The Girl Wants to Be Murdered

TL/Editor: Butter Cat

Status: 4/week mon-thurs

Illustrations: none

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〈 Chapter 42 〉 Chapter 42. Testimony.

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A powerful shock, unlike anything I had ever felt before, struck my head.

"■■,■■■??"

"■■■ ■,■■!"

A sharp, piercing noise filled my ears.

My vision swayed, my legs gave way, and I couldn't help but collapse to the ground, unable to regain my senses.

Even so, my hand, clenched tight as if refusing to let go of its target, successfully achieved its initial objective, removing the cloth that was gagging Sia's mouth.

I wanted to praise my own hand, even though it was a part of me.

The cool snow on the ground was enough to soothe the burning sensation on my head.

I let out a small sigh, experiencing the incomplete sensation.

"■hat ■■ are you ■■ㅡ!!!!"

"Ju■ sav■ the village, ■om a ■itch."

My hearing gradually returned, and I started to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation.

It seemed they had decided that I was the 'culprit' of something and that I was the cause of the current situation.

Of course, I didn't know why they thought I was the culprit, or why Sia's treatment seemed no different from mine, even though I was supposedly the guilty one.

But one thing was for sure, they had used Sia as bait to lure me out.

I clutched my throbbing head, trying to endure the pain as I curled up into a ball.

"...Ah... Aaaah... It hurts..."

"—The wit■ feels pain t■? That's, quite interesting."

Thump, thump.

Footsteps, cold and mechanical, devoid of any emotion, reached my ears.

An old man with a neatly trimmed white beard appeared, parting the crowd surrounding me and Sia.

Unlike his kind appearance, the old man's words held no mercy.

No, maybe he was the type to be just as cruel to his enemies as he is kind to his allies.

I managed to turn my head and look at him, and in his eyes, I saw it being so full of hatred that it was overflowing.

"AliCeEe!! RuMi, unTie ThIs! uNtIE mE nOW!!!"

"So, is this child really a witch — Rumi? I was skeptical when you said you’d lured her out alone, but you really did it. Quite impressive."

"...Yes, Village Head. This child is the witch."

Well, I had expected it.

It seemed Rumi had planned everything, tying up Sia and luring me out.

By the way, 'witch'... It's been a really long time since I've been called that.

In the past, I used to be called that a lot.

"According to the records, witches are said to have a distinctive mark. Let's have a look."

".....Yes."

Tug, my hair, which Elli had always been so eager to praise, was yanked by someone's hand(Rumi).

The pain of my scalp being torn made me thrash my legs, which had no strength, desperately trying to sit up.

The screams from my mouth and the cries bursting from Sia's mouth upon watching my pathetic struggles blended together, filling the forest with our anguish.

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaah—!!! Aah... Ah..it hurts….it,hurts!"

"....I won't apologize."

"Rumi, you're not this kind of person! Please, please don't do this!!!"

"—No, I have to."

But Sia's resistance, bound and unable to move, and mine, without even the strength to break a twig, was nothing but a feeble struggle.

Our resistance was nothing but a minor inconvenience to those with convictions stronger than their own lives.

They wouldn't even bat an eye at the price they had to pay.

"No….nO, sTOp iT, RuMI!!!"

"...."

Rip, rip.

Despite the pleas to stop, Rumi's delicate fingers relentlessly tore at my clothes.

With a riiiiiiiip, the fabric tore along its grain, and my top was soon reduced to mere rags, no longer serving its purpose.

And finally, it was revealed.

"....Huh..!!"

"—This is…"

"The mark… of a witch…!!"

Whoosh.

The cold winter wind, unfiltered by any fabric, tickled my upper body.

Everyone surrounding me gasped, as if witnessing something horrifying, as if they had seen something they couldn't unsee.

And Sia, kneeling right in front of me, staring at me, was no exception.

No.

Rather, the shock seemed to be twice as intense for her.

For a moment, silence fell upon us.

As everyone stared at the gruesome scars and wounds, speechless, the old man called the Village Head was the first to snap out of his daze and approached me.

"...This, there's no need to even question it….But, I'll ask you anyway. Are you a 'witch'?"

"....Wi....tch....?"

"Are you the 'witch' who cursed our village, ruined our fields, sang strange songs, destroyed the holy relic, and plunged our people into despair—that's what I'm asking."

The Village Head's voice was now bubbling with boiling hatred.

He listed the strange events that had occurred in the village, asking if I was the cause of all their misfortunes.

I shook my head frantically, using my whole body, denying his accusation.

With the movement, blood that hadn't dried yet dripped from my head.

"…Don't, know…I'm…not…I’m not…a bad, girl…”

"…Hmm, you’re denying it, are you?"

I denied the accusations.

Isn't that obvious? I didn't do it, I really didn’t.

But it seemed my denial displeased the Village Head, and he scowled, turning to look at Sia, who was crying before me.

As the Village Head's gaze shifted to Sia, Rumi, who was holding my head up, flinched despite not being the one he was looking at.

Oh?

In that interesting situation, almost like a comedy skit, I was able to piece together all the puzzle pieces.

What had happened to them.

Why Sia was tied up like this.

Why Rumi had lied to lure me here.

I understood it all.

Quiz shows are boring, so let's just cut to the answer, shall we?

The recent heavy snowfall, the unusual weather, the cold snap had plunged the village into a state of unease, and.

Sia, who had already been ostracized and suspected by the villagers, was accused of being the cause of everything, the 'witch'.

Her black hair was a symbol of ill omen, so they had plenty of evidence from their perspective.

But for some reason, that arrow of blame had landed to me.

There was no way Sia would have sold me out, so the only explanation was that Rumi, who dearly loved Sia, had used me to take the blame.

Just like she had told me about Rumi, she must have told Rumi about me.

Ah.

What a tear-jerking tale of love and friendship.

It was a beautiful story, beautiful enough to make me want to applaud as a member of the audience.

And as expected, the protagonist didn't like the fact that the arrows of blame was being directed at Sia.

She whispered into my ear.

"—Alice, was it? If this continues, Han will die."

".....Ah…?"

"You are the witch. You are the monster. You are the bad child, you are the one who did wrong—"

She whispered those words into my ear, hiding them from the villagers who were looking at Sia.

That I was the culprit.

To confess.

That it was the only way to save Sia.

She commanded me firmly, not caring that both Sia and I were looking at her.

It must have stemmed from the thought that being hated now, meant nothing to her.

"—rUMi!! yoU, WhAt aRE yOu doINg…YOu—!!"

"….I believe you understand, Alice. You’re a smart girl, after all."

".....Ah… Aaah…?"

Nod, nod.

With unfocused eyes, I mindlessly bobbed my head up and down to Rumi's words.

If you asked me what was more important, my life or someone else's, I would always say someone else's life is more important..

Especially if that someone else was a friend I cherished, there was no question.

Heehee.

Sis Sia, you're so blessed.

To have someone who loves you this much by your side, what a precious blessing.

It's not the people who congratulate you when you're happy, but the people who help you in times of need, when your life is on the line, that are the connections you should cherish.

I'm so envious.

I'm so, so envious.

"I...I am...the witch..I am...the witch.."

"...Ali..cE? No…Don’t say thAT…Don’t, ALice!!"

"—Oh ho."

Sia had said that Rumi wasn't her real friend, that she had many other friends besides her.

Surely, someone as smart as her wouldn't have any trouble making friends.

Sia must have felt a little jealous, a little lonely.

That's why she was so childishly happy when I said I wanted to be her friend.

But Sia was wrong.

Rumi was just a very smart and capable woman who could see things for what they were.

The cold attitude she maintained in public, the nagging and constant scolding, it was all a carefully calculated act.

"I’m,sorry...I'm, sor...ry...Keh, keheuk! It's...my, fault..."

"I see… You’re finally admitting to your crime…"

"—What aRe YOu sAYinG, alICe!! Don't say thAT… comE to YOur senSES, I SaId, CoMe to yOUr seNSEs!!"

Because if she was ostracized too, she would lose her only way to help Sia.

Because she knew that if she took the lead in scolding Sia, it would reduce the criticism and violence from others.

For that, Sis Rumi had been biting her lip and chewing on her nails, putting on an act.

The best performance, one that even she herself didn't realize.

In return, I diligently tried to shift the blame onto myself, falling to my knees, rubbing my hands and feet together.

"—RUMI!! yOU....YOU.....!!"

"...I was right, wasn't I? This child is the real witch, and Han is just a victim who was manipulated by her curse."

"Ha ha, I see. To think you figured it out and resolved it, you truly are the smartest person in the village!!"

Thwack, thwack.

Hard stones, the size of my fist, flew towards me.

Perhaps afraid of what I, now labeled a witch, might do, they started throwing things at me, their eyes filled with fear.

They were the ones insulting me, and yet, they were the ones afraid.

How ironic.

Rocks aimed at my head, my body, my legs, my chest — If there were no rocks, they threw wood, if there was no wood, they threw dirt, and if they couldn't even pick up dirt, they spat at me.

Die!!

Because of you…my child…!!

My crops failed this year…!!

Because of the convenient excuse that the source of all their misfortunes was right there in front of them.

Because a perfect scapegoat had been set up to shoulder all the blame.

They spewed their malice at me, caught up in a frenzy.

If the reverence for a deity that bestows good fortune, blessings, and wealth could be called ‘faith,’ then the malice towards a monster that brings calamity could also be called ‘faith.’

They were believers, ascetics seeking salvation.

Then what am I, I wonder.

"Heehee."

My body, battered by the hail of projectiles, cried out in pain.

Their screams that seemed to pierce the heavens, their sighs of relief.

Hearing it all, I could only smile, a small smile unseen by anyone.

**

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