Chapter 53. Rewriting Fate - Round 4 (3)
I'm Sorry For Being Born In This World!
The Fighter, Vahn, thought of the warmth from the hands that caressed him. He remembered the warmth that resembled the spring sun as well as the kindness that didnât care to be repaid.
Morto Hai.
She, the strongest white wizard in the world, saved Vahn as he lay dying on the streets. She could have just ignored him. But she didnât. Instead, she took him, a person she had never even seen before, and nursed him back to full health for four days straight. How could he forget? Even now he could see her kind smile when he closed his eyes. Even her pained and saddened face-- he could see it all.
----If there was one thing he could ask for from god, it would be her happiness.
He hadnât repaid her yet. He wanted to stay near her and help her, but his worries of dragging her down only made him watch her from afar.
âAt least now...!â
He put on the arm guards that had video game pads inscribed on it. After that, he put on a noose around his neck like a convict and stood on his toes.
Not yet.
Not yet.
He repeated this phrase to himself a countless number of times as if he was attempting to persuade death. He wanted to give this life to Morto if he could, but he knew better than anyone that he didnât have long to live in the first place. If he were to do anything, he only had this one chance. If he failed again, he would need to pay for all he had done up till now.
[Rewriting Fate = Save & Load]
Even with the ability to save at a certain point in time and move back into the past, he had failed in saving Morto. The reason was simply because he didnât have enough talent. There was no other way to explain it.
If only he had been a better person... If only he was a person worthy enough to stand next to her with pride...
Useless thoughts. Vahn felt the sun beginning to set and looked up. What came into view was a panoramic view of the stair village. His eyes drifted over to a small house at the edge of this village.
âPlease...â
For a future filled with happiness. So that the two wonât be played by fate. The boy atop the mountain repeats his life over and over again.
Almost as if heâs stuck in a neverending dream.
*
A scary movie in the theaters. That was the rule that I set for myself. It wasnât because I wanted to see the saint get scared. Well, I wouldnât mind looking at it. But the saint managed to shatter my expectations completely and just watched the movie with a neutral face as she munched on her caramel popcorn.
âHah!â
She occasionally let out a laugh.
This was not at all what I expected. To think sheâd be this desensitized to this sort of thing... I suppose even the scariest ghosts look like weak monsters to her. They wouldnât even stand a chance against her either. There was no reason for her to be afraid of something that was weaker than her. Even so, to think that she wouldnât even try to look scared...
Whenever the others screamed âkyaâ, the saint raised the corners of her lips to let out a âhehâ. Like this, she resembled a seasoned exorcist. Itâs not like she was going so far as to start talking about how sheâd take care of the ghosts but... This was bad enough to make the movie director cry.
Slurp, slurp.
The saint sucked up everything in her cup in one fell swoop and glared at the whimpering couple near her. Based on the light in her eyes, it almost seemed like she was about to do something. She was occasionally glancing at me too. Donât tell me she was about to act scared now...
âKya~â
She was half a beat too late compared to the others. She was bad at acting too. She attempted to hug me with a face more full of excitement than anything. I put my hand on her forehead and stopped her.
Fwoosh.
The theater became slightly brighter as a blue flame lit my hand. At the same time, everyone in the theater turned to look at the saint. The saintâs eyes instantly became filled with confusion and chaos. She put down her hands, and slowly buried herself into the chair. She must be embarrassed. Embarrassed enough to look like a steamed octopus.
...I still donât get it.
Was it possible for a person to like another of its kind with pure emotions? Were they not confusing their desires to reproduce? What was their reason for even liking someone?
I felt that there was something wrong with me as a human. There probably wonât ever be a day when I would understand the saintâs feelings.
Not that I wanted to in the first place.
We moved back down after the movie. The floor we were on was a floor dedicated to albums and books. There was a book cafe in one corner, so we took a seat there. The saint swung her legs back and forth playfully in her seat and tried on a headband that she had just bought.
Was this the new fad nowadays...? A motor that moved according to the brainwaves of the wearer.
The cat ears on the hairband were flapping around wildly. It was probably trying to convey the saintâs current emotions.
âLook, look, Mr. Murderer. Iâm going to stop your heart with these cat ears!â
She took a magical girl pose she saw from a TV show and attempted to look cute. Again, the people around us shouted âcuteâ and madly took pictures.
Sheâs totally an idol.
When she pretended to shoot me with a finger gun, the males behind me fell back with an âughâ.
What the hell...?
âNow, now, Mr. Murderer! You should try wearing this as well.â
I pushed the cat ears away.
âDonât want to.â
âShining...â
She was resorting to threats. Despite saying the key words, she didnât actually gather any mana. I suppose she was a little unsure about using it in public like this.
âYouâre too shy.â
The saint said this as she put the headband back into its box.
âMr. Murderer, you talk too little. You never let out anything that youâre thinking, do you?â
âThereâs not much to talk about.â
We didnât have a shared interest either. The saint became worked up.
âWhy wouldnât there be anything to talk about? We could talk about what we like, or we could talk about what happened recently. Itâs quite fun to learn about what a person likes. For example, you like detective novels donât you? I enjoy circling the name of the criminal and marking down (â Heâs it) on the first chapter.â
âThatâs evil!â
âIâm joking. Dear oh dear, do you really think Iâd do something as cruel as that?â
You seem exactly like the type of person to do something like that... The saint took a sip from her iced coffee.
âAnyway, whatâs all this about? Normally youâd get extremely annoyed when I ask you to do anything with me.â
So she knew how much I disliked being bothered. Well, I did show it quite a bit in the first place.
âThereâs a problem. I just escaped in order to find a way to solve it.â
I explained everything that happened to the saint. Starting from the fact that the day has repeated three times, all the way to the fact that I had raised my luck stat all the way to a hundred.
âI donât know the cause for this. I just escaped here with you just in case this was an attack of some sort from the enemy. As long as weâre here, no physical harm should come to us.â
âWhat if it isnât an attack?â
The saintâs remark caused a small ripple in my thoughts.
So it was just prejudice...
She was right. There might have been a probability that this was not an attack in the first place. Was this ability really being used to attack us? Repeating a day over and over again was, in some sense, giving us a chance to do something. Itâs not that weâre trapped in a certain loop, but...
Does the person want something specific to happen?
If there was an enemy that we are to fight, the subject of the enemyâs power was âmeâ. I was the target. That would mean that in the end, the person was waiting for me to change in some way. But there was something that couldnât be explained with this theory.
âWhat about my luck stat?â
âDear, dear. To think you havenât even noticed yet... Isnât being able to date me a great fortune in itself?â
Right. Iâm scrapping this theory. The saint was no help.
âAh! I saw it, that face. You just thought I was no help didnât you? To think youâd think such a thing in front of such a beautiful girl like me... How impudent! How impudent indeed!â
âWhy would you try to impersonate a king at a time like this... Whatever. Even if we do have an enemy, we just have to endure it till he runs out of energy.â
âThen, after this day... Would this memory, d-disappear?â
The saint asked this question while her voice was trembling voice. Was she disappointed? That feeling would disappear as well.
âOf course it would. Without a trace.â
âI... See...â
What was she thinking? The saint smiled brightly as if to show that she was unfazed, but I could see that she was a little unenergetic compared to before. This isnât ideal. The reason I brought her here in the first place was because I disliked seeing her like that. I stood up and told the saint to follow. The saint stopped fiddling with her paper cup and widened her eyes.
âWhat, where?â
The answer to that obviously would be...
âWeâre going on a drive.â
I dragged the saint towards me. She had been fiddling with her fingers with the desire to grab my hand for quite some time. When I actually grabbed her hand, she became a little surprised and confused. My hand was burning in pain because of her holy power, but... Iâd have to endure at least this much.
âThank you for using our services! Please have a great day!â
When the hell did he get there? The manager, who had been waiting with a card reader in hand, followed us all the way outside to bid me his farewells. I received my car keys as soon as I walked out from an assistant. It took time to buy things using Heart of Gold, so I hired an assistant to buy the car for me.
Thankfully, he bought it just on time. The sportscar that was parked in front of the entrance of the multiplex was getting the attention of everyone nearby. There were a few people brave enough to get near it, but the only thing they dared to was to take a selfie with it.
A full-time 4WD 6.5L V12 engine. It does zero to a hundred km/h in 2.9 seconds, and boasts a maximum speed of 350km/h. The flashy and sharp appearance that this car possessed was unique to only this car.
Lamborghini Aventador RED.
The crowd around it was muttering to themselves, wondering just who the owner of this car was.
Beep.
I unlocked the car with the smart key and opened the passenger door for the saint. The crowd let out gasps of astonishment from just this.
âWow, did you just see that?â
âIt must be his. He must have quite a lot of cash.â
The attention I was getting was almost annoying. Maybe I shouldâve bought a cheaper car. When I confirmed that the saint was seated in the car, I closed the door. Her worries should be blown away after we go on a nice drive. Well, from the looks of things, her worries seemed to be gone already.
How simple.
I sat myself down in the driverâs seat with a smile and started the car.