TPBDN 01

Chapter 1

“Get away from me, you witch!”

“Don’t come near us! You’re creepy!”

Children’s mocking voices echoed as they surrounded the little girl.
At the center stood a small child with shining silver hair and blue eyes, shouting back in frustration.

“I’m not a witch!”

Her defiant tone must have annoyed them, because one of the children picked up something from the ground and threw it at her.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said get lost!”

The object flew close enough to graze her face as she dodged. It nicked her cheek, leaving a thin cut behind.

‘If the headmaster sees this wound, she’s going to go crazy.’

The girl turned her gaze toward the child who’d thrown it, dread filling her as she imagined the punishment waiting for her later. The sharpness in her eyes made the boy flinch and step back.

Without hesitation, the girl lunged forward and punched him in the face.
The boy staggered, clutching his cheek in shock as the girl shouted fiercely, not even minding the sting in her knuckles.

“You’re going to get the same treatment from the headmaster!”

It was as if her motto was “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”

“Hey! Grab her!”

The boy who’d been hit barked orders at the others, and the rest of the group rushed in to hold her down. The girl struggled desperately in their grip.

“Stop it!”

But of course, none of them listened.

“The headmaster says that face of yours is special? I’ll make sure you can’t use it anymore!”

The moment the boy said it, his fist swung toward her.
Bound tightly, she couldn’t avoid it. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the pain.

How much time passed? It should have landed by now.
But no pain came—only an eerie silence.

The girl slowly opened her eyes.

“W-What is this…?”

The boy’s fist hovered an inch from her face, frozen in midair.

The boy himself—frozen solid.
The children pinning her down—frozen too.
Every single one of them stood motionless, as if turned to ice.

“Again… like last time…”

It wasn’t the first time this had happened. It had happened in the town where she’d sold flowers, in the orphanage a few days ago—and now, again.

‘Why does this keep happening?’

A sudden, stabbing pain exploded in her head. The girl fell to her knees, clutching it.
And at that moment, the frozen scene shattered—like breaking ice. The children started to move again.

“She did it again! Just like before!”

The boy’s face twisted in terror as he unclenched his fist.

“She’s going to hurt us all someday!”

“She used that weird power again!”

Fear and disgust filled the room. The girl stumbled backward, unable to defend herself this time. She didn’t even know what this power was—so how could she deny their accusations?

“What is all this noise!”

The headmaster’s shrill voice sliced through the chaos as she flung open the door. The children went silent at once. Her heavy footsteps thudded across the floor, full of irritation.
Her eyes immediately caught the cut on the girl’s face.

“You filthy brats! How dare you scratch her face!”

The headmaster called all the orphans “filthy things” or “vermin.”
Born unwanted and abandoned, growing up trampled like weeds—none of them had real names.

“Headmaster! She did this to me!”
The boy pointed at the girl with teary eyes, and the others quickly chimed in.

“That’s right! She threatened us with her weird powers!”

“Stuff started flying around the room! We almost got hurt!”

They spewed out the kind of lies that would provoke the headmaster the most—anything that sounded expensive or troublesome. It didn’t matter what was true. As long as the blame landed on one person, they’d be safe.

“What? This filthy brat caused trouble again?”

The headmaster yanked the whip from her belt and lashed it at the girl. The girl flinched and curled into a ball.
Just then, the door opened again, and a boy ran in.

“Headmaster!”

The raised whip froze midair as she turned to glare.

“How dare you interrupt me?”

“I’m sorry! I brought the liquor you asked me to buy earlier. You said it was urgent.”

At the sight of the bottle, the headmaster’s face brightened. Her tone softened, rare for her.

“Good work, Rick. Hand it over.”

Taking the bottle like it was a precious treasure, she turned to the children.
“Go get treated. Especially you! Make sure it doesn’t scar.”

Then, as if even a second was too precious to waste, she left the room.
The moment the door closed, Rick rushed to the girl and helped her to her feet.

“Are you okay? Let’s get out of here.”

Afraid the headmaster might suddenly call them back, the two children hurried out of the building and exhaled in relief.

“That must’ve hurt. The headmaster’s been on edge since she said a guest was coming.”

Rick wiped the blood from her forehead with a damp cloth, trying to comfort her.

“A guest? Who?”

“You remember—the ones who came not long after you used your power for the first time here?”

“Oh, those creepy people?”

They’d been strange—watching her with the kind of greedy eyes reserved for valuable objects. The memory made her frown.

“I don’t like them. They were looking at you weirdly. Be careful.”

“I know. Especially since the headmaster called them around the same time I started having these… problems.”

It was obvious. It had to be because of the strange power inside her.

“Rick… do you think I’m really a witch?”

“You idiot. Even witches have to control their powers before they can do bad things. You can’t even do that.”

Her trembling question made Rick meet her eyes.

“Besides, in one of the fairy tales I read, witches commanded dragons. You’ve got a long way to go before that. So don’t listen to what those kids say.”

He clearly already knew what had happened in the room earlier.

“…You noticed?”

“The air in there said it all. I should’ve gone in sooner and stopped them. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s fine. I hit him harder anyway!”

“How is that fine? You got hurt. Here, let me treat it.”

Rick gently pulled away a strand of hair stuck to the blood on her forehead and took out an ointment from his pocket.

“Where did you get that?”

“I hid it while cleaning.”

“What if the headmaster finds out? You know she hates when anyone uses her things.”

The headmaster’s temper was unpredictable—she might have ordered them to be treated, but if she found out her belongings were used, she’d explode.

“She won’t notice for a while. The moment she got the liquor, she went straight to her office. She’ll be out cold soon.”

The girl grimaced, easily guessing what that meant.
The bottle didn’t just contain alcohol.

“…You didn’t run into any trouble while running her errand, did you?”

“I just did what she asked—paid for it and brought it back. Though… she’s been sending me out more often lately.”

“She’s insane. Making a nine-year-old buy her liquor.”

Rick chuckled, giving her a teasing look.

“Says the seven-year-old.”

At that, the girl sighed, remembering something she often forgot—her age.

She was seven this year.
Or rather… technically seven. Because she carried memories of her previous life—when she’d been fifteen.

A time when her father’s violence had reached its peak.

“Well… yeah.”

She forced those memories back down.
She’d died at fifteen, only to wake up again in the Hertia Empire—a name that felt oddly familiar.

That’s when she realized it was the same empire from a tragic novel she’d once read, “The End of Revenge.”

“To think I’d actually end up inside a novel…”

At least she’d been reborn as a nameless orphan, she’d thought—until strange things started happening.

Her unnaturally beautiful appearance.
The mysterious power she couldn’t control.
There were too many signs for her to just be a background extra.