Chapter 50

“I told you, you really have to read that novel!”

“Unnie, real life is already sad and miserable. Do I really need to read something like that too?”

My sister from my past life and I had completely opposite tastes.

Clothes, food, everything—we were total opposites.

She liked arrogant and regretful male leads who made everyone in the comments say “Change the male lead already!” while I preferred straightforward, kind guys—our tastes in male leads were perfectly opposite too.

“The female lead marries this male lead who hates royalty, but she’s actually a fake princess, right? When he finds out she’s fake, she tries to run away… anyway, it’s got hate-relationships, escape, and captivity!”

Her passion for promoting it was strong, but her ability to explain it lacked in comparison.

To summarize it, the male lead finds out she’s a fake princess, locks her up when she tries to run away, and forces her to keep pretending while hurting and humiliating her.

In the end, the female lead, unable to bear it any longer, takes her own life. The male lead realizes too late that he loved her and follows her, making it a hopeless, miserable story of regret.

“I only want to read happy stuff. What if I die and get reincarnated into one of the novels or webtoons I read? Oppa’s probably already born in the Leaf Village, training to be a ninja. Or maybe he’s become a pirate.”

TL/N: Reference to popular mangas “Naruto” and “One Piece”

“Then how about this one? A war story where the female lead gets kidnapped by a crazy duke!”

TL/N: Reference to the author’s previous work, “Kidnapped by the Crazy Duke” with an official manhwa release under the title “The Psycho Duke and I”

Whenever my sister tried to convert me with her gospel of dark magic, I always fought back with the holy scriptures of the healing-sunshine rom-com female lead—the embodiment of light itself.

“And I’m telling you to just read this comedy where the male lead is a housekeeper who moves in and takes care of everything!”

TL/N: A reference to another one of the author’s previous works, “I Took the Villain as a Housekeeper”

"Unless he’s holding her captive and doing housework, don’t even bother recommending it!"

We were sisters with totally different personalities, but we got along. We were each other’s last remaining family and only support, after all.

“You know, I feel like no matter what world you end up in, you’d turn it into a rom-com.”

My sister used to say I’d probably survive even if I got stranded on a deserted island.

“Besides, you were born with good luck.”

Who could’ve guessed that would end up being called an ability to steal others’ luck to survive?

Vrrrrmmm—

Then one day, debris from a collapsing building during an air raid fell on us. To be exact, it fell on my sister, who had pushed me out of the way.

“Hang on, I’ll get you out of there!”

But there was no way I could pull her out from under the massive concrete rubble.

She reached her hand out through a small gap and I grabbed it.

“It’s cramped, but I think I could live here rent-free. I doubt you can lift this alone, so go call someone and get me out.”

She was calm, even making jokes.

I forced a smile, trying to stay cheerful.

“Okay. Wait for me.”

I quickly turned and started to run. Leaving her there, I heard her shout from behind me.

“Hey! If you survive again, swear on the River Styx you’ll read it! I even read that <The Cutesy Sunshine Lady Always Wins!> you recommended! God, this pisses me off so much!”

“So what’s the title?!”

The moment I looked back at my sister, a loud explosion erupted with a burst of red flames.

BOOM—!

The place where she had been was already engulfed in flames.

In the end, I couldn’t save anyone.

To this day, I still don’t know what novel she was talking about.

…Maybe it’s because there are so many stories like that, but the one she described kind of sounds like my current situation.

I murmured to myself as I woke from a subconscious haze that I couldn’t tell was a memory or a dream.

“Did I pass out?”

It was the familiar ceiling of the residence.

Still feeling the warmth of holding my sister’s hand, I turned my head and found a small hand clutching mine.

It was Eugene, fast asleep, his cheek resting on the bed sheet as he held my hand.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be hurt anywhere.

On the other hand, my arm was wrapped in bandages from the back of my hand up to my elbow. It must’ve been cut by flying debris.

Suddenly, a rush of emotion swept over me that made me forget the pain.

“I… I can save someone too…”

My luck had protected the child instead of me.

With my bandaged hand, I pressed it to my teary eyes and lowered my head.

***

A dark underground interrogation room.

A place infamous for how no one ever left it unscathed once brought in.

“Eugene’s birth mother was an Esaht. Though she was supposed to be detained, she escaped with the help of her husband who’s Medeian.”

—said Emil, the one being interrogated.

Still clinging to his pride, he refused to admit he had once been a servant.

He also had no intention of revealing Eugene’s parents’ names.

In fact, Eugene’s father was a high-ranking noble of Medeia and a man of considerable influence.

If it was revealed that he sold out Eugene’s parents who were living in hiding for money, there’d be no way he’d stay alive.

‘They might throw me into that horrible underground prison, the one they say is a living hell.’

“Brigadier General Vicente, my homeland was taken over because of the Esahts. The duchy was bombed for the same reason. If you think about it, isn’t that why Eugene ended up like this?”

Emil tried every possible way to justify his actions.

“I lost my family, my home, my land, and even my life. Surely you understand my desire for revenge?”

Massera, seated across the cold metal desk, silently stared at him.

Thinking his words were getting through, Emil smiled.

“Isn’t that why you married the fallen princess too, General? For revenge? As fellow refugees…”

Massera removed the watch from his wrist and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Thud—!

A heavy blow rang out through the sealed interrogation room.

Massera pulled on his leather gloves as he looked down at Emil, who had been knocked over in his chair.

“A dog of a war-criminal nation dares to lump me in with him?”

His coldly upturned eyes glimmered with a dark purple hue.

‘Damn. I thought he didn’t know. How much does he actually know?’

Emil, blood trickling from his nose, looked up at him in fear.

“In a republic that values freedom and justice, is it okay to use such violent torture?”

“I’m just doing things the imperialist way you so willingly submitted to. What’s the problem?”

At his chilling tone, Emil fell silent.

“Your kind only screams justice when it suits you and you use the freedom you’re given to trample on others.”

Massera had already uncovered the fact that Emil had fled after committing treason.

Countless people had likely been dragged to concentration camps and brutally killed because of this man’s words.

Massera leaned back in his metal chair and looked down at him.

“And by the way, the torture hasn’t even started yet.”

Emil’s face turned deathly pale as he collapsed to the floor.

***

Emil was found guilty of all his crimes and was sent to a prisoner of war camp where war criminals were imprisoned.

Massera hadn’t left the interrogation room until morning.

He squinted at the bright sunlight pouring in through the windowpane.

“Isn’t that why you married the fallen princess too, General? For revenge?”

And what’s left after revenge?

Since some time ago, something like a shard of glass had lodged itself deep in his chest and every time he equated Cynthia with revenge, it jabbed at him again.

He started to wonder that maybe he’d been searching for a reason to hate her, perhaps out of some twisted sense of obligation.

He recalled the moment he had followed after the Major, Cynthia, and Eugene.

He had been clearly told that she suffered trauma from the sound of a hunting rifle, but to panic at the sound of an air raid siren…

Didn’t that mean she had lived through an actual air raid?

As much as he didn’t want to believe it, everything Cynthia had shown so far was typical post-trauma behavior of a war victim.

And yet, she had never once explained the cause of her symptoms herself.

‘...Because hiding a mental illness is grounds for divorce.’

From a cold standpoint, this was an opportunity to institutionalize her and assume power over her affairs under the claim of mental incompetence.

Massera gazed out at the garden, now white with snow that had fallen overnight.

The cat house Cynthia built had collapsed the instant it was done, and now snow had piled up over it.

“Uncle.”

Just then, a small hand tugged at his sleeve.

Eugene lowered his head and spoke like he was making a confession.

“My mom was a runaway Esaht. That’s why I got kicked out of the hospital and the orphanage. I’m sorry I hid it. I was scared you’d hate me, Uncle…”

Eugene’s clear eyes looked like light green sprouts peeking through the white snow.

“Even after I realized the princess noona didn’t want to kick me out, I kept avoiding her because she looked so much like my mom.”

Eugene trembled, hiccuping as he struggled to hold back his tears.

“She didn’t do anything wrong. I was just looking for a reason to hate her. She said she was lonely like me and just wanted to be family with me…”

A reason to hate.

Massera’s eyes widened at Eugene’s words—he had been thinking the same thing too.

It was clear to him now that Cynthia, who had thrown herself under a falling sign to protect Eugene, had never intended to abandon him in a mental hospital.

Massera bent down to meet Eugene’s gaze.

Eugene squeezed Massera’s fingers tightly.

“I was scared of being abandoned again.”

“I understand. I would’ve felt the same.”

Massera took out a handkerchief and wiped Eugene’s sniffly nose.

“Your mother wasn’t a criminal, but a victim. And I want you to know that I don’t abandon family.”

Eugene’s eyes widened in surprise as he had been bracing himself, prepared to be cast out.

“I’m… family?”

“That’s right.”

He smiled gently, his eyes soft.

“Then Cynthia noona is family too, right?”

Massera’s lips pressed into a straight line, but then curved again as he became aware of the child’s gaze.