd live easy now.
Rule like a queen.
But reality? Treated like the baby every mission.
Main stage always went to the Prismatic Eight Magical Girls; I got cropped out of the frame in the corner.
Standing next to them, I felt like an ant.
Unnamed, trampled underfoot.
I'd clawed my way up wishing on a star... but those bitches were born into good families, grew up wanting for nothing, that's why they shone like this.
Plus, being pretty from the start, they probably wished for something grander. Living carefree as Magical Girls with full bellies.
Admiration turned to jealousy, jealousy slowly to rage.
And I realized.
No matter how my face and body changed, I was still me.
Still the gangster's wife, just a monster in new skin.
Not cut out to be in the spotlight.
By the time that sank in deep, my heart was empty like poison-soaked sludge.
Even with the Magical Girl title, all I got was pay barely double minimum wage.
On a day that reality made me tremble with fury.
"Wh-why...? Aren't we... comrades...?"
A bloodied Magical Girl collapsed at my feet like a lump of meat, gasping as she reached out a trembling hand.
I panted, but muttered coldly.
"...Shut up."
Fairy tales are all the same, right?
Prince and princess show up, villain gets taken down.
And always the same moral at the end.
Do bad things, get wracked with guilt, then a hero stops you.
Funny thing? That didn't happen to me at all.
First time killing a fellow Magical Girl, I figured I'd freak out a bit.
That senior whose name I barely remembered, always lording it over me—I tripped her into the Demon side on impulse and blasted her away.
Surprisingly, I was fine.
No heart exploding, no guilt whatsoever.
Breathing-level natural.
Yeah, I was still Magical Girl Bella.
And it even benefited me.
I snatched her spot right away.
A position that usually took months of grinding? I got it in one shot.
That's when I learned.
How to climb up, how to shine again.
Take out one of the bitches above every quarter, then wail loudest at the funeral.
People bought it every time. 'Poor Bella, lost another comrade.'
Pity's a free ladder.
Parents were the same.
What help were the shitty mom and dad who dumped me in that basement to be born?
If birthing me was a crime, they weren't a blessing—just dead weight dragging my ankle.
Better to lighten the load since they were useless anyway.
Plus, solo-killing the higher-ups would eventually draw suspicion.
That's when a Villain sniffed me out and approached.
Parents were perfect.
First test run with the Villains, a safe guinea pig.
If Villains did it instead of me, easier to pass as accident.
Imagining them buried under collapsed bricks in the burning basement made me laugh.
The shitty hole I was born in now my stage to rise.
The plan rolled smoothly.
Midnight, Villain attack disguised as fire.
Next morning, short news blurb in the corner.
'Tragic accident.'
I knelt at the scene, howling like the world's most pitiful actor, voice tearing out.
People fell for the tears, showering me with sympathy.
The result? I became the 'tragic Magical Girl who lost her family to Villains' overnight.
Ironic, huh?
The parents who shoved me in that shitty basement in life finally gave my biggest boost in death.
People saw me as nobler, holier.
Funny—those who crushed me paved my path to the top even at the end.
That's when I knew.
Teaming with Villains made climbing way smoother than going solo.
Justice and evil? Give me a break.
That's how the world works.
People pitied me more, exalted me higher.
Funny— it paved my path again.
And in just three years.
I claimed a Prismatic Eight seat.
Warrior of Light, Yellow Bella.
Normally, you'd crumble under guilt, tormented by conscience, kneel to a hero.
But not me.
I just climbed.
Stepped on them, killed them, pretended to cry, then smiled sweetly.