Self-Destruct: Service Terminated

I opened my eyes to the familiar ceiling of the inn. Sunlight was already streaming in through the window. Staring blankly at the ceiling, I let out a slow breath. The blankets were damp, and my body was soaked in cold sweat. Even my hair clung stickily to the nape of my neck.

It was that dream again. The sensation of my insides twisting from within at the moment of explosion, the breath choking off as scorching heat overwhelmed me in an instant—that horrific agony. Every time I woke, I was drenched like this.

"Haa..."

My chest still throbbed faintly inside. It had been truly nightmarish. The first time I awoke in the village after self-destructing, I had no shame—I lay on the floor wailing like a baby for ages. Even thinking back now, it was embarrassing, but it couldn't be helped. No sane person could endure that level of pain.

Never again. I can't. Self-destruct service ends today.

Master currently deceased. The Black Magician seemed truly dead. Whether he got caught in my self-destruct blast or crushed under the rubble, it was over if it was over. As long as I didn't trigger it myself, it shouldn't go off on its own. And of course, I had zero intention of doing so.

I closed the status window and slowly sat up. My legs still trembled, but it was better than yesterday. I changed out of my sweat-soaked clothes, roughly combed my hair with my fingers, and opened the door.

"Oh, you're awake."

A warm voice reached me first. At the end of the hall, Auntie Marie waved with a smile. Spotting me, she strode over and lightly ruffled the top of my head as if it were the most natural thing.

"Fever's down a lot, and your face looks better today."

"Yes, Auntie."

Auntie Marie was truly a good person. She was the one who picked me up from the roadside in the corner of the village where I lay groaning, washed me, fed me, and put me to bed. She changed my cold cloths and boiled porridge for me during those days of moaning in pain. Sob sob, thank you so much.

To repay that kindness, I'd been helping out at the inn every day since I could get up. Fetching water, washing dishes, cleaning rooms left by guests. I did whatever I could, but a corner of my heart still felt uneasy. The debt kept snowballing. No matter how I thought about it, what she provided—food, shelter, care—seemed worth far more than my labor.

"Heading out again today?"

"Yes."

"Don't push yourself too hard."

Auntie eyed me with worry, then smiled tenderly.

"Come back before dinner."

"I will."

I answered briskly, but my feet were already heading for the door. What I had to do was set. From the day I regained my senses, without fail, every single day. Today, too, my steps led toward the Estella Countess Manor.

After a long walk, the familiar walls came into view. Tall iron gates, two guards stationed on either side, and beyond them, the grand roof of the mansion. As I approached the main gate, the guard on the left spotted me first.

"Back again."

"Hello."

Instead of replying, the guard let out a short sigh and reached out to lightly tousle my hair.

The first time I came, he'd shooed me away coldly. A random commoner kid with no appointment demanding to see the young lady? It was ridiculous, of course. But showing up every day had at least made us acquaintances.

I knew what worked. This TS body was too OP. Frail, delicate, pretty—a little girl who screamed "protect me" on sight. How could adults stay stone-faced in front of that? Lately, I'd even leaned into it a bit. Acting extra meek, extra gentle. It felt a little cowardly, embarrassing even. But it worked.

I squatted against the wall a short distance from the gate, and the guard asked familiarly,

"Waiting again today?"

"Yes."

"She won't come out today either."

"Even so."

The guard sighed again. If I couldn't meet her directly, waiting at the gate was all I could do. Maybe she'd come out someday? Maybe we'd bump into each other by chance? With that hope, I kept vigil every day. The problem was, she never had.

By the original setup, she shouldn't be holed up inside like this...

I could see people coming and going inside the manor. The issue was they were doctors, not Lady Estella.

Crash.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass rang out. I looked up—a second-floor window was open. From inside came urgent voices trying to stop someone and a short scream. It was brief. The window shut quickly, and the commotion cut off.

I stared blankly in that direction. The guard beside me showed no surprise, just closed and opened his eyes calmly.

Moments later, two maids rushed out from inside the gate. One carried a basin of water, the other clutched bloodied bandages and medicine bottles. Neither looked pleased.

I found myself looking up at the guard.

"Excuse me."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"What is it?"

"The lady... is she badly hurt?"

The guard's face stiffened briefly. He didn't answer right away. He glanced back inside the gate, looked down at me, then averted his eyes.

"...Yeah. Pretty badly."

Something was off. She didn't seem physically hurt—at least not from the last time I saw her.

"But she didn't look injured when I saw her before."

The guard's mouth twisted bitterly. A face weighing whether to speak or not.

After a long pause, he slowly opened his mouth.

"People, you see."

"Yes."

"Sometimes... it's not the body that gets hurt first. It's the heart."

I looked up silently. The guard glanced inside again.

"When the pain's too much, when they can't forgive themselves... they might destroy their own body."

"Ah."

"That's all you need to know."

He said no more. Self-harm? Had the trauma from her imprisonment pushed her that far? Or was there some other reason I didn't know that had driven her mind to the brink?

I looked up at the closed window again. Nothing visible.

A moment later, I spoke.

"Mister."

"Yeah?"

"If it's the lady, she'll shake it off and get back up soon."

The guard chuckled softly. With a more deflated expression than before, his hand rose to pat my head.

"Yeah."

He murmured quietly.

"She's always been strong."

I peeled my back from the wall and stood slowly. I dusted off my skirt where dirt had clung. No point waiting longer today; I wouldn't see her. I couldn't keep freeloading off Auntie Marie forever. To repay her, I needed money first—and that meant getting moving.

"Mister."

"Hm?"

"I probably... won't be able to come starting tomorrow."

His eyebrows rose slightly.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

I hesitated briefly, then smiled faintly.

"Thank you for everything."

This was enough. She'd learn someday that I was alive. I'd even told her at the end. That there was a way. That I could live. If fate allowed, we'd meet again.

Suddenly, the back of my hand caught my eye. The vivid scar remained, angry and red. It wouldn't fade easily. By the time it did, maybe we'd cross paths again.

With that thought, I turned away without regret. A breeze blew from behind. Somewhere from a firmly shut window, I thought I heard a faint crack of fracturing glass. But I didn't look back.

I already had a way to make money in mind. In a fantasy world, the early game cash flow was standard: the Adventurer's Guild. If things went well, it might even unlock the grand mage route. Honestly, since falling into this isekai, I'd secretly hoped for this picture. Casually slinging spells, earning cash, taking quests. That sort of thing.

Of course, reality had been a dumpster fire—kidnapped by a mad Black Magician and turned into a human bomb.

...But that's over now. Black Magician's dead, I'm alive. Time to enjoy this world properly, right?

Standing before the guild doors, I straightened my collar for no reason. Pushing them open, a wave of rowdy energy hit me. Adventurers crowding the quest board, a long line at reception, boisterous laughter erupting here and there.

Oh. This is it.

My lips curved up. I strode straight to the counter.

"Excuse me."

The receptionist looked up from her papers. Seeing me, her expression softened instantly.

"Oh my."

That reaction felt ominous.

"Where are your parents?"

"Pardon?"

"Didn't come with you?"

"I came alone."

"Oh, how brave."

She leaned forward, face fighting a smile.

"Here on an errand?"

"No."

"To register as an adventurer."

A brief silence fell. Then her lips curved even softer.

"I see."

Her hand rose to pat my head fondly.

"Come back when you're bigger."

My eyebrow twitched.

"...I'm a mage."

"Yes, sure you are."

Alright. Playing it like that, huh.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The Black Magician had called my talent real, at least. One-in-a-century level. That's why he kidnapped me to make a bomb out of me. Sure, the guy was insane, so credibility was low, but it wasn't baseless. I'd picked up knowledge overhearing him, felt mana at my fingertips. Nothing fancy. Just a tiny flame.

I held my palm out over the counter.

"Wait—"

The receptionist's eyes widened.

"Nothing dangerous—"

I drew up mana thinly, carefully. Gathered it at my fingertips, compressed to a point, sparked a tiny ember—

"Hahk."

A scream burst from my mouth unbidden. It felt like a hand clutched my chest's core. The mana twisted horrifically from within. My heart plummeted, vision whitening. If I hadn't grabbed the counter edge desperately, I'd have collapsed.

What the—

"Oh? You okay?"

The receptionist's voice sounded distant. I clutched my chest, unable to reply. My fingers trembled; cold sweat poured down my back.

Then a warning popped up before my eyes.

"...Huh?"

A dumb sound escaped me. What? Black Magician's dead. Shouldn't the servant mark release too?

My grip on my chest tightened. A scene flashed in my mind. Dark room. Hand pressing my nape. Black Magician holding a palm-sized orb.

"...No way."

Did it not end with the master's death? Did I need to destroy the orb itself?

Then—

The guild doors burst open. Someone yelled without catching breath.

"Big quest just dropped!"

Eyes snapped to the board. The receptionist turned, startled. Still clutching my chest, I stared blankly.

A new quest sheet. Red seal stamped, pinned dead center.

"From the Estella Countess Manor!"

"Direct from the countess?"

"Yo, check that bounty. Insane."

The guild erupted. People swarmed like bees. I got swept along halfway.

The details were short and clear.

Dry words dripped with chilling malice. Someone tsked beside me.

"Whoa, that bounty—"

Crowded eyes gleamed with greed.

"Direct from the countess?"

"Seal's there. Fake?"

"The guy who messed with the lady, right?"

Whispers buzzed. Some crossed arms calculating, others backed off scared.

"Makes sense. But I'm out. Big money, but black mage? Unknown risks."

"Just prep thoroughly, no?"

The murmur swelled. Chaos at the board.

And amid it, another window caught my eye.

The Black Magician was already dead. Only I knew that in this world.

Wait. Hold on. Then—

Abacus beads flew in my head at max speed. Proof of death gets the bounty. Excuse to go straight to the countess manor. See Lady Estella. And in that tower, high chance the orb binding my mark remains. I knew the layout. Trap locations too. No living black mage.

This. Pass it up and lose big.

My lips quirked. The chest pain tearing me moments ago? Forgotten.

The receptionist still watched worriedly, but I turned before our eyes met.

"I'm fine."

I slipped from the board like nothing happened. Before anyone grabbed me or pried, better vanish quietly.

My pace quickened. Perfect. Money, free the mark, clear misunderstanding with the lady.

Bursting from the guild, my gaze locked on the forest path to the tower. Utterly unaware of the chill stare trailing me.

At the forest's edge, the charred ruins of the tower loomed grotesquely. Half-collapsed upper levels, blasted outer walls, shattered windows. Bad from afar, worse up close.

"Whoa."

Exploded harder than I thought.

...Well, yeah. That pain deserved this power, or it'd feel unfair.

That bastard Black Magician was something. What made him think to create a human bomb this strong? Up close, even he'd be toast.

I toed carefully over fallen stones, entering. Main entrance fully blocked. He rarely used it anyway, preferring side paths. Having run all his errands, my body remembered first.

I squeezed through a gap in the outer wall. Hall floor cracked in spots, wall decorations half-melted and tilted.

One step. Another. Feet stopped.

Faint pattern on the floor. Step on it, trap magic triggers.

I nudged a rubble chunk with my toe. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Black flames briefly flared over the pattern, then vanished.

Yup.

I twisted away, stepping elsewhere. Passed a storeroom—door half-burned, contents blown out. Not here.

Empty bedroom—overturned bed, shredded curtains. No point checking.

As I stepped deeper—

My nape burned hot inside.

"...Ugh."

Steps halted. The chest squeeze sharpened.

I turned slowly. Dim space under the stairs. Looked like plain wall. But closer, the pressure intensified.

Here it is.

First time, even I was fooled. Now, the decorative pattern was subtly off. Just like this.

Pointlessly hidden, pointlessly twisted.

Pressed the left end. Click.

Twisted my wrist lightly; heavy mechanism groaned inside.

Rumble—

Secret door slid open slowly.

Inside was surprisingly intact compared to elsewhere. A few toppled shelves, but structure whole.

Each step in, the mark pulsed harder. Like squeezing my heart from within.

Breathing shallow, I scanned slowly.

Black pedestal. Fallen shelf. Shattered glass tube.

And—

From behind the tube, faint metallic scrape.

It's here.

My fingertips brushed against a palm-sized black orb. A familiar pattern was etched into its surface—an exact match to the mark on my nape.

Seeing it, I knew. This was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it.

I gripped it tight.

"...Ha."

A laugh escaped my lips. It was really here. With this, I was done. Once I freed myself from this shitty mark, I could—

Flash.

There was no time to process it. My body went airborne, slamming into the floor as if shoved hard from behind. The orb flew from my hand, rolling across the stone.

Ah—

I reached for it, but a foot pinned my ankle and a weight pressed down on my back. The breath was knocked out of me. I thrashed reflexively, but my right arm was twisted behind me at an unnatural angle.

"Wait—"

A low, cold voice dropped right behind me.

"No civilian wanders a black mage's tower with such familiarity."

I barely managed to turn my head. In the corner of my vision, I saw black boots and an unfamiliar shadow. It was the woman from the guild. I still remembered those piercing eyes that had stared straight through me.

"No, I'm—"

"Shh."

My words were cut short. My nape was pressed down harder. My vision spun as my arm was jerked even further.

"Can't be too careful with what a black mage might do."

Silence followed her words, brief and heavy.

"They said to capture you," she murmured, her voice chillingly low. "But they never said anything about bringing you back in one piece."

That instant, she forced my twisted right arm into an even more unnatural position.