Chapter 35

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I woke up.
… I hear voices from somewhere.

Someone is quarreling with another, it seems.

“… Oswald Ricks! Are you not listening to what I say!?”

“… I’m telling you that the deal won’t come through if you turn her into damaged goods beforehand.”

… Whoa, they are saying something dangerous.

Rather, who is “her”? Me? That’s me, isn’t it? Just look at the situation.
… I have not opened my eyes yet though.

… Still, one of those people talking did say “Oswald”, did he not?
It appears that Oswald is talking with someone I do not know.

… Just what is it about?

I don’t have any memories after Oswald made me drink the drug.
I have been most likely sleeping until now.

It seems that I was laying down on a flat place, but it’s hard on top of being extremely cold, like a stone or concrete.

… Because I was sleeping on the floor, my body is hurting a lot.
I will press charges later, alright?

… Rather, I’d like to grasp the situation, so I should be opening my eyes soon though.

“I want to clear up my twenty-year-old resentment though…!”

…? twenty-year-old resentment?
That’s quite a long resentment you have there.

This person that is talking with Oswald apparently has extremely obstinate character.

“… That’s why I am telling you to endure for a little longer.”

Oswald’s voice was extremely cold unlike his cheery voice at the school.
A coldness exceeded even Rishell. Far from absolute zero.

“… Are you all right not being able to take revenge just because of violating this girl?”

“… Ku! You better remember this, you brat!”

The person Oswald was talking left thanks to his sound argument… no, I don’t know what kind of sound argument was that, but he left the room while roughly breathing out.

Bang! the door closed.

“… Haah, the head of the Arsale House is a troublesome one.”

So said Oswald, but I have no knowledge of someone with such family name.

Otousama and Okaasama seem to associate with many nobles, but it’s not like I uncover everyone…

While thinking such, going in circles, Oswald approached.

Not good, not good! I don’t what he will do to me if he realizes that I am not asleep anymore!
I closed my eyes hard, and pretended to breathe calmly.

… But, it was useless.

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“… Olga, you are awake, aren’t you?”

… To think he would utter such manga-ish line in a real life.
Moreover, it wasn’t passionate, but hard-boiled.

… I opened my eyes while thinking about something incomprehensible.

When I opened my eyes, Oswald stood before me wearing the same clothes, making the same expression, wearing the same shoes.
Even though everything’s supposed to be the same, I felt that he was different in some way.

“… When did you notice?”

“Since that pig snapped because he couldn’t violate you.”

No, you noticed from the moment I woke up? What is this fellow?
Is he perhaps an assassin too?

… Was my breathing the problem?
That would be gross if he noticed from that though.

While thinking something extremely rude, I looked into Oswald’s eyes.

“… What do you want from me?”

This is what I don’t understand the most.
I did not know Oswald at all until I got to know him through Lance.

I don’t remember the names of all my classmates, so people from the other classes… eh, let’s leave that aside.
The problem is that I had unconditionally believed Oswald.

Although sweet words would absolutely never work on me.
It’s probably because I have seen him as Lance’s friend.

… I trusted him too much.
Even though I would have never gone if I knew this would happen…

Well, I can’t see the future, so it cannot be helped.
I’m not like a certain futuristic robot after all.

… I have not seen my future since coming to this world… I hope it won’t end here though.

Leaving the beloved robot aside, I seem to be valuable to Oswald for some reason.
He might be trying to get my family involved too.

“… I detest your little brother.”

“… Why?”

Celsior is not a child that would make others want to kidnap people.
We have been a family (although a fake one) for a long time, so I know that much.

… It would be different if he was wearing a mask like Rishell, but Celsior’s thoughts easily project on his face.

“… What? Has he taken your woman? Even though he told me that he never went on a date before.”

“That’s not it!? … Seems like you are composed enough to joke around.”

Wrong. This is only to regain my usual, calm way of speaking.
The truth is, I’m scared. I don’t know when I am going to die or how will I die.

Taking a philosophic view that dying anytime is all right might be good, but that’s not possible for me.

Aren’t I here because I cut ties with my family and friends to survive?

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