Chapter 5
“You can hide it and no one will know.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“You’re the one who’s hurt, young master. Why are you apologizing to me?”
Seriously, always like this. Pretending to be kind and weak right up until the moment he kills me. He sure was good at acting. The child, staring quietly as I treated his wrist, opened his mouth hesitantly.
“Then… thank you?”
“That’s nicer to hear than an apology.”
At those words, he beamed, scattering a radiant smile. He was still cheerful despite being ten years old.
‘Well, I guess that’s normal for a kid.’
In moments like this, it felt like I could kill him without hesitation. But despite his appearance, he was a child who had survived multiple assassination attempts. I couldn’t kill him easily. He was the protagonist, after all. A main character wouldn’t die that simply.
His death would only serve as a means for mine. The system would probably eliminate me, an extra, before I could even kill him.
‘…I wonder what would happen if I did kill him.’
If the protagonist really died, what would become of this world? Maybe it would collapse beyond repair—or perhaps they’d bring him back. Either way, the system would surely be enraged.
And maybe it would finally kill me. But who knew if that would actually work? My wishes had never come true before.
* * *
Time passed uneventfully.
“Maid!”
As soon as I opened the door, the child ran toward me. His white hair was tied back in a ponytail, and blood dripped from the back of his hand.
It was clearly painful, but the child looked at me expectantly.
A small sigh escaped me.
“Young master.”
At my words, his shoulders flinched. He shrank back, glancing up at me.
“Why did you do this?”
“W-Well…”
This was a self-inflicted wound. The duchess didn’t use knives. Neither did anyone else.
An assassin might, but they’d go for something more fatal—not just the back of the hand.
As I pressed him, tears welled up in his eyes.
“If you want something, just command it.”
“No! It’s not that…”
“Then what is it?”
This was the first time. The child had always treated his body carefully. He hated being in pain—he was already sick so often, there was no reason to hurt himself.
So why now?
I stared at him. His eyes darted around nervously. After hesitating for a long time, he finally confessed.
“Because I like… it.”
“What?”
“When you treat my wounds…”
All that—just for this?
“It’s the first time… So I wanted to keep receiving it…”
He added, as if trying to justify himself. As if begging me not to hate him, he looked at me pitifully.
…What a truly foolish child.
‘It’s not even the first time.’
You were always getting hurt. Treating you was part of my job.
No matter who hurt you or what the situation was, I always patched you up. But you didn’t even remember something that simple.
‘You always forget.’
Despite being someone who could kill others so easily, you were hopelessly stupid about this sort of thing. I couldn’t understand this child who sometimes seemed like an entirely different person.
“Give me your arm.”
“Ah, okay…!”
Without another word, I brought water, and he quickly extended his hand.
You really cut deep. I wet a cloth and wiped the blood away. It must sting, but he didn’t even blink.
He cried so easily about other things but stayed calm through this. And kept watching me the whole time. I pretended not to notice and finished the treatment.
“Don’t do this again.”
“…I’m sorry.”
He looked completely dejected. I was exhausted too. Even though I’d grown sick of this child, sometimes he did things I never expected.
‘I’m the foolish one, really.’
Just as I turned to leave, my feet stopped.
That expression stuck with me. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself—ashamed of what he’d done.
“Treatment is possible, but I can’t stop the pain.”
So I said something pointless. Even with treatment, it would sting when touched or when it got wet.
“You don’t like pain, right?”
“I hate it…”
“Then don’t do it.”
Especially not something like this.
Even if I was the one trying to kill him, I still said it.
“Th-Then—”
“It’s new, but you’ll get used to it. You’ll get used to not doing this sort of thing.”
Because you’ll keep getting hurt until then. And I’ll be the one treating you.
Unless you die—then everything resets.
‘Just like always.’
At first, the child was awkward, but he gradually got used to it. Eventually, he didn’t even hide when getting treatment.
I could say it with certainty because I’d seen it so many times. And maybe that’s why he looked so happy to hear it. His eyes slowly blinked, then curved with joy.
“You’ll stay with me?”
He lightly grabbed the hem of my skirt with a voice full of hope.
“…I suppose.”
As long as you don’t kill me, I’ll stay. Not that I expect that to happen.
At first, I wanted to stay too—but that was just a meaningless hope. No matter how much I wanted it, there was nothing I could do.
‘Ah, would it all end if I die?’
That is, if I could really disappear—but something had changed.
“I’m your maid, after all.”
Until I die, I’d have to stay. I answered lightly, and he smiled brightly. He looked genuinely happy to have me around.
It didn’t seem like an act at all. His smile was so natural it almost fooled me. Maybe that’s why I wanted to believe in him.
Because you always approached me like it was genuine. I wanted to believe in you until the end.
…I used to, at least. I’m not so sure now.
There were times when I wanted to kill you on sight. But sometimes, I wanted to protect you.
It was a twisted emotion I couldn’t even understand myself.
* * *
I had made up my mind, so I had to act. This was bound to be a long game. Until the system finally killed me, I’d have to keep killing the male lead.
‘I have to move.’
I didn’t want to hesitate anymore.
It had been exactly one week since my return. The current time: the darkest hour before dawn. The perfect time to kill a sleeping child. That’s why I was standing outside his room now.
I checked the dagger tucked in my chest. I’d need to strike while he slept—end it in one blow.
‘He should be asleep at this hour.’
I was nervous—he was a child, but this was still a murder attempt.
I steeled myself and quietly turned the doorknob. Careful not to make a sound, I peeked inside. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room. As I drew closer, I saw the child sleeping soundly.
‘Not pretending.’
This was how he always looked when sleeping. I hesitated, then drew the dagger from my chest. The blade gleamed blue in the moonlight.
Just as I raised the dagger, an unexpected hesitation crept in.
‘After all he’s done to me, I still don’t want to kill him.’
Was it because he was a child? Or because we’d been together so long? He forgot me every time, but I never forgot him. I remembered everything about him.
I couldn’t forget the child who struggled to survive in this hellish reality. Even when I tried, I’d just come back to life again.
‘Still… I have to do it.’
If I stopped now, I’d regret it. I’d never forgive myself for being swayed by emotion.
I had to kill him—to end this life.
I grit my teeth and raised the dagger. But my blade never reached his heart. My resolve shattered in an instant.
‘An intruder?’
A presence I hadn’t expected.
Instinctively, I hid behind the wardrobe. I focused on the balcony—where the curtain began to shift.
The window opened.
An assassin clad entirely in black slipped inside.
He must’ve been a novice—he hadn’t noticed me. He silently crept toward the sleeping child. As if weighing how to strike.
At this rate, he’d attempt the assassination.
‘This is bad.’
The male lead wouldn’t die to an assassin. He’d probably fight back—and win.
But then the real trouble would start. He’d definitely suspect me.
‘He’ll think I leaked the info.’
Just like every other time. If his guard goes up, it’ll be harder for me to kill him.
Things were going south fast. My carefully built resolve now felt pointless.
‘Guess I don’t have a choice.’
I tightened my grip on the dagger.
First, I had to turn this situation to my advantage.
Which meant… changing the target.
‘I can do this.’
If there’s one thing I’ve grown used to—it’s the death of others.
At first, I wanted so badly to live. Later, it became a matter of survival.
The reasons varied, but I eventually learned: sometimes you have to kill to stay alive.
Once I realized that, I got used to it. Especially when it came to assassins.
Escaping them unscathed was never easy. The child often used me as a shield. So if I wanted to survive—I had to kill.
At first, I wasn’t strong enough and got killed repeatedly.
But with enough experience, I got the hang of it. How to die faster, how to kill faster.
Knowledge I never needed, but gained anyway.
Now my body moved with practiced ease.
I held my breath and rose onto my toes.
I waited for the breeze through the window—using its path to mask my presence.
I wasn’t on the assassin’s level, but I’d picked up a few tricks.
‘Go for the neck. One strike.’
Fast enough that he couldn’t react.
And then—it was done.
His exposed neck came into view.
As naturally as breathing, my hand moved.
Without a hint of hesitation, I cut him down.
