51 – Don’t Be Meddlesome -3-

Mikhail.

Silver hair.

A small stature of 168cm.

A boy with porcelain-like skin.

A just personality.

A handsome appearance.

A soft, pubescent voice.

Mikhail, who possesses all the elements that female readers love, was a character who showed a contrasting charm to the solid and muscular prince Hwangtaeja and the ruffian-like Ruin.

Unlike the prince with a roguish charm and the delinquent-like Ruin, Mikhail was a character who couldn’t stand injustice and had a belief that the power exists for the weak. He played a crucial role in the novel as a character responsible for Soda and sweet potatoes.

He forgave the villain who tried to kill him, manipulated his friend into becoming a corrupted villain in the latter part of the novel, and caused unnecessary troubles to put the heroine in danger. He was a character who only knew honesty and justice, and incited conflicts.

That’s how I remember Mikhail, and that was the evaluation of Mikhail.

I don’t know what Mikhail thinks of us, but one thing is clear: I don’t like Mikhail, and Mikhail doesn’t like me either.

The lady and I ruined half of Mikhail’s first year, and Mikhail ruined the lady.

I disliked him too.

A mutual relationship of dislike between Mikhail and me.

That was the relationship between Mikhail and me.

*

A man with silver hair, bathed in moonlight, is approaching me, exuding vitality.

One glance at the fleeing ragamuffin.

Two glances at me, standing there awkwardly.

And three glances at the bloodstains on the sword, furrowing his brow.

Mikhail blinked his sharp vermilion eyes.

“You bastard….”

Mikhail spat obscenities.

Does he want to say something like that to a long-lost comrade? Instead of greeting him, let alone saying, it’s good to see you.

Letting out a sigh at his cold attitude, I sent a sword strike towards the fleeing ragamuffin. As calculations must be made correctly.

‘Kweah…’ When screams came from beyond the alley, Mikhail gripped the handle of his sword. It was evident that he was preparing himself to rush over right away.

Shouting at me, who swung the sword emotionlessly, Mikhail asked,

“What the hell are you doing right now?”

“Quiet, please.”

“What are you doing…!”

“It’s late, isn’t it?”

An awkward atmosphere hung in the air.

Why did Mihail come here?

What is Mihail thinking?

I had a guess, but wanted to hear it from him directly to be sure. It’s more accurate to hear it from his own mouth rather than just thinking alone.

Brushing the blood off the sword, I said to Mihail,

“Please calm down, Mihail.”

“And you expect me to calm down after seeing this…?”

“I could be the victim too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s really upsetting. Do you know how fragile I am?”

Cold glances were exchanged. I dislike you. Greetings, which also conveyed my disdain for you, filled the silent alley.

I asked Mihail,

“What brings you here? You’re known as the busiest figure in the Empire, yet you come to this dreary place.”

“I didn’t want to come to the place where you live either… but I heard screams for help. So, what are you doing here?”

“Um… cleaning?”

At the mention of cleaning, Mihail unsheathed his sword. It seems he didn’t like being compared to trash. I tried to smooth it over with my words, but Mihail pulling out his sword made me feel disappointed.

I warned Mihail,

“Can you handle it?”

Pause.

Mihail stopped pulling out his sword and looked at me. He knew what my words meant.

Here, there are no people or ladies who mediate. It’s not an academy that loves peace and order either.

Only Mihail and I stood in the silent alley.

My question contained a lot of meaning.

It carried a challenge to see if he could win and a threat that it wouldn’t end with a simple duel.

I wasn’t in a good mood. I could accidentally hurt Mihail badly.

Engaging in a wholehearted fight with an opponent who couldn’t use aura is an unbecoming action for a prosecutor, but it was something I could do considering my current state of mind.

Thinking of Mihail only brings the lady to mind.

The image of the lady lying on the bed, and the way Mikhail intensely treated her, flashed before my eyes. I couldn’t bear the anger.

Contrary to appearances, my mental fortitude is weak.

I have even a resistance to misleading remarks.

I am someone who can handle insults against myself tolerably well, but if Mikhail mentions the lady’s name, I feel like I’ll lose my composure and break something.

That’s why I asked.

If I can handle it.

Because I feel like if we fight now, there won’t be any limits and he’ll just outright attack me. Honestly, looking at his face was irritating, and I wanted to leave this place immediately, but if I were to run away like this, Mikhail might report it to the guards or it could lead to further misunderstandings, so I held my anger and asked.

We, who are already hated by those who desire to become the strongest in the world, receive a lot of unnecessary criticism, so I was afraid of the resentment that would pour down on me from him when it came to an end.

So, I’m enduring it here, and I’m going along with Mikhail’s clumsy provocation.

Mikhail drew his sword.

“Can you handle it?”

It seems like my genuine concern didn’t reach him.

Mikhail approaches me slowly, shining his blue blade. His mumbling voice echoes vividly in my ears. His figure preparing combat support magic like ‘Body Acceleration, Enhanced Muscles, Protective Shield’ made me tightly grip my sword.

“I wish he would just go quietly…”

Mikhail’s body glowed faintly.

His hair trembled due to the mana flowing nearby, and hoo. I felt like Mikhail’s rough breathing was the same as before.

Should I say I’m disappointed?

Disappointment was the first thing that came to me due to Mikhail’s lack of growth as expected. By now, I thought he would be able to use Reinforcement Magic with the No Shadow Spear, but he couldn’t even do that, and his excitement made his observation of his surroundings clumsy as well.

With this…

It seems like I won’t succeed in this event…

Mikhail pointed the tip of his sword towards me and spoke.

“You haven’t changed. Torturing the weak and committing murder like eating rice…”

“People don’t change easily. And we have to live with some backbone.”

“That kind of backbone is unnecessary. Stubbornness that torments others and doesn’t know how to forgive is evil.”

“If someone sees, they might think you’re the saint. Always forgiving. Have you forgiven us then?”

Swoosh. The sound of Mikhail grinding his teeth reached my ears.

“You’ve crossed the line.”

“Even if we’ve crossed the line, isn’t forgiving others something Mikhail does? It’s not like we’re discriminating based on race.”

“Don’t joke.”

“I’m not really in the mood for jokes either.”

Mikhail spoke to me as if accusing.

“You called it cleaning… Is torturing those poor people your idea of cleaning?”

I nodded.

‘Madman,’ Mikhail muttered. He glared at me with eyes filled with hatred, the same eyes I had seen at the academy.

He looked at me with the same disappointed eyes from that day when things between Mikhail and I started to fall apart. I remembered the image of him saying that I would not do such a thing.

-Did you kill them?

…I had no choice.

-Did you do it?

…I’m sorry.

It’s a bad memory.

Mikhail asked me, accusingly. He was still cold, filled with hatred and resentment towards me.

“You always… If something displeased you, you would kill and trample on them so they would never rise again.”

“I had my reasons, didn’t I?”

“No, you’re different. You go too far, you cross the line.”

I spoke to Mikhail, who made judgments and spoke neatly, with a small laugh. I stood still and waited for Mikhail to come closer, mixing sincerity and provocation in my words.

“Then tell me, has Mikhail ever listened to my story?”

“What?”

“Even now, at the academy, you keep pushing forward the same way. Instead of asking why I did what I did, you just see what is bad and call it bad. If it’s better to live wickedly, why not live wickedly?”

“Again…”

I looked at the dark alley where the scoundrels had disappeared.

“Do those guys look like good people to you?”

“They may not be good, but they are still pitiful.”

“They may have killed people. They may have done worse things than that.”

“They may have had a reason.”

I chuckled as if amused.

“Pitiful, you say? Without even knowing anything.”

“At least they seem more pitiful than you, who torments the weak.”

“If Uria had suffered something dangerous from those guys, could you say that?”

“What?”

“Did you not hear me, Yuria?”

Mikhail gripped the sword. He couldn’t help but laugh at Mikhail’s admonition not to make a fuss. A scoundrel who only sees what he wants to see, consistently.

I approached, sword in hand.

It seemed wrong to try and clear up misunderstandings.

It felt like no matter what words were spoken, he wouldn’t listen, and continuing to converse with someone whose mind was filled with notions of justice, empathy, and forgiveness seemed like crossing a line.

I looked at Mikhail, who was yelling at me, and said, “Shut up. You’re being too loud.”

The crimson aura wrapped around the sword, suffocating in its intimidation, as it engulfed Mikhail.

Mikhail’s vision darkened.

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