The shadows of the three of us flickered violently as we walked down the hallway.
The oil lamp, unlike the modern fluorescent lights or LEDs, was an actual fla on a wick. Since the fla constantly flickered, it was normal for the shadows to sway a bit. But now, the shadows shook far more violently than before.
That was because my hand, holding the lamp, was trembling uncontrollably.
“Huh? What’s wrong with you? Did you eat sothing bad?” the old woman asked, though she didn’t seem particularly concerned. It was more of a curious look.
I had always maintained a blank expression in front of the old woman. While the other children were terrified of her, I had learned to hide my feelings. It wasn’t because I had any extraordinary skill—if I did, I wouldn’t be trembling like this now.
I’d once dreamt of becoming a voice actor when I was younger—
No, no, this isn’t the ti to be thinking about that.
I needed to figure out what was happening and how to process it.
There were no injuries on my body. I didn’t feel any pain. There was no evidence that the man had beaten .
But the pain I had experienced was far too vivid to simply dismiss as a dream or my imagination.
The sensation of falling face-first onto the carriage floor. The sickening sound of sothing breaking in my mouth. The hard, small objects rolling around inside, the tallic taste of blood, the blurred vision—
Thud.
The old woman whacked my leg with her cane, causing to stumble a bit.
“Useless brat. Can’t even hold a lamp properly? If the light keeps shaking, it’ll hurt my eyes. What will you do if my eyesight gets worse, huh?”
Her eyesight was far from poor. She could spot a child misbehaving from the other side of the room and rush over to whack them with her cane.
But I tried my best to stand firm.
I could feel cold sweat trickling down my back.
I didn’t want to get hit again.
When was the last ti I had been struck? It must have been over ten years ago. And since becoming an adult, I hadn’t been in a fight—adults generally avoided situations that involved getting hit.
Although the pain wasn’t real at this mont, I knew what would happen if this continued.
“Sister?” Claire called, her voice pulling out of my thoughts.
I turned and saw her looking at with concern.
Right. I had been taken in place of Claire and had been beaten. Though I wasn’t sure why, the man’s comnts about his “preferences” made it clear that this was part of so twisted desire of his.
I regretted stepping forward earlier. If the person waiting outside the door was the sa man, the situation would only repeat itself.
But if I didn’t take her place... then Claire would be the one to suffer.
What should I do? How could I get both of us out of this situation?
I racked my brain, but no matter how hard I thought, there didn’t seem to be anything a five-year-old child could do.
“What are you two whispering about? Look ahead and walk straight. He’s waiting for us,” the old woman grumbled.
We had barely exchanged a word—Claire had only called my na. But even that slight interaction was enough to irritate the old woman, and she hit my leg with her cane again.
“...”
Having witnessed one of the children get beaten rcilessly with that cane, Claire and I fell silent. I was even more afraid, having already experienced brutal violence.
I just hoped the person waiting wasn’t the sa man.
Then,
“Say your goodbyes.”
The old woman’s voice signaled our arrival.
I looked up.
The man waiting for us was wearing a fine coat and a silk hat, his face adorned with a monocle and a thick mustache.
“Ah...”
Seeing my despairing expression, the man smiled.
“Oh?”
He seed intrigued by my reaction.
And then, everything proceeded just as I had rembered.
“...”
I woke up, curled into a ball once again.
I had returned to a few monts before.
“Sister?”
Claire’s voice called to again.
I opened my eyes and checked my arms. There were no injuries, no objects rolling around in my mouth, no tallic taste of blood, and my vision was clear.
Once again, I had returned to the mont before we t the man.
Claire looked at curiously as I frantically checked my body.
The other children stared at , too.
Had I... sohow turned back ti?
Or had so higher power—perhaps the one that brought into this world—reset ti for ?
My mind, still paralyzed by fear, raced to recall the ga’s lore.
There were gods in this world. But it was unclear whether they were personal deities or just abstract forces.
In every series installnt, no matter how many tis the world changed, the lore around the gods remained consistent. Players often theorized that these gods were the sa entity, exerting a kind of “narrative force” that shaped events—though so players criticized this as a lazy plot device.
Was this one of those conveniences?
Could gods rewind ti? And if so, what criteria did they use to decide when to do it?
Why hadn’t ti rewound before I was beaten? Did I have to be in life-threatening danger for it to work? No, the man hadn’t planned to kill —he’d been careful not to damage his “rchandise” too much.
So... was this my ability?
“Claire!”
And then, the all-too-familiar, grating voice of the old woman echoed again.
“Soone’s here to take you! Be happy!”
Once again, the scene repeated.
I still didn’t fully understand my ability. I couldn’t control it freely. I didn’t know if there was a limit to how many tis I could use it or how far back I could rewind.
Why had I been given such an absurd power? What was the one who gave it to thinking—
—I didn’t have ti to ponder these questions.
The fear of getting hit again gripped . I wasn’t soone used to pain. A small paper cut would leave obsessively tending to the wound all day, and a cramp would have groaning and bedridden.
But even so.
Even so, I had an opportunity here.
I had confird that I could turn back ti.
This ti, I had rewound just before the man’s face appeared.
“Sister...?”
Hearing Claire’s voice, which I had now heard several tis, I opened my eyes again. My body was still unscathed.
And finally, I began to understand the conditions under which ti rewound.
A strong emotion, a desperate need.
Whenever I felt overwhelming regret and my emotions collapsed, I would return to this mont.
Why this specific point? I had no idea. And I didn’t have ti to figure that out.
“Claire!”
And once again,
“Soone’s here to take you! Be happy!”
Ti repeated itself.
Even after going through the sa events three tis, it was still hard to adapt. Heck, even if I were starting a new office job, it would take at least a month to fully adjust and stop making mistakes.
And here I was, teetering on the edge of—well, not death exactly, but sothing close to ruining my life.
Getting hit over and over didn’t make immune to pain. And there was no way I’d grow accustod to the body of a five-year-old withstanding the punches of a grown man.
Still, I racked my brain fiercely.
What could I do?
How could I save both Claire and myself from this nightmare?
Telling the man we were useless wouldn’t work. He wasn’t looking for personality. He intended to “process” us in his own twisted way.
Claire wouldn’t stab a noble or set fire to a brothel until years from now. If she took my place today, I might be spared, but she would suffer for years to co.
Better that I, with my ability, take the blows. I still had a chance to stop this.
Let’s just hope there’s no limit to the number of tis I can rewind. I decided to act as though there wasn’t.
I needed sothing—anything—useful in my hands.
That’s when I rembered the oil lamp I was holding.
The man began to approach.
There was no ti to think.
I hurled the lamp at him with all my strength.
“What the...!?”
The old woman let out a yell, and the woman behind the man scread in shock.
I don’t know what Claire said.
But a lamp thrown by a five-year-old...
...didn’t manage to set the man on fire.
Thwack!
Before the lamp could hit him, the man swung his cane and shattered it in midair.
Oil spilled out, and a small fire ignited, but that was all.
“...”
The man’s expression remained unchanged as he looked at .
“Ah.”
I was screwed.
“Sister...?”
I had returned once more.
Luckily, I rewound ti before the man could do anything.
Each ti, I felt like I was getting better at triggering the ability.
There didn’t seem to be any strict conditions for turning back ti. Whenever I desperately wished for it, ti simply rewound.
I hadn’t figured out how to rewind further than this point, but that was irrelevant for now.
“It’s okay,” I reassured Claire, trying to calm her.
I still had another chance.
In fact, the more ti passed, the more I realized I was in a better position than before.
Once again, I threw the lamp.
This ti, however, I didn’t aim for the man.
I hurled it at the old woman.
Fortunately, Claire was standing closer to than to the old woman, so she didn’t get splashed with any of the burning oil.
“Gaaahhhh!”
The old woman shrieked in agony as the flas engulfed her legs. The fire spread rapidly, crawling up her body until it consud her entirely.
Soon, she was nothing more than a human-shaped torch.
The problem was that I had never done sothing like this to another human being.
No matter how awful the old woman was, she was still a person. Even if she deserved it, seeing soone on fire was horrifying.
Claire and I stood frozen, staring at the burning figure—
Until I felt a rough hand grab my shoulder.
“Ah...”
I was yanked backward—
—And returned once again.
This ti, I resolved to stop the man from entering at all.
I couldn’t set him on fire. Even burning the old woman wouldn’t scare him.
So, instead—
“Claire—”
I waited for the old woman to arrive.
“Soone’s here to take you—”
I followed her willingly. The old woman grumbled, and Claire smiled up at .
“Good, while you’re at it, take this lamp,” she said.
As soon as I received the lamp, I smashed it onto the hallway floor near the entrance.
“What are you...!”
Oil splattered everywhere, but thankfully none of it landed on or Claire.
“What do you think you’re—”
Before she could finish, I grabbed the old woman’s collar and spun her around with all the strength I had.
For all her strength, the old woman’s hunched posture made it easy to throw her off balance.
“You crazy brat...!”
Her eyes bulged with rage as she swung her cane with both hands—but she fell straight into the burning pool of oil.
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