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Chapter 41: Twisted Morals

With a weird feeling, Tia exited the house, the weeping of the woman coming from the inside wearing down on her in an unusual way. Immediately, the sun shone on her face, but it did nothing to dispel her gloomy mood.

'Hmm, maybe I should send her a letter once in a while. I can do at least that for borrowing her daughter's body.'

Ding!

//

The quest was cleared!

Rewards: 2 x witch points; your current vessel now belongs solely to you

//

Her quest and contract were fulfilled, and her storage ring was filled with enough materials and magic grimoires that she could leave without any regret, knowing the journey was worthwhile.

There was only one last problem to solve. 'Where do I store my body? I don't know how long I will be gone. I can't just leave it lying in some hotel.' The only destination etched in her thoughts was the small boutique she had visited once before.

'It is time to work on her.'

With a distant look in her eyes, she walked purposefully down the street, weaving her way through the bustling crowd. The echoes of the recent encounter weighed heavily on her, leaving her mind in a haze.

'All the pain and suffering... No matter how hard someone works, there will always be pain and death waiting for them.'

She didn't want to experience the pain of betrayal, losing those she loved, or dying. The only way she could accomplish it was through absolute power and might. The only path to eternal happiness and bliss wasn't money or fame but one's own strength.

Submerged in her thoughts, she reached her destination.

The small boutique stood empty on the street. The storefront mannequin, which had previously showcased her elegant black dress, remained eerily bare. A large sign hung on the store's door that said: Closed for Renovation.

'It looks like she is using the money I gave her well.' Resolutely, she knocked on the door, the knocks reverberating through the aging building.

Without a moment's hesitation, with a glint in her eyes and a slight gesture, the lock yielded with a click. She swiftly entered, the door sealing shut in her wake.

She waited, and soon the silhouette of the shopkeeper appeared in the back. The blonde's azure eyes widened in sheer surprise. The palpable fear reflected in those eyes, and the quiver of her hand stirred a surge of irritation within her.

'What is it now? I don't have the energy or mood to deal with some drama.'

"I see you are doing well." A huge smile appeared on her face as she didn't give her any break and immediately crossed the distance between them, "Why are you so scared? This time, I even came during the day hours!"

"Did you kill someone?"

The question shocked Tia with how direct and honest it was.

'Is someone pushing nonsense into her head? Who dares to interfere with my plans? Even though she remained smiling, a silent wrath boiled inside of her.' The desire to tear and burn them grew stronger with each passing second.

POV Shopkeeper:

"Yes." The woman answered casually.

Angela was paralyzed by her fear, as she was now sure of it. The woman before her was dangerous—no, not just dangerous, but probably even mentally deranged.

The casual manner in which she spoke about taking life as if it held no moral weight was deeply unsettling.

There was only a single explanation for the sudden visit. Tears welled up in Angela's eyes, and through her trembling voice, she stammered, "S-so it was really you... Have you come to end my life so as to clean your tracks?"

The woman erupted into laughter, the unexpected sound forcing Angela to instinctively step back. "Oh, the things you're saying!" the woman exclaimed, her mirth unabated. "Why on earth would I want to harm you? True, I took their lives, but they were wretched souls who had it coming."

She found no relief in the woman's words; if anything, they heightened her anxiety. 'Yes, there must be something wrong with her head. To laugh in this situation...'

"Wretched souls?"

"You are so naive. The world is a harsh place where one sometimes has to kill if they want to live." The mentally unwell girl methodically closed the distance between them, her steps echoing with deliberate intent.

Gently placing a hand on the trembling blonde's shoulder, she leaned in, her eyes locking onto Angela's. In a hushed tone, laden with a mix of menace and curiosity, she whispered, "Do you really believe I am some evil maniac who murders people for fun?"

'Is this the same hand she used to kill someone?' As she scrutinized the young woman standing so close, she struggled to discern any murderous intent. This woman had never shown any threat towards her, nor had she ever shown malice.

She had always been courteous and considerate, even assisting Angela in her moments of financial difficulty.

'If she was a bad person, she could have just taken the clothes without caring to pay, or even killed on the spot to leave no witnesses.'

Before Angela could even frame a response, the woman pressed on, "Yes, I've taken lives. Many, in fact. But never out of mere sport or twisted pleasure."

'As if that makes it any better.'

"Do you think your life was harsh? Maybe you had to fight to keep the store running, but I had to fight just to live."

"Still, killing someone is bad... There had to be another way!" Angela's voice wavered with emotion, and even though part of her could fathom the woman's reasoning, she couldn't bring herself to morally reconcile with it.

"The men and women I have killed were all scumbags and criminals that were living off human suffering, stealing from the weak while beating the rest into submission." The woman leaned even closer, and her shining eyes almost pierced into her very soul.

'I know those types...' She slightly clenched her fists with resentment at those who mercilessly almost brought her store to bankruptcy: 'Without them, I would still manage.'

The woman's tone turned solemn. "Tell me, how did your parents die?"

The question detonated a tempest of raw emotion within Angela. The memories, still scalding and vibrant, assaulted her senses. The cold, merciless faces of the men who took her parents' lives for mere change still haunted her every dream.

'How could she possibly know about that?'

"T-they died during a robbery."

"Criminals killed your parents while they were minding their business. They are the bad people, only daring to bully weak and innocent people." The words were like hot knives, shifting and tearing her view of the world.

She had seen bad people before, and this woman was nothing like them.

'Is killing bad people a bad thing?'


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