Disqualified as a Villainess - Chapter 24

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#24.

I hurried after Kelsedny Admiral, who strode away with long, purposeful legs, and asked him a question.
“Where did the puppy go?”
“Looking for a ball.”
“What’s its name?”
He tilted his sharp jaw upward and answered with an elegant downward gaze.
“Dog.”
“That’s the most thoughtless name in the world. Are you perhaps lying because you failed to kill it? Are you running away right now?”
Before I knew it, our chase—if it could even be called that—had brought us to the front of the Annex.
Breathing harder than usual, I bent forward and placed my hands on my knees to catch my breath.
His footsteps, which had been moving forward without hesitation, seemed to pause, and then with a steady thud-thud, he appeared before me.
“Your hand.”
At his final words, I barely managed to lift my head.
“You want my hand?”
Was the dog he was talking about… me?
At his gesture, I belatedly noticed that my hand hadn’t healed properly. It seemed Kimihee, despite his exceptional purification abilities, wasn’t a master physician.
The throbbing extended to my inner elbow, and it appeared the cold had already spread.
“Is that how you normally leave it?”
“Indeed? I should be going then. If I don’t receive treatment soon, they may have to amputate my arm. I’d rather not have a mechanical prosthetic.”
At the word “amputation,” his eyebrows twitched slightly.
My feet, which had been unsteadily struggling forward, suddenly lifted off the ground.
“Huh?”
Like prey snatched by a predator, my vision spun dizzily.
In the blink of an eye, I was in his room, and before I could even comprehend the situation, I was thrown onto a soft bed.
“If you go find that Priest now, it will be too late.”
A low, gravelly voice came from the head of the bed. I lay there as I’d been thrown, moving only my eyes to look at him.
A man who seemed as indifferent to my fate as he was eager to kill me—why would he care?
“Remove your clothes.”
Standing upright, he commanded in a firm tone while removing his coat.
Apparently frustrated by how slowly he was fumbling with one intact hand, he grabbed and tore away my jacket and blouse with swift, forceful movements.
No, he actually tore it.
“That’s a limited edition—there are only two in the entire world!”
“Is that the problem?”
I was left in a bustier undergarment that covered from my waist to just below my chest. His eyes, which had been stubbornly fixed on my face, shifted toward my shoulder.
The cold had already spread to my shoulder.
“If we’d waited any longer, it wouldn’t have been amputation—the cold would have reached your heart and you’d be dead.”
“Why are you concerned about me?”
You should be the one hoping for my natural death more than anyone. I asked genuinely curious.
“I have a nature that cannot overlook difficult circumstances, and volunteering is my hobby.”
He laid out an answer no one would believe, stretching it out like an excuse.
I knew he wasn’t someone so altruistic and righteous.
“Therefore, I feel nothing, desire nothing.”
He emphasized his words as he climbed onto the bed, placing one knee on the sheets.
With a dull thud, he positioned himself completely above me and gripped my bare shoulder.
“I should warn you—what I’m about to do will hurt quite a bit.”
“How much pain could it possibly be, really… mmph.”
Suddenly his fingers slid smoothly into my mouth.
“Be still.”
His long, straight fingers settled between my teeth.
Before I could even process this incomprehensible action, excruciating pain crashed down upon me.
“Nnnngh!”
It was far beyond merely painful. Among all the suffering I’d endured across two lifetimes, this ranked in the top five.
My entire arm burned with a searing agony that turned my vision white.
“Hnngh!”
There was no escape from this man who gripped my wrist while pinning my thrashing legs with his knee.
Despite the pain and helplessness I felt, his face remained expressionless.
My barely-opened vision blurred again. I couldn’t tell if what streamed down my cheeks was blood or tears.
“… It hurts. Stop.”
At my weakened voice, his eyes—which had been so coldly composed—trembled slightly.
The pressure crushing my body seemed to ease momentarily, then weight settled upon me once more.
“Just a little longer.”
His voice had grown considerably gentler.
“You’ll lose consciousness soon.”
His face, calmly looking down, seemed to recede before everything went dark.

***

The rhythmic beeping of machines, sterile light bleaching my corneas white, shadowy figures in identical uniforms, gloved hands moving urgently across my field of vision.
A sharp medicinal smell and the metallic taste lingering in my parched mouth.
The familiar yet eerie sight of the Operating Room came into focus.
I couldn’t tell if this was a dream or reality, but the pain felt vividly real.

“It hurts. Please stop now…”
“You can endure a little longer, can’t you? It’s to save you.”

A gentle voice reached my ears.
I shook my head, not wanting the injection, but fear of death persuaded me, and I finally resigned myself.

“The sole survivor of the nuclear plant explosion is this child.”
“Is there any hope?”
“The child possesses radiation immunity. There’s every reason to keep them alive….”

Listening to their conversation, I tilted my head in confusion.
The nuclear plant explosion in the Coastal Region where I lived happened when I was seven years old.

“From now on, I’ll be your father, little one.”
“Mm!”
“You can endure this today too, right? I’m conducting these experiments because I want you to live a long life. When you grow up, I’ll take you to the sea.”

That voice, offering a reason to live through the agony and a dreamlike hope, gradually faded away.
Only the sensation of someone gently tracing my wet cheeks and the corners of my eyes remained vivid.
“Gasp.”
The memory lifted like a curtain, and consciousness snapped back as if a light had been switched on.
I clutched whatever my hands could grasp and exhaled a long breath.
The clean scent of sun-drenched bedding—it was my favorite fragrance, as if I’d returned to peaceful, ordinary days.
“Teacher, once this is over, please take me to the sea….”
“What did you learn from me?”
The gentle voice vanished without a trace, replaced by a tone as cold and biting as frost.
“Ah, that’s right. The sea….”
I had died like a lie in a world where the azure sea no longer existed.
I must have dreamed of my past life while unconscious.
Returning to reality, I found myself pressed against a firm chest, then slowly lifted my gaze to meet the fierce eyes of the Admiral.
My eyes then fell upon his loosened shirt collar.
“Oh.”
Realizing my own disheveled state, I quickly pulled away.
Unlike before when his shirt had been crisply pressed and buttoned to the collar, his current appearance was rumpled—he exhaled a sigh.
“The treatment is finished. You’re free to leave now.”
He spoke like an exceptionally discourteous physician.
Having heard the command to leave dozens of times already, I ignored it and examined my recovered shoulders and arms.
“I’m truly grate…ful?”
The healing was far too violent to warrant gratitude, wasn’t it?
I was beginning to understand why people didn’t seek healing from the all-capable Royal Family.
They wouldn’t care about their patients’ suffering, and patients would have to worry about dying from shock.
“I am grateful for saving me, but did you perhaps have no anesthetic function?”
“Didn’t need it, so I didn’t use it.”
What a terrifying thing to say.
The Royal Family are frightening beings who kill their targets to collect their abilities.
Those possessing absurdly broken abilities like money duplication or becoming catnip to felines would have met their end long ago, wouldn’t they?
How many abilities had the Admiral accumulated from spending so long on the battlefield?
I sighed inwardly and turned my gaze away.
Expensive, precious garments lay scattered across the floor. As I swallowed my regret and reached down to pick up the tattered blouse—
Tap.
The Admiral’s shoe, planted firmly on my blouse, caught my eye.
“I wasn’t planning to throw this away, you know…?”
I looked at him with an expression of disappointment.
He gazed down at me coldly, an unlit cigar clenched between his teeth.
“You can’t even endure a mere Priest’s power without fainting, yet you claim you’ll continue sharing my bed?”
“Wouldn’t it be simpler if you just knocked me unconscious beforehand?”
It seemed that intimacy with the Royal Family came with its share of pain.
But I was so consumed with curiosity about “Kelcedni’s secret night” that I couldn’t sleep—pain was hardly a significant concern.
“Do you really need to use the Priest’s power for that? Is human strength alone insufficient for you?”
At my genuine question, his expression twisted in displeasure.
“Besides, if I go out wearing this…you might be mistaken for an educated pervert, Admiral. Of course, so would I.”
As I gestured to the torn blouse with a gloomy expression, he chewed his unlit cigar and snapped his fingers to summon a servant.
“Bring any clothes. Put them on and get out.”
“For your information, I’m particular about what I wear. Especially when it comes to things touching my skin—I’m quite sensitive.”
“Then wear my clothes and get out.”
A knock sounded—the servant had already arrived.
The door opened, and someone entered with light, careful steps.
“Admiral, I apologize for coming so suddenly….”
The woman who entered the Bedroom froze in shock upon seeing us inside.
“Ah…?”
It was Saint Uriana, with her long white hair and silken priestly robes.
Her startled eyes moved between me, kneeling bare on the floor, and the Admiral standing with his cigar clenched between his teeth, treading on my torn blouse.
To anyone’s eyes, we must have looked like educated perverts.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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