Chapter 4
Back when Laura was the marquis’s loyal dog and Marsha was merely a maid—
Marsha was summoned daily by Jeppetto, the marquis’s eldest son, and tormented.
The reason was simple.
Jealousy and inferiority.
And the root cause was the marquis himself.
“You have noble blood in your veins, yet you’re no better than an adopted girl.”
The marquis constantly compared his son to Laura and belittled him.
To Jeppetto, who took great pride in his noble lineage, nothing was more humiliating.
But what could he do? His father clearly favored the adopted one.
Jeppetto, desperate for his father’s love but too afraid to confront Laura directly, turned to bullying Marsha instead.
His go-to tactics included:
“Hey, maid. I’m thinking of moving rooms. Take all this stuff upstairs.”
“Where are all my things, maid? Huh? I gave no such order. When? What time? Got proof?”
Meaningless commands and nitpicky accusations.
He’d even frame her to steal money or possessions.
“Forget about wages. You should be grateful I haven’t fired you.”
“I saw you take that silver brooch from Father’s room.”
“I didn’t steal it. I’m not even allowed in that room!”
“I said I saw it. Are you calling me a liar?”
Any money he extorted was blown on drinking and entertainment.
And today—
“Give it back.”
It was her second time asking.
“What’s this?”
“…It’s something my mother left me.”
“Wow. I guess commoners hand down trash and call it heirlooms, huh?”
Jeppetto spun the worn handkerchief between his fingers and let out a sneering laugh. The other servants forced laughter too—because not laughing meant getting hit.
“What’s with the sour face? Don’t want it back?”
“No, sir.”
“Right? Gotta know your place if you wanna live long.”
The first thing I did after becoming Laura was beat the hell out of Jeppetto.
He was a classic coward—loud with the weak, silent before the strong.
Even when I took Marsha away from the mansion, he hadn’t dared resist.
Once I’d gathered enough secret funds and established a stable base, I moved out of the estate entirely.
That’s why I hadn’t seen his face in ages.
‘Oh right, he was always like this.’
Perched arrogantly on a chair, flicking his fingers like calling a stray dog—he couldn’t be more condescending.
“What are you waiting for? Dance for me or something, then I’ll think about giving it back—”
SLAM.
The door banged open with a thunderous crash.
Jeppetto’s body stiffened. His gaze shot toward the door.
The only person who would enter like that in this mansion… was the marquis.
He flinched, thinking it was his father.
What a coward.
Getting the handkerchief back was easy. He was too frozen to stop me. I tossed it over without warning, but Marsha caught it.
‘Good. One thing solved.’
“W-What the hell? When did you get here?!”
Jeppetto finally regained some wits and scrambled to rise from his chair.
Trying to act like nothing had happened. Trying to escape.
Yeah, not happening.
I grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back into the chair. He gasped for breath.
His pride wouldn’t let him admit pain, so he just furrowed his brow.
“What’re you gonna do? Hit me?”
Even so, his trembling lips gave him away.
“Why not?”
I cracked my neck. Jeppetto cursed under his breath.
“What the hell happened to you? You come back and suddenly lose your mind? Are you crazy?”
“Sorry, I’m perfectly sane.”
He was scared but tried to put up a front.
And that’s when I realized something.
Not only had it been a while since I’d seen Jeppetto—but it had also been a while since he dared look me in the eyes.
After the last beating, he’d skittered around like a frightened dog.
‘Once I found out he tormented Marsha endlessly… I regretted not hitting him more.’
So yeah.
“I’ve been meaning to give you one more round.”
Jeppetto wasn’t just dumb—he also hated physical exertion. No special abilities either.
In a one-on-one, he had no chance.
“If you use your spirit powers, Father’s gonna find out.”
“Why bother? Not worth it.”
Laura’s original spirit was Sirin, the Spirit of Sound.
Unlike Akapillace, who was forcefully unsummoned, Sirin could still be called.
But not now.
I’d left baby Seraphina with Sirin.
Originally, I was going to ask Rudina to babysit her—
-
Rudina replies that as someone more useless than air, she sees nothing.
Not helpful.
‘Still holding a grudge, huh.’
More importantly—
“Trash like you can be beaten just fine with fists.”
Why waste cards when the situation’s already in my favor?
I curled my fist and threw it.
Jeppetto’s scrawny body flew backward.
He tumbled out of the chair and rolled across the floor.
He was so stunned, he didn’t even scream.
“Hey. You better protect your head.”
“W-What?”
Not that I cared.
‘Nice weather today.’
The cloudy sky hinted at rain.
A perfect day—no dust when you beat someone up.
As Jeppetto blinked in confusion, I readied my stance.
Time to show you what a real villainess looks like.
✦ ✦ ✦
History is the record of an era.
So depending on who’s writing it, even the same event can be erased—or exaggerated.
But not everything gets written in history books.
Most of it doesn’t.
The small marks hidden behind someone else’s grand tale—dots, lines, blank spaces.
We call them individual effort, blood, or grit.
In short: life.
The marquis’s curse was based on history—on others’ memories. It couldn’t erase my life.
That’s why my contract with Akapillace hadn’t been broken either.
Same with my physical strength.
I had set out to climb a mountain and punch the final boss in the face. There was no way I stayed weak.
I wasn’t exactly a prizefighter, but I’d trained enough to knock out a pampered noble brat like Jeppetto.
Which is how…
“You really think you’ll get away with this?!”
…I turned Jeppetto into a bloody mess all by myself.
Servants were present but too scared of Laura to interfere. Knights were absent because Jeppetto had dismissed them earlier.
And Marsha?
No way she wanted to save him.
“D-Doors, and when Father gets back, you’ll be banished! You’ll never set foot in this mansion again!”
Even with several teeth missing and one cheek swollen like a balloon, he kept yelling.
Apparently, throwing tantrums was his specialty.
“Y-You think this is over? I’ll finish you! You think I’ll just let this slide?! Butler! Bring the papers!”
By “papers,” he meant disownment forms.
As the heir, he had access to the family registry.
But the butler wasn’t on his side. He awkwardly stepped back, hesitant to obey.
“But… the master—”
“Don’t you see my face right now?!”
Of course he didn’t care.
The butler was old. Jeppetto was a spoiled brat. And their real master? Had no tolerance for mercy.
Meanwhile, I…
‘Do they still not know?’
After observing from a distance, I found the answer.
‘Of course. It makes sense.’
In the original story, the marquis escaped the cave, destroyed half the capital, and slaughtered people—including the emperor.
But this time, we ended it quietly.
So it wasn’t surprising they still thought he was alive.
Even the marquis didn’t trust subordinates—he never announced anything.
‘They’ll find out soon enough.’
Even if the blame fell solely on the marquis, that would still be bad.
The marquis thought his son was just a little dim.
But he was wrong. Jeppetto was a lot dim.
‘Who deals drugs just because their allowance is low?!’
I was sure. This house was doomed.
Meanwhile, Jeppetto’s servant finally returned with the papers and tossed them at me.
“S-Sign it! Now!”
“…”
Disownment papers.
If I were the original Laura, I would’ve begged.
After all, everything she had—status, freedom to wreak havoc—depended on her being a noble lady.
Jeppetto knew that, too.
“What, don’t want to?”
He plopped into a chair and crossed his legs smugly.
He probably never intended to go through with the disownment. He just wanted to watch me grovel.
“Beg nicely and maybe I’ll consi—huh?”
“Here. I signed.”
I didn’t see it that way.
If they wanted to kick me out of a collapsing house?
‘That’s a jackpot, thanks very much.’
