The Strange Young Lady

It was just another ordinary day when an email arrived.

The message was abrupt, offering a present out of nowhere as thanks. There was no proper recipient name, just a lone attachment that looked incredibly suspicious. This sort of thing could easily be a virus. Under no circumstances should anyone click on it.

Click.

[Would you like to download?]

[Yes]

I didn't click it recklessly. I gave it careful consideration first.

It's the author!

No matter how I looked at it, this had to be from the writer of the novel I'd been reading just days ago. The man known as BigHappyEndingMan loved browsing web novel sites. That day had been no different—he'd been exploring the free serialization section when he stumbled upon a low-ranking story. It wasn't even a gender-bender tale. It was a female protagonist story in the misery genre. The unusual tags had made him recoil at first, but then his eyes met the protagonist on the cover, and he'd decided to give it a try. The unique flavor had hooked him before he knew it.

The protagonist was the timid young lady of a count's household. Born as an illegitimate child, she had lived in the back alleys until her half-brother brought her into the noble mansion. What made it special was the narration style—it unfolded like a game's action log.

It felt like reading a princess-raising simulation game in novel form. I wasn't the player, but I could watch the protagonist through a player's eyes. I wondered how this child would grow up. Could she find happiness like the heroines in other girl-raising games? Would she reach the best endings—like becoming a queen or marrying a prince?

I ended up cheering for the protagonist every day as she endured everything while crying. Following her steps day by day, I finally reached the last chapter.

A hole opened in the sky, pouring down an incomprehensible light. People screamed and vomited blood. A power steeped in hatred slowly spread across homes, the capital, and the entire continent. Cream Hollybell had become the Blood Witch. Her journey, at this very moment...

......

—And so the world was destroyed.

(This is the final registered chapter.)

“...”

Tap. I hit the back button and returned to the novel's main screen, where a pitch-black “Completed” tag greeted me. Free serialization. Comments disabled. Donations closed.

Kraaaaaagh!!

It felt like my insides were on fire, but there was nothing I could do. Cream, unloved by her family or noble society, had eventually given up on the world, fallen to darkness, and become a witch. She was subjugated in the end, but the world—already broken beyond repair—fell into complete ruin. The ending was so wretched it made me furious. I wanted to stab the author, but who could break through that triple-layered shield? Frustrated that I could do nothing, I vented my anger on reader communities instead.

“What can a reader even do?”

“Eating this crap will give you indigestion, you idiot.”

“Fuck!”

Even that didn't ease my rage, so I sat down at my computer.

If you won't write it, I will.

It was the best motivation for writing. The man began his protest by writing a happy-ending parody of the original. He turned the protagonist into a saint who received endless head-pats and love from everyone, then poured his complaints toward the original author into the author's notes.

“-Don't you think you're being too harsh on the young protagonist? She gets beaten and ostracized every day with no supportive adult on her side, only to end in a destruction ending. This isn't even misery porn—there's no lesson, no emotion, no meaning. Just bring back the happy ending please and open the donation window ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠already.”

After suffering like that, when this email arrived, there was no way I could resist clicking it. I had wondered if the author had no human heart, but it seemed some conscience remained.

world.exe

So, what the hell is this?

I didn't care about anything else—I had wanted a happy ending. But when I checked the download, there was only an executable program. How did they even know my email address?

Is this some kind of game based on the novel's world?

The novel had originally progressed like a game. Maybe the novel had been written as a game scenario, and this was the real thing. Whatever. If I could see Cream's story again, there was no time to hesitate.

Carrying all the pent-up frustration, the girl's tears, everything—I clicked the mouse with desperate resolve.

......

“Teacher? Are you alright?”

Damn it.

That cursed author. That cursed novel. Running the program and confirming it was a game had been fine, but my vision had spun, and now a woman in old-fashioned maid attire stood before me. Around us stretched the interior of an elegant, antique mansion.

“Mister Andy?”

“Andy” was the name I had entered when starting the program. It came from my web novel site username.

“Teacher, if you need to rest—”

“...I'm fine. Something just got in my eye for a moment.”

I clutched my dizzy head, then quickly lifted my face and pretended to be perfectly normal.

“Is that so? Then may I continue guiding you?”

“Please do.”

I needed to figure out the situation first. Having seen this kind of thing before, Andy used an awkward, overly polite tone as he touched his chin and looked around. Dark wooden moldings, landscape paintings on the walls, unique wallpaper patterns—everything that caught his eye felt strangely familiar. He'd never seen it in person, but he had read descriptions of it.

“By any chance, could you explain the history of this mansion to me?”

“Pardon? Oh, yes. The history of our Hollybell Mansion dates back over a century...”

It really was the Hollybell Mansion. This was where the protagonist of the novel I'd been reading until recently lived, and now I was being called “Teacher Andy.” What on earth was going on? Naturally, the character Andy didn't exist in the original story. After all, I'd come up with the name myself.

“This is the room.”

While I was lost in thought, the history lesson ended. Looking ahead, there was a door at the end of the corridor.

Knock knock—

“My lady. The tutor has arrived.”

[Ah, not yet, not yet! Just a moment!]

The young lady and the tutor. From inside came the voice of who I assumed was the young lady. Her tone was slightly lisping but lively. It was surprisingly not as dark as I'd expected.

[Okay, it's fine now!]

At her words, the maid opened the door, revealing the interior.

Whoosh—!

“Welcome to my room!”

In a simple space furnished only with necessities, flower petals fluttered down from above. In the middle of it all, a girl was jumping up and down, welcoming her guest. Mysterious pale pink eyes. Fluffy white hair and a small, rabbit-like frame. Every time she jumped, her long dress fluttered and her hair flew about. It was an unexpectedly warm welcome.

“Please go in, Teacher.”

“...”

“From today onward, Teacher will be in charge of the young lady's education and daily guidance. The authority for this has been granted in the name of the head of the Hollybell family.”

I'd already gotten the feeling from hearing “Teacher” repeatedly, but the maid's explanation confirmed it. Starting today, Andy would become the home tutor for that illegitimate girl.

Whether the original author—or some transcendent being wearing the author's skin—had a conscience or not, it seemed my complaint had been taken into account.

“Don't you think you're being too harsh on the young protagonist? She gets beaten and ostracized ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every day with no supportive adult on her side, only to end in a destruction ending—”

—Then you become that supportive adult yourself.

It was completely unexpected, but not bad. The sudden possession was bewildering, and I had no idea how to return to my original world, but what I needed to do right now was clear.

The child who, no matter how hard she tried, could never earn her family's love, who was mocked and cried bitterly. The child who would eventually come to hate everything and destroy the world—no longer existed.

“...It's nice to meet you, my lady.”

Because I, Andy, would change the future.

The man who remembered that day's ending met the girl's eyes at her level. With a wide, bright smile full of determination to lead her to a happy ending.

The girl smiled back at him.

“Seonsaennim, hm, hm... Are you my teacher?”

“Yes. My name is Andy. Please call me comfortably.”

“Then I'll call you Seonsaennim. Hehe... I'm Cream!”

I tried to correct her lisping pronunciation, but her tongue seemed too short ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and it came out lisped again. The way she giggled innocently looked utterly pure. She even reached out first to shake hands, and Andy gladly took it.

After laughing along with the pleasant first meeting, a different thought suddenly occurred to him.

In the original... she would say 'I-I'm Cream...'

In the original story, the young lady had been timid and shrinking no matter who she faced. She always cowered like a herbivore, begging not to be hurt. But now, something was different.

“Please take good care of me from now on!”

Her dress looked like it had been used to wipe a dining table, and her hair— which should have been glossy—was dull and unkempt. Yet she greeted him energetically. She seemed less like a herbivore and more like a neighborhood puppy. A slightly dim-witted puppy.

Preparing flower petals for the teacher's arrival and offering a handshake first—this bright, outgoing personality was definitely not in the original. Maybe this world was a bit different from the novel because people actually lived here? Or perhaps it was still the very early stages and she hadn't lost her smile yet. If so, that was even better. It meant I could help her before the real misfortune began, which filled me with even more motivation.

With such a friendly child by my side, we would surely be able to head toward a wonderful future—

At that moment, as if to cut off my thoughts, a familiar window appeared. It was the status window that had been frequently described in the novel. Neither the young lady nor the maid showed any reaction, so it seemed only I could see it.

...Wait a second.

But there was something that particularly caught my eye. How strange.

Despite the girl smiling so brightly, her Morality and Faith stats were hitting rock bottom from the start. Her stress level was also unexpectedly high. I had definitely been dreaming of a wonderful future, but these numbers that didn't match at all blurred my vision and filled me with unease.

...Did the system glitch?

That thought lasted only a moment. That wasn't what mattered right now. Something far more important was below the other stats, at the very bottom.

Something had gone very, very wrong.