LATEST UPDATES

Published at 8th of May 2020 07:55:15 PM


Chapter 7

If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again




Swiss Bank Balance Transfer

In the summer of her 13th year since birth, Miriam decided to sell herself to pay off the debts her parents were saddled with.

What was already a dwindling household life, with her father as poor as a peasant farmer could be, only worsened when he fell ill during an epidemic, leaving his health and body utterly battered.

The final nail on their coffin was the bad harvest his fields left him with that year. Thus the debts rose to unspeakable heights, interest only further pumping its monstrous belly till it crushed all who carried it, leading to Miriam selling herself in exchange for all debts to be erased.

Her parents cried and begged, their tears would never dry, but Miriam stood fast and patient, only speaking of the little brothers and sisters she was leaving behind, asking her parents to care for them in her place as well. If she could offer her family salvation in exchange for herself, it would be alright. Miriam hoped for that from the bottom of her heart.

Speaking of which, there was but one line of work left for a lady sold to pay off debts. Prostitution.

Disgust welled inside her, threatening to overflow each time, but Miriam endured desperately. She couldn’t rebel. She knew very well, the kind of human trash her owner was.

The name that held reign over the night of Ciel-Terra… ‘Night Python’. Her father had been borrowing money from a lender connected to them.

She had heard whispers of their work. That they have no qualms with performing the vilest of deeds if it led to money. That they often bribed and even resorted to intimidation to deal with Officials. That their elusiveness allowed them to evade even the long reach of the Order of Knights.

If Miriam fled, she would certainly be chased to the ends of the world and killed. Such were the horrors that bound the prostitutes to their work.

A few years down the line, Miriam had grown to be one of the more skilled women in her work.

The ‘work’ that once nauseated her had become a deeply ingrained part of her life, to the point she thought nothing of it.

However, after a certain time, her peers kept sending ‘troublesome’ customers her way. A man who got off on hurting her, another who forced strange narcotics on her, another who paid so little, yet shoved fierce feelings of jealousy and monopoly onto her, fighting away other customers.

At first, she wondered if it were a simple coincidence, but it was not. Her master was pushing such customers on her way.

It did not take long for her to puzzle the reason. Among her batch of prostitutes, Miriam was the least valuable prostitute.

For a lady who looked as plain as her, the only trait she could sell was her youth. Between two girls bearing the same looks, the younger one certainly held more value in this line of work. And while Miriam had frantically carved the sweet ways of flattery and grace onto her tongue, she could no longer progress beyond the level of ‘the most base requirement’.

Thus, to not exhaust the others, these customers were sent her way, the girl with arguably the least value.

Miriam suffered injuries more frequently. So, when she failed to show up at the brothel, her master’s income dropped, earning her a beating from him.

She felt mentally cornered as well. Unable to swallow the food she bought, she grew thinner and thinner. This caused a further drop in her customers.

Even so, she endured, but one day, Miriam overheard her master discuss with a stranger, terms of selling her at the cheapest of prices possible.

Drug workshops were the lifebreath of Night Python. They always had a shortage of lab rats. This was where she would be sold. This was her, Miriam’s, next…. And final duty. Even the profession of whoring itself had abandoned her.

Why this conversation took place in a room where it was very easy to eavesdrop was simple; Miriam was powerless to do anything, even if she listened in. But indeed they had underestimated how fast she would act.

She picked the wallet of a sleeping customer, then fled the place. She went in search of the family she had left behind, whom she simply could not get in touch with.

She knew well that her actions may endanger her family. But even so, her fear of death won over her reasoning. She wished to flee to another country with them.

She changed into attire she bought with less than a penny, cut off her long hair, covered her face with a hooded cloak and switched between stagecoaches as she traveled, all while praying that the next customer to get on her coach would not be a pursuer from Night Python.

Whether it be by luck or some form of divine intervention, she had safely traveled across the half the country and reached her home village.

After so many years, she had finally come home, and as she opened the door to her house, she greeted with overflowing joy and glee…

“Eh…?”

…two skulls, weathered with moss, lined on a dirt-colored table.

Why would something like this be here…?

The house was devoid of life. While there were stains and streaks of struggle, dust lay thick on the wood, a telling tale that none passed through for many years.

Mother? Father? My little brothers? Little sisters? Where did they go?

Miriam went to ask the villagers.

While they were all quick to shock because of her return after so long, they all maintained a cold distance, none willing to open their mouths.

Finally, the next-door aunt who was close with her family took her to the side and said, “Don’t tell anyone you heard this from me, but…”, and told her that the Miriam Household debt was never considered to be paid off.

While she did think it to be impossible, there was a certain clause in the agreement her family had signed. It was the main condition for the erasure of their debt. It said that if Miriam was able to earn a certain amount within a year of prostitution, their debt would be cancelled.

Suddenly, she realized something.

During her first year of work, she was paid disgustingly well. But even if she earned well, most of it went to buying accessories and clothes (even clothes she would require in the future) designed to draw more customers to her, and the seniors of her group often flocked to her, sponging off her earnings, so she could barely retain any savings. At that time, she quietly assumed this kind of earning was the norm, but in hindsight, she realized this would only considerably decrease the brothel profits.

In any case, her family was sent notice that their debts could not be written off, so they fled for their lives in the dead of night.

An entire family had vanished without the notice of the entire village… But a few days later, somewhere in the silence, the heads of the mother and father had returned.

As compensation for attempting to flee from their debts, and as a show of warning to others, Night Python slaughtered them. While her brothers’ and sisters’ whereabouts were unknowable, they have value as commodities. They must have been sold in one way or another. Surely.

Fearing for their own lives, the villagers dared not touch the heads Night Python left behind, and thus unable to bury the dead, they rot and turned to bone, untouched till the day Miriam arrived, whence they greeted her.

“For such a thing…”

Her feet numb, Miriam fell to her knees. The shock of learning the end of her parents far overwhelmed any feeling of lament or tears she could shed.

What was the point of me enduring for so long?

Miriam believed that, while they were poor, surely they lived well and happy as they helped each other through all times. That alone kept her heart strong and her spirit steadfast.

She could no longer count how many times she steeled her will with that hope.

Feeling someone behind her, Miriam turned around.

A figure stood at the doorway of her former house, carrying a dark red glint.

It was a young man wrapped in common and mundane travel robes. At a glance, he would simply be one of many faces in a crowd… But that fact alone gave rise to an intense sense of intrepidation.

Miriam knew well who he was.

A killer hired by Night Python. An assassin to hunt down Miriam, who fled her life as a whore, and end her.

“Why…?”

The man remained silent.

His knife glared at her throat as the man approached Miriam, step by step.

“Why did mom and dad have to die? Why are my little brothers and sisters not here? Why do I have to die?”

He once again held his silence.

Indeed, it was not as if this very man had killed her parents, but Miriam still had to ask. What did her father do? Her mother? Miriam herself? Did they do anything wrong? All they did was try to live the best they could in poverty.

And yet, bad people decided to exploit them for money, squeezing them dry till not even blood was left at this point.

“Why? Just why!?”

Miriam took to her feet.

She pulled out her own knife, one she kept on hand to let her anxieties during her journey sleep.

“Give them back… Give everyone back!!”

She lunged towards him, her knife thrust forward.

And then, she realized two knives were sticking out of her chest.

“Huh….?”

It took a beat for the pain to catch up to her.

She couldn’t even understand what happened.

THe knife she gripped in her fist was now stuck in her chest, alongside the assassin’s knife. It took only a moment for him to steal her weapon and use it on her.

“Agh…. umph….”

She could no longer breathe. Blood flooded her lungs, clogged her throat, blocked her nose. Some clots overflowed from between her lips, others remained trapped in her mouth, swimming with her tongue. Slowly, life ebbed out of her body. She could no longer lift even a finger.

“Give…. Them… Back….”

And so, quietly, unable to have her voice be heard, Miriam’s consciousness sunk in darkness.

Feeling her body suddenly become lighter, Miriam glanced down at her body, which was slowly sinking in a  sea of blood.

――What is this….?

She was lightly floating in the air.

The killer was still in the house, likely pilfering for goods he can pocket.

She realized she could see the floor behind her arm, which glowed a light, pale blue.

――Just the soul, huh….

Indeed, Miriam had died.

Her heart was assaulted by hunger and thirst, the likes of which she knew she would find no relief from.

It is said that the souls of the dead are guided by a light from the heavens, beckoning them once more into the bosom of God, where they remain in eternal peace. And eventually, the soul would be born anew in this world.

However, Miriam saw no glimmer of a guiding hand.

Her soul was bound to this world, shackled by her own grudge.

‘Ah… ah… Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!’

Hate and curses burst into flames inside her.

‘Why! Why!!’

She slammed her fists on the assassin’s back over and over.

But her anger would find no reprieve, her hands slipped through nothing but air.

‘Mommy… Daddy….’

Only now that she had lost her body, did tears well up in her eyes. Crouched down on the floor, she gasped whelps of cries like a wounded puppy.

No matter how much she cried and cried, sadness embraced her, anger boiled her skin and malice gnawed at her bones.

Eventually, the assassin pulled out. Perhaps realizing there was nothing left, he turned back.

Miriam glared at the man’s back, willing with her all that he drop dead. But no matter what, that was impossible. Unlike the Undead monsters she often heard of in fairy tales, she did not wield the magic to slay him.

Even if she were trapped on this world’s plane, chained by her resentment, defying God’s goodwill, she could still do no such thing.

――I will never forgive you…. Night Python….!

But even if she did not forgive, it wasn’t as if she could do anything.

Just how much blood, tears and grudges is Night Python built on? Her grudge alone did nothing. It was only another drop in the ocean.…

“Ghuh… ah-!”

As the sudden scream fell on her eardrums, she looked back up.

The assassin lay on the threshold of the doorway. Miriam could no longer fathom what was happening.

――Did he die…?

But, why?

‘Fu… fuhahahaha…. You hate, do you not…. You are bitter, are you not…. You do not wish to die a death so pathetic, do you not….’

Abrupt giggles spilled out of the dark corners of the house.

The laugh of a young, yet malicious young girl, a voice dripping with venom.

‘Shall I grant you reprieve of that grudge? If offering your soul in exchange is worth its weight in gold, that is….!’

The still world quaked from her voice.

The very air bore it’s weight down on her, the soul fizzled like bubbles of light, flickering in and out.

Beyond her gaze lay sprawled on the vast blue sky, a glimmering silver moon.

――No. That’s not the moon…

Her silver hair fluttered behind, spread like the wings of an angel. Her silver-tinted irises had a dangerous allure, threatening to drag one’s live heart out if met gaze with. Her skin held nary a blemish, as white as fresh snow fallen on the peak of a mountain. Her white dress decorated with gentle and delicate flourish.

Wrapped in white and silver, the fairy-like girl danced in the air with grace and nobility of a primmed princess. Alas, she too, was an existence just like hers…. A soul. She too had passed away.

She quickly realized this was no ordinary girl.

Her soul was on the brink of annihilation from merely being in her presence. It was as if her existence was being pulverized by the immense pressure of an entire ocean.

Miriam couldn’t even begin to fathom what kind of existence she was.

‘Are you the one who… Killed that man?’

‘Ah, yes. He looked like a problem, so. Seems like he couldn’t see me, but I can’t really have him overhear what I’m gonna say, so I dealt with him just in case.’

The young spirit answered as if it were a passing thought.

What Miriam wanted to know most, however, was how she had killed the man. In the first place, why is it that she can even kill?

‘Just what are you…’

Miriam muttered, dazed. The girl paused for a moment, perhaps pondering on how she should introduce herself, then opened her petal-like lips.

‘An Avenger…  René ‘Rosy’ Ciel-Terra.’

‘Ciel-Te… Hey are you actually-!’

Prostitution was also an entertainment business.

Many customers love talking about themselves or spreading many kinds of gossip, and information exchange between peers of the same group was commonplace. As a result, prostitutes were very well-informed on matters troubling the world at large, sometimes even state secrets that would lead to executions if leaked.

Miriam heard the tale of a former princess who died an unusually cruel death, rose as an Undead and caused severe damage to society.

‘The one who was executed and came back as an Undead….!’

‘Oh? Am I a really hot topic now?’

 She laughed despite being expected to do the contrary, as if it amused her.

Her laugh definitely did not ring like that of an innocent child, but that of an adult amused by the irony of their circumstance. For such innocence to bear an expression, Miriam felt, even in death, her intestines twist and writhe. Like she was witnessing something far more insane than she imagined.

‘Now then, you don’t have much time, so I’ll get straight to the point. At this rate, you’re going to transform into the Spirit-type Undead Monster Wraith.’

‘…I can?’

‘Do you want to?’

René tilted her head slightly when posed with Miriam’s question.

‘Because, you know… I might be able to take revenge if I do…’

While Miriam herself had never seen a monster, she has served customers of the Adventurers and of travelling merchants. One actively pursues monsters, the other has quite the occasional run-in with them. So she did hold some fair know-how of monsters.

She had heard that Undead monsters were terrifying, regardless of having a physical body or not. Thus if she were to turn into such a being, then enacting vengeance upon Night Python may be possible.

‘Nope, nada, no way, impossible, muda. Any spirit that retains even a semblance of sanity loses it pretty fast. You’ll just always be angry and take it out on random strangers. You won’t even know who to be angry at. And even if, by some fluke, you get to face off against the one you wanna turn inside-out, well…. Yeah, your average Adventure can totally take care of a low level Undead.’

‘That can’t be…’

René’s exposition left no room for rebuttal. In the end, Miriam would never see her grudge fulfilled.

‘And there, I have for you, a most lucrative offer. That Night Python thing, shall I raise a festival of blood for them? The price is small. Only your soul. I understand I’ll be going a bit over budget, but, you know, think of it as a freebie by a shop opening sale.’

René smiled, her sweet innocence seeped poison down the barbed curve of her lips.





Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!