Raging Flames (3)

The three shadows flickered violently the entire time we walked down the corridor.

Unlike the fluorescent or LED lights used in the modern era, an oil lamp is a lamp with a literal flame burning on a wick. Since the flame itself always wavered unsteadily, it was only natural for the shadows to tremble a little.

But now they were shaking far more violently than when I had walked down this hall earlier.

Because the hand holding the lamp, my hand, was trembling uncontrollably.

"Hm? What's gotten into you? Did you eat something bad?"

The hag asked. Her expression didn't look particularly worried. It was more like she found it curious.

After all, I had always maintained a blank expression in front of her until now. Most kids were terrified of the hag, but I, at least, could keep my expression hidden from her.

It wasn't because I possessed some remarkable skill. If I did, I wouldn't be shaking like this right then.

When I was young, I once dreamed of becoming a voice actor. In my own way—

...... No, that wasn't right.

Now wasn't the time for that story.

I needed to figure out how to process this situation.

There were no wounds on my body. I felt no pain. So there was no proof that I had been hit by that man.

But the pain I'd felt was so vivid that it was hard to dismiss it as merely a dream or my imagination.

The sensation of falling face-first onto the carriage floor. The chilling sound of something snapping inside my mouth. Something hard and small rattling around in my mouth, the taste of iron from wherever it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had split, and my vision blurring and swimming—

Thwack.

The hag struck my leg with her cane, making me stagger slightly.

"You useless brat. Can't even hold a measly lamp properly? The light flickering hurts my eyes. If my eyesight gets any worse, do you plan on taking responsibility for it?"

The hag's eyesight was by no means bad. It was sharp enough to spot a child slacking off at the far end of the room and rush over to swing her cane at them.

But I did my best to stand up straight.

I could feel cold sweat trickling down my spine.

I didn't want to be hit again.

When was the last memory I had of actually being struck by something? It must have been over ten years ago, counting the years. Especially after becoming an adult, unless you got into a fight with someone, there was no reason to get hit, and people who threw punches first couldn't function in society anyway.

At that moment, I didn't feel that pain, but......

If things continued like this.

"Sis?"

I flinched at the sound of Claire's voice calling out to me.

When I turned my head, Claire was looking at me with a worried expression.

...... Right. I was sold off in Claire's place. And I got beaten. I didn't know the exact reason, but judging by how he went on about his tastes while he was doing that to me, it was probably the preference of whoever was buying me.

When the same situation repeated itself a moment before, I thought I should have just stayed out of it. If the person waiting outside that door was the same man, the same thing would happen again.

...... And.

And, if I didn't go through it...... then Claire would be the one to suffer it.

What was I to do? What could I possibly do? What could I do so that both of us could escape this situation?

My mind raced furiously, but no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't think of anything a five-year-old brat could do.

"What are you mumbling about? Keep your eyes forward and walk. That gentleman is waiting."

We had only exchanged a single word. To be precise, we hadn't even had a conversation; Claire had simply called out to me. But even that much was enough to irritate the hag, who thumped my leg with her cane.

"......."

Having seen a child mercilessly beaten with that cane before, we had no choice but to shut our mouths. I was even more terrified because I had already been exposed to that kind of brutal violence earlier.

I just hoped that the person waiting ahead wasn't the same person I had seen before.

And then,

"Now, introduce yourselves."

The hag said.

When I looked up, the man was wearing a fine-looking coat and a silk hat. He had a monocle over one eye, and a bushy mustache grew above his lip.

"Ah......."

Seeing my despairing expression,

"Oh-ho."

The man reacted as if intrigued.

And everything that followed unfolded exactly as I remembered.

*

"......."

I woke up again, curled up in a ball.

I had returned to a few minutes earlier.

"Sis?"

Claire called out to me.

At those words, I opened my eyes. Looking at my arms, there were still no wounds, and there was nothing rolling around in my mouth. I didn't sense the metallic rawness like molten iron, and my vision was clear.

I had returned to the point before we met that man.

Claire looked at me with a strange expression as I frantically checked my body over again.

I looked around.

The other children were watching me.

I.......

So, had I turned back time?

Or had the being up there, who might have sent me to this world, turned it back for me?

Forcing my fear-numbed mind to work, I desperately tried to recall the world-building lore from the game I had played.

God exists in this world. But whether that god is a personal deity is unknown.

The setting of the god remained the same even as the series continued and the world-building shifted several times. Because of that, players often speculated that it was the same entity across all the games. The concept that it created a kind of compelling force, like the will of the world itself, is actually criticized by some players as 'a convenient plot device to make the story easier to write.'

Was this one of those convenient plot devices, too?

Could God turn back time? If He could, what the hell was the standard for turning it back?

Couldn't He have turned back time before I got beaten up? Did I have to be in mortal danger for time to rewind? No, it wasn't mortal danger. It hurt like hell and felt like I was going to die, but the man had no intention of killing me. He couldn't afford to completely break his purchase during the 'processing.'

If that was the case, then...... was this my ability?

"Claire!"

And then, that disgustingly familiar voice rang out.

"The person who will take you away has arrived! Come out happily!"

Once again, the situation was repeating itself.

*

I still didn't know exactly what my ability was. I couldn't use it freely, and I didn't know if there was a limit on the number of times, or if there was a maximum amount I could use in one go.

How the hell did I end up with such an absurd ability, and if someone gave it to me, what the hell were they thinking—

—I didn't have the luxury to think about that.

Getting hit was terrifying. I was not someone accustomed to pain. I was the type of person ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who, upon getting a paper cut while reading a book, would mope around all day obsessing over the cut, and if I ever caught a cold, I'd make a huge fuss about the aches and lie flat on my back.

But even so.

Even so, I had plenty of chances.

I confirmed it once more.

I could turn back time.

Because this time, I was able to turn it back the instant I saw the man's face.

"Sis......?"

I opened my eyes to that voice, which I had already heard several times by then. My body bore no injuries. I was still in perfect health.

And it was around then that I started to get a vague feeling about what the condition was for turning back time.

Intense emotion. Or desperation.

The moment I regretted my choice so deeply that my emotions collapsed, I invariably returned to this point.

I wasn't sure why it was this specific moment, or if I could change the point in time. I didn't have the luxury to think about such things.

"Claire!"

And then, once more.

"The person who will take you away has arrived! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Come out happily!"

Time repeated itself.

*

Even after experiencing the same thing three times, some things were just hard to adapt to. I mean, even if you take a regular office job, you'll still make mistakes at work for the first month or so without properly adjusting. Yet here I was, walking the line between life and death, or more precisely, between whether my entire life would be ruined or not, several times over.

Getting hit that much didn't make me immune to pain. Or rather, it was impossible to become immune to pain in the first place. The body of a five-year-old child wasn't sturdy enough to endure being punched by a grown man.

But still, my mind raced frantically.

What was I to do?

What was I to do so that both of us could get through this without suffering that kind of horrific ordeal?

It didn't seem likely that telling the man we were useless would work. His standards didn't require things like personality in the first place. He intended to 'process' us in his own way.

Claire stabbing a noble to death and setting the brothel on fire was something that would happen much later. If Claire went instead of me in this situation, I might be fine, but Claire would suffer for years.

In that case, it was probably better for me, who at least had a chance to do something, to block it.

I resolved not to think about whether there was a use limit...... for the moment. I would just pretend it didn't exist. Even if there was one, it wouldn't mean anything since I had no way of knowing.

As I was wondering what to do, I remembered the oil lamp I was holding in my hand.

Something I could 'use' right then.

"Is it this child?"

I saw the man approaching me.

There was no time to think.

I threw the lamp I was holding at the man with all my might.

"What the......!?"

The hag shouted beside me, and the woman behind the man screamed in surprise.

I didn't know what Claire said.

The lamp, thrown with all the strength a five-year-old brat could muster—

—did not set the man on fire.

Crash!

Before the lamp could reach him, the man struck it down with the cane he was holding.

The lamp shattered in mid-air, spilling oil and catching fire, but that was it.

"......."

The man looked at me, his expression not changing in the slightest.

"Oh."

Fuck.

*

"Sis......?"

I had returned.

Fortunately, I was able to turn back time before the man did anything. It felt like I was getting the hang of it as the number of times increased.

There were no special conditions for turning back time. If I strongly wished for it, I simply returned.

I still didn't know how to rewind further back than this point. Even if I could, it wouldn't be useful right then.

"It's okay."

I reassured Claire with those words.

I still had chances left.

Rather, I was the one gaining the advantage as time went on.

*

This time, I threw the lamp again.

But I didn't throw it at the man.

I threw it at the hag beside me.

Luckily, Claire was standing closer to me than to the hag, so she didn't get splashed with the burning oil.

"Kyaaah!"

Her body on fire, the hag shrieked and thrashed about madly. The flames had only caught her legs at first, but as time passed, they climbed upwards, engulfing her torso.

The flames soared high enough to hide the hag's face.

The problem was, I had never done something like that to a person before.

No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠matter how much of a piece of trash the other person was for selling children to a brothel, a person was still a person on the outside. My hands would tremble just at the thought of hitting someone I disliked, but this was burning someone alive.

Claire, standing beside me, was frozen in the same way as we watched the scene—

I felt a hand clamp down on my shoulder.

"Ah......."

Roughly yanked backward, I fell—

*

—and returned once more.

This time, I would make it so the man couldn't even think about entering this place.

I couldn't set the man on fire. And burning the hag in front of him wouldn't scare him off.

So, in that case.

"Claire—"

I waited for the hag to come.

"The person who will take you away—"

And when I stepped forward, indicating I would go, the hag grumbled, and Claire looked at me and gave a bright smile.

"Well, since you're already coming, it's convenient. Here, at least carry the lamp."

And so I took the lamp.

And the moment I took it,

I smashed the lamp down onto the floor of the corridor leading to the exit, shattering it to pieces.

"You......!"

A few drops of oil splashed onto me since I smashed it toward the exit, but luckily, it didn't catch fire.

"What do you think you're—"

But the hag couldn't finish her sentence.

As she stood hunched forward, lifting her cane, I grabbed her collar,

and twisted with all my might.

No matter how strong the hag was for her age, with her upper body leaning forward, her center of gravity was easily broken with just a little bit of force.

"You crazy bitch......!"

The hag's eyes flew wide open. Still gripping her cane with both hands raised, her body pivoted and she toppled straight into the blazing inferno on the floor.