I Am a Bad Person -3-

A hectic day finally drew to a close. After dropping off the young lady who kept babbling nonsense about how mint chocolate tteokbokki was her greatest creation, I wandered the capital's streets late into the evening.

"Mint chocolate is society's evil."

Muttering the young lady's absurd words, I let out a deep sigh. The capital's streets were still bustling even as late night approached. Night patrol guards, adventurers unwinding in taverns after grueling days, Imperial Academy students burning with youthful passion. Watching people wrap up their weary days, I murmured to myself.

"Young. So damn young."

I'd had my time like that once. Back in my academy days. It was only a short year or so, but I'd lived a pretty student-like life. Raiding ruins, clearing quests, dismantling heretic remnants. ...Not exactly a great school life, was it? On second thought, it hit me—it wasn't a normal school life at all. I'd correct it to say I lived a busy life, not a leisurely youthful one like others.

Still, it had its fun. Sure, the young lady drove me nuts, but just entering the main storyline of the novel made it exciting. Seeing events I'd only read about play out in real life, watching the heroine Yuria grow—it felt novel, admirable even. Her bullying incident. The academy fire. The process of her getting close to Ruin. Experiencing in person what I'd only seen in the novel stirred emotions too hard to put into words. Times I'd cried and laughed weren't bad memories at all.

Especially the memories with Yuria—they felt a bit more special. I'd only meant to watch over her, but we got close. I'd tried living as a man among men, but we became friends. Those memories didn't fade easily.

Strolling through the glittering streets, I reminisced about the distant past.

"—Why are you crying here?"

Thinking back to our first conversation, I looked up at the brightly lit moon.

"Fucking bright, huh."

Time for a drink ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠after ages.

*

Near the Imperial Academy, in a quiet tavern that only regulars frequented, Yuria sat in the corner with a gloomy expression.

A dimly lit tavern with few patrons, free of rowdy adventurers or nasty types. This small bar-style spot was safe for a girl alone—no worries about weirdos picking fights. It was Yuria's go-to when she felt down, even though she didn't love drinking, and a place steeped in old memories.

Hanging her outer coat on the chair, Yuria timidly raised her hand.

"Um..."

The female server didn't hear her soft voice and kept wiping glasses with a dry cloth. Yuria glanced around nervously. Lovers lost in romance. Students laughing off the end of the semester. She prayed for eye contact with the busy server, but no luck.

Yuria hesitated, shrugged her shoulders, and whispered.

"Can't she hear...?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠called out louder toward the server.

"Um... can I order?!"

But her timid voice drowned in the chatter, unheard by the server.

"Ah... uh..."

Fidgeting with her fingers, Yuria finally got to order when the server approached after a while.

"Sorry. Extra busy today. Haha..."

"No, it's fine. Uh... could I get a draft beer and some jerky?"

The server nodded, jotting it down.

"Draft beer and jerky, right?"

"Yes."

"Just a sec, it'll be right out!"

Yuria replied softly.

"No rush."

"Yup~!"

A short wait later, bite-sized jerky and a cool beer arrived at her table. Staring at the beer, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yuria sighed deeply from her core.

"Haa..."

A sigh heavy with worry. Maybe her inner turmoil ran so deep it drove her to alcohol she didn't even like. With sad eyes, she gazed at the beer.

"Why am I such an idiot?"

She muttered bitterly.

"Can't even do what I know how to do right, jumping to stupid conclusions..."

Self-loathing laced her gloomy mutterings. The hallucination from the dungeon lingered, dragging her self-esteem down. She'd been thrilled learning she had holy power talent... but lately, the downs outnumbered the ups. Relationships, studies—worries grew heavier with each year.

The thrill of thinking she could be a proper daughter to her struggling adventurer dad hadn't lasted. Sending him pocket money after earning her scholarship still warmed her heart, but current academy life just depressed her.

Early in the semester, Yuria faced bullying.

"Why's she acting all high and mighty? Commoner bitch."

She'd thought being outgoing would make friends. Instead, she slammed into the class wall. Every action hated, cursed just for passing by. The early academy days crushed her mentally. In her quiet village, bright smiles won friends—but not here.

Hanging with boys made her a vixen. Approaching girls got her called shameless. Unsure how to fit in, how to avoid hate, she tried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠changing—but got only cold shoulders.

"Why act friendly?"

"You're the one making it awkward, fuck."

Alone with her thoughts, Yuria hated academy life. The dream was cold; the "no commoner-noble divide" was a lie with invisible lines everywhere.

In that gray life, her sole joy was Ricardo. Confident unlike her. She'd fallen at first sight.

At freshman orientation, seeing him sparked "holy shit."

Deep red hair. Tall stature. Perfect features. Fierce yet kind-looking—her first crush.

Others didn't agree...

"That's him? Olivia's butler?"

"Probably. Looks the part for that crazy bitch."

"Connections matter. Even a commoner like that gets into the Imperial Academy."

"Hey, too loud."

"Good. Let him hear. It's true."

Ricardo was infamous for his bad temper. Nobles called him a mad dog; commoners, a bootlicker. Rumors swirled, but Yuria fell for his looks anyway. Why hate him? He's so handsome—why not like him? Petty, but fewer rivals was a win. Imagining dating him meant no jealousy.

Like everyone's first love, Ricardo became her idol.

Being in his class made her squeal into her pillow.

"Holy shit... holy shit...! Same class! What do I do!!!"

His antics never failed to amuse.

"Hey, commoner. Buy me bread from the canteen."

"What."

"What? Commoner talking casual?"

"Noble talking casual?"

"You crazy fuck."

"Young lady!!!"

He never cowered as a commoner, ignoring stares and going wild. Maybe his backup, but it felt like raw, bold confidence. Fistfights with nobles early on, dirty tricks like sand in rankings to win. Students trashed him, but he lived carefree.

Just watching thrilled and excited her. Cheering silently—that was her school life.

Then one day, she talked to him. Not by choice—others' will. In her ugliest moment.

The day she fled seeing the red graffiti on her desk.

"—Why are you crying here?"

Ricardo had found her sobbing.