Chapter 1 - Let's Give It a Shot
Let's Give It a Shot
Translator : Elizabeth
Chapter 1. Let's Give It a Shot
It was an ordinary Sunday afternoon.
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Lying on the floor of my studio apartment, fiddling with my phone, I reflexively sat up at the voice that suddenly rang in my ears.
“…!”
I was definitely alone in the room. Yet, the voice was as clear as if someone had whispered right next to me.
At the same time, a scene flashed through my mind.
The image of a very beautiful woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her unrealistic beauty felt so vivid that I was forced to believe it was reality.
“Who… Who are you?”
No answer returned.
However, strangely enough, I wasn't afraid. My heart settled quietly, and a corner of my mind felt subtly warm. It was a development one would only see in novels or manhwa, but I had a conviction that this was not a dream.
<<There are those who practice false beliefs. Please, save them.>>
“False beliefs?”
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What I had recently taken an interest in….
I thought of the Tarot cards I had started studying via YouTube a few days ago. It was just a hobby to kill time.
“Is it like a cheat ability?”
After inadvertently spitting out the words, a laugh escaped me without my realizing it. An Isekai development suddenly crashing into a life that had been ordinary for over twenty years.
If this was real.
Honestly, there was no reason to refuse.
<<You could say that.>>
“Alright. Let’s give it a shot.”
At that moment, the world flipped white.
Whoosh—!
As I opened my eyes, a chilly wind slapped my cheek. The smell of dirt and a rotting stench mixed together, stinging my nose. I hurriedly picked myself up and looked around.
Buildings made of stone. Narrow, dark alleys. People clad in rags.
No matter where I looked, this was not the modern era.
“It’s a witch! A witch appeared out of thin air!”
Along with the shout, torches flickered. People were swarming toward me.
A witch?
Are they talking about me right now?
I ran instinctively. But it was strange. My body was excessively light, and my eye level was subtly different. Especially since something hanging from my chest was bouncing around, and it hurt like hell.
The body I looked down at while running was definitely not the one I knew.
I had breasts, my waist was slender, and long hair fluttered in the wind.
“What… is this.”
No, seriously, what the hell?
Even my voice was different. Instead of the low, familiar male sound, a clear, high-pitched female voice flowed out.
I stopped at the puddle at the end of the alley, seeing my reflection.
“…!”
What was reflected there was not the appearance I knew.
A perfect appearance, like a statue. Pale white skin, balanced features, and a mysterious atmosphere that lacked a sense of reality.
It overlapped exactly with the image that had flashed through my mind when I first heard that voice.
Except the color of the eyes and hair was black.
‘…Is this a body modeled after a god?’
I didn't even have time to finish the thought. People were already surrounding me.
Their gazes were a mixture of fear, anger, and a lust they didn't even try to hide.
“Look at that beauty, enough to bewitch a man! She is unmistakably a witch!”
A man approached. The moment his rough, dirty hand grasped my wrist.
“…Ugh!”
Images of Tarot cards poured down in my head like a waterfall. And at the same time, that man’s mind was read exactly as it was.
The first thing to appear was [THE DEVIL]. One who is shackled by desire; meaning he justifies his ugliness under the name of God.
Following that, the reversed [KNIGHT OF WANDS] overlapped. Impulsive and violent desire; a symbol of one who chases only pleasure without responsibility.
The last thing to flash was [SEVEN OF SWORDS]. Deception and plunder; a despicable mind that treats the opponent as an object, not a human.
All those cards pointed to a single conclusion. This man was not a believer, but a beast disguising his lust as faith.
When I realized that fact.
Bang! Pazzzt!
Poof!
It was close to a violent chemical reaction. Sparks flew from the man’s body, and white smoke rose up. And then, he turned into a pile of ash and collapsed right there.
No, it wasn't a pile of ash. What remained in that spot was too white to be ash.
“Cough!”
Part of the collapsed dust spread like smoke and entered my mouth.
I tasted saltiness.
Salt.
A living man had turned into salt.
“Aaaack!”
A scream burst out from somewhere. Terrified, I stepped back as well. My breath came in short gasps.
Did… I do this?
But the people didn't scatter. Rather, an excitement bordering on madness spread.
“She really is a witch! She used the power of Satan!”
“No, wait a minute…!”
There was no time to explain. The torches increased in number, and people's shouts filled the alley.
I started running again.
On the cold stone floor. I was abandoned in the darkness, bound in chains.
This was the 16th century. An era where witch hunts formed a madness.
‘The false beliefs the god spoke of. She was talking about this.’
Ironically, I couldn't save anyone. Far from saving people, I was the one branded a witch. Even just in the process of running away, the number of people who turned to salt and died exceeded dozens.
‘Well, it seems like they got what they deserved, but still.’
A power that automatically activated against those who touched me with impure hearts. It wasn't my will, but as a result, I became not a being that saved people, but something like a disaster that called forth death.
For several days, I saw hell.
In the square beyond the bars, trials were held every single day. They only bore the name of a trial; in reality, they were torture and slaughter.
Fingernails were pulled out, bones were broken, and skin was peeled off. The acts done to extract confessions were so bizarre it was hard to believe humans had thought of them. Screams echoed along the stone walls, day and night.
In the midst of that, there were those who came to find me.
It was the people in power. Having heard the rumors that a miracle of salt had occurred, it would have been difficult for them not to take an interest.
They wanted confirmation. Calling it confirmation was just words; it was simply an experiment.
Several men were pushed in front of me, constrained within the prison. They heard the sound of the iron door closing behind their backs without hearing any explanation.
A short while later.
Salt was scattered across the room.
The faces of the powerful hardened. Perhaps reminded of Sodom and Gomorrah, or Lot’s wife, their bloodless lips were so white they looked as if they had turned to salt themselves.
“Are you… a messenger of God?”
When a priest asked cautiously, images of Tarot cards floated in my mind.
[THE HIEROPHANT]. Faith and authority, but a card that becomes hypocrisy first when corrupted.
What overlapped next was [FIVE OF PENTACLES]. It meant one who serves God on the outside, but inside is filled with deficiency and fear.
I could read his mind. Inside him, there was more fear than faith, more self-preservation than reverence.
If I truly was a messenger of God, he was afraid his corruption and depravity would be revealed.
I briefly considered telling him the miracles I experienced and the truth. But soon, other cards emerged.
[SEVEN OF SWORDS]. Lies and deceit, one who steals the truth and changes it to suit his taste.
And [THE DEVIL]. The shackle that justifies desire by borrowing the name of God.
I kept my mouth shut. Because I knew that the truth here and now would not bring salvation, but only another sacrifice.
“Why are you silent?”
The priest's voice rang out again.
I raised my head. And asked quietly.
“Isn’t a conversation… something you do while looking at each other’s faces?”
Silence flowed for a moment.
Those standing before me were all covering their faces. The priest with a white cloth, the nobles with black masks. Their appearance, revealing only eyes and mouths, reminded me more of executioners than those who served God.
“What are you so afraid of?”
“….”
They did not answer.
Those standing before me were things that didn't even have the courage to admit their own sins.
Well, whatever.
I was at my limit, too.
Eventually, they confirmed me as a witch and set the execution date. However, before I could mount the stake, my body collapsed first.
It was starvation.
Since being dragged here, I hadn't had a proper meal even once. It was closer to their intention than a mistake.
The only ones who could suppress me were those who did not harbor impure hearts. The powerful vaguely noticed that condition. And….
They feared that fact more than anything.
There were people who did not turn to salt even after touching me. And they were generally good-natured people. Those who were merely following the orders of the powerful.
Perhaps they looked like beings qualified to reach God. They must have thought that if such people came into contact with me, their own sins might be conveyed to God later.
Just that one possibility made them unable to sleep at night. So they cut off all contact between me and people. Nobles, priests, even royalty—visitation was impossible.
Even the guards were stationed at a minimum on the perimeter. No approach beyond what was necessary was permitted.
The result is exactly this.
The deepest part of the prison.
In a spot where neither light nor people reached.
To be left alone and starve to death.
Darkness swallowed my vision.
“Ugh!”
I gasped for breath and sat up.
A familiar ceiling and a familiar room.
It was my studio apartment.
“Was it… a dream?”
Muttering that, I lowered my gaze, and that thought shattered into pieces.
Slender hands, white skin, graceful curves. The changed body remained as it was.
In the mirror, that face was still there. Only the black eyes and hair proved the existence of the former me.
“Ha, haha….”
Laughter leaked out with difficulty. But I was so thirsty.
“Ugh…!”
It felt like I was burning from the inside of my throat.
It came back to me instantly.
The prison. The starvation.
The emptiness I felt last, right before my consciousness cut off.
“…Ah.”
My body reacted first.
I stumbled and ran to the kitchen. As soon as I opened the refrigerator door, I grabbed everything in sight.
Cold rice, side dishes, leftover ramen noodles, bread. I didn't even think about cooking.
I picked it up with my hands and shoved it into my mouth. I swallowed without hardly chewing. Swallowed, and swallowed again.
I couldn't stop even if my throat got clogged. Even if my breath ran short, even if my stomach cramped painfully.
‘H-Hungry…!’
Only that one thought filled my head.
‘So, so much…!’
Tears fell. I buried my face in the food and ate while crying.
In the prison, in the darkness.
Those times when no one came overlapped with every sound of chewing.
I don't know how much time passed. When I came to my senses, I was sitting on the floor.
After wiping the traces of food that dirtied my upper clothes and mouth, I caught my breath for a moment and sat in front of the computer.
“Phew.”
Witch hunt. Salt. Miracle.
I searched the records, typing in words one by one.
At first, nothing came up.
Then, very trivial sentences caught my eye.
Compared to records of the same period, the trial documents of that region are abnormally missing.
There is a mention of a female detainee, but the name and charges remain blank.
No record of execution exists.
I held my breath while looking at the screen.
At that moment, images of Tarot cards quietly floated up.
[THE HIGH PRIESTESS]. Unrecorded truth, unspoken testimony. A card that is rather certain because it is not revealed on the surface.
Overlapping on top of that was [THE MOON]. Distorted records, incidents hidden in fear. Truths that people turned away from because they didn't want to see them.
One card slowly settled down last.
[TEN OF SWORDS]. A story that should have ended. But a conclusion that wasn't properly recorded because it was too cruel.
“….”
Looking at those images, I….
“Huh?”
I realized that the authority granted to me remained intact.