The Girl Wants to Be M*rdered

Chapter 50



Building new relationships is always a scary thing.

Strangers and unfamiliar places.

Even in a situation where I might fall into a distant, isolated place with no one to rely on, I can’t just smile like a carefree child.

Thud, thud.

Surrounded by thorny paths.

A vast prairie where there’s no space to hide, filled with starving beasts roaming about.

Who would dare to be comfortable there?

At least, not me.

An unspeakable feeling of loss hits me, and I desperately want to stop my steps right here, but still, I continue to walk steadily forward.

Because behind my back, beside me, there are beings supporting me.

Thud, thud.

The sound of footsteps from two people crosses the wide corridor, a little more than just one.

“This is the classroom where Hahn will have lessons from now on. Is there any part that you need further explanation on?”

“Oh, no. That’s enough… Hahaha.”

“…If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to ask the guide who resides in the building at all times.”

Seeing her bow deeply in front of me, I too couldn’t help but bow my head.

Could it be because my confused expression was amusing and fresh?

A warm laugh from the staff brushed over my head.

Dressed neatly in an outfit that could definitely be called ‘beautiful,’ reminiscent of a formal suit from a past life, the staff spoke to me in a tone so polite that it put me rather off guard.

Indeed.

Famous for the slogan, ‘Anything but sin cannot be a sin.’

A citizen of an empire, accommodating all the ethnicities and cultures of other nations.

But my hostility towards the unknown merely shifted to curiosity and wonder.

Black hair, black eyes.

A rare appearance even in the empire, so the gaze that felt strangely alien continually followed me, and they were not the kind of things that could easily become familiar to me.

Rather, somewhat unpleasant—

“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

“…Yes, thank you for your hard work.”

To be honest, my fear of others still occupied my heart.

No matter how good the treatment is, scars left by deep wounds don’t easily vanish, just like the scars from Syria Village always torment me.

The chatter between passing people felt like they were mocking me, and everyone who approached me for a conversation seemed suspicious.

…Though it’s much better than before.

The cold persecution and stark indifference that I’ve suffered in my second life became a kind of trauma, so it can’t be helped.

“…This is the academy I’ve only heard stories about.”

But I learned.

That everyone I like and feel close to also started from small connections.

Alice, who has now become a priceless relationship,

Even Saelli, who initially had some arguments and fights, but after sharing everything has become someone I trust and can talk to comfortably;

All of them began as connections from zero.

Even if we can’t understand each other’s inner thoughts, we must trust others first.

Otherwise, relationships won’t even be born.

What I need is trust, and I learned that through Alice.

…Well, I think Alice should also learn to be somewhat suspicious of others.

“That child is too kind for her own good.”

Tap, tap.

The staff leaves, and now, apart from my own presence, nothing else can be heard in this quiet space.

In the corridor connecting buildings, I slowly walked while reminiscing about memories that have now become distant past.

Recalling the past while walking in the present.

The warm sunlight pierced sharply into my eyes, but I didn’t care and instead opened my eyes wide, firmly imprinting this moment in my mind.

I am alive.

Huh…

Like seeing a star that I couldn’t reach in that chaotic past life, a small glimmer of hope I had dreamed of.

And now, strangely enough, I’ve reached that dream.

Yeah.

I am now at the academy.

A beautiful voice filling the classroom without a single tremor.

Students at the peak of their vitality listen carefully to the words of a woman holding a small, thin teaching stick, writing down everything with potential exam content.

Of course, there are students snoozing or messing around in the mix.

It would be valid to frown at such antics, but the teacher continued without a care.

“The history of the Akard Empire is, without a doubt, a history made alongside mercenaries.”

What spills out are tales of the past.

Once, the Akard Empire was merely a small commercial nation.

Although there were military forces directly managed by the state, the number of citizens was low, making each life important, so most military strength relied heavily on mercenaries.

Mercenaries.

With their unique combat techniques and specialized tactics, they are regarded as one of the oldest professions in humanity’s history.

For those whose money is their lifeblood.

But due to the nature of mercenaries living and dying by money, conflicts often arose starting from salary disputes, which was unavoidable.

Nations who hired mercenaries without considering these issues experienced a variety of bitter repercussions.

Except for one country here.

Unlike other nations facing rebellions and such issues, the Akard Empire was able to maintain a relatively happy income through active trade, easing the salary problems of mercenaries to some extent.

Paying to ask for protection, mercenaries receiving money in return.

A moment when both parties’ interests aligned perfectly.

They even built such a strong trust relationship that mercenaries could take part in protecting royalty.

Mercenaries preferred the Akard Empire over other countries where they could risk missing salary payments, and high-level mercenaries had already emigrated significantly to the empire.

That was a huge fortune for the empire.

Soon, ominous signs loomed in the skies.

“The world-shaking war fortunately did not hit the empire completely.”

There is a theory of three sharpshooters.

One with a 100% hit rate.

Another with a 70% hit rate.

And finally, one possessing a mere 30% skill.

If they all fired a bullet simultaneously, the person most likely to survive is the one with the lowest skills, that’s the theory.

It might be shocking, but the conclusion is that surprisingly, the one who cannot shoot well is the one who survives.

How ironic that a non-threat is more likely to survive.

Isn’t that truly ironic?

But the world is inherently unreasonable.

Unreasonable, unreasonable, and a series of coincidences.

“But why didn’t the surrounding powerful nations invade the Akard Empire?”

“…What the other countries were thinking at that time, we cannot say for certain as outsiders.”

A student who had been listening attentively threw out a question that could seem surprising.

Yet the teacher, without stumbling, unraveled the explanation.

Her pointing stick lightly swept over the locations of the great powers that had waged war back then.

“Of course, they probably considered the geographical advantages of the Akard Empire enticing enough to eye it—”

Harbors, a foothold of war.

It was so valid that the student’s question seemed odd if they didn’t aim for it.

However, what he forgot was that the world doesn’t operate so simply.

“We can speculate several reasons.”

With the caveat that it is purely speculation, she began to explain the reasons in detail.

She spoke of how, while in a full-blown war against other countries, it might have been too risky to attack a small but solidly powerful nation like the Akard Empire.

If they took this military focal point, thoughts of facing an attacking onslaught from other countries like hyenas would make it prudent to steer clear.

Or perhaps they simply had no leisure for it at all.

“Whatever the conclusion may be, the Akard Empire not only survived in that war that engulfed every country but also began to seize the war-torn neighboring nations with overwhelming profits.”

To put it bluntly, it was pure luck.

A luck built from a series of small fortunes.

A chance that could be missed with a small mistake.

The Akard Empire merely seized that opportunity.

Yet the mere fact that they reached this far by luck might have been their fortune.

Knowing everything stemmed from luck, they continued to work hard without growing complacent.

“However, despite the empire growing larger, the need for mercenaries rose even more instead of decreasing.”

An expanded territory, an increased population, and a nation drawing in massive profits.

But a fat pig will only be a meal for the beasts.

The empire needed to sharpen its fangs and claws, even to defend itself.

Of course, that brought about further problems.

“Maintaining an army requires enormous costs…”

“Correct.”

Money.

Not only in waging wars but also in simply recruiting and training soldiers incurs tremendous expenditures.

Feeding, cleaning, resting them.

Not to mention the implicit costs stemming from not being able to produce goods or farm due to those expenses, maintaining high combat strength fitting for a large empire was not an easy task.

And again, highlighted in the mix was mercenaries.

Instead of soldiers who would become useless if no war broke out, they turned them into mercenaries who could accumulate experience while earning suitable profits through contracts.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Mercenaries, possessing high versatility as standing troops, could not be a better system for an empire friendly towards mercenaries that had a diverse range of them.

So, the empire’s history is equivalent to the history of mercenaries.

The mercenaries pursuing freedom and money— they are the symbol and pride of the empire.

Thus, it is inevitable for them to come to the Museion.

“—So, for the next three years, please welcome a fellow student who will share knowledge about mercenaries with you all!”

“””…..!!!”””

Such a sudden introduction.

It would be normal to be surprised, but since some prior hint was given, the students quickly got back on track.

Then, sounds akin to thunder filled the classroom, brimming with high expectations.

Even the students sitting quietly couldn’t hide their excitement on their faces.

The teacher standing at the podium lightly turned towards the entrance she originally came from.

Click.

The door opened with a small noise.

“I present to you, the wings of the empire, belonging to the Wallenstein mercenary band.”

What she announced was the name of the mercenary group that had recently been gaining prominence and making a name for itself.

Amidst the cheers, the sound of their footsteps grew louder, raising the tension even more.

Slowly, a figure appeared.

“—Here is Hahn, Sia.”

“…Nice to meet you.”

The entrance of the new visitor.

The classroom was filled with an overwhelming applause that was almost blinding.



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