I've already said this isn't a life simulator!

But whenever this happens, Alicia will just smile and change the subject, slipping a small star-shaped hard candy through the remaining gap, saying, "Sorry I made you angry~ This is an apology~", while assuring you, "I'm very capable! It'll be fine~"

Hearing her say that, you couldn't say anything more to her. The sweetness of the candy soothed your mood, and you also knew that she was indeed very capable, because the priest had become increasingly anxious lately. Obviously, he must have used some methods, but they were all blocked by Alicia, and the higher-ups might also be pressuring him.

[To the point that you eventually suspected the priest was planning to kidnap you, which, while not in line with his usual behavior, certainly met the requirements from above... But in the end, you didn't know whether the priest actually used this method or not, since Alicia still came over to chat with you every afternoon.]

Ah... I don't know why, but just thinking about the priest's anxious look makes you feel so much better, to the point that the torment of the night doesn't feel as painful anymore.

"You've finally met your match!"—You think to yourself.

[Without realizing it, your feelings for Alicia have grown stronger. As time goes on, you also find her increasingly capable, and you even occasionally fantasize that she can rescue you—even though you think such a thought is too absurd.]

You've become a bit more "cheerful" compared to before, even if this affection is only directed towards Alicia. The time you spend chatting with her each day is your most cherished time, although most of the time she's the one talking and you're the one listening.

Alicia seems to have endless things to say, and she'll often bring you small sweets, reasoning that "no one can resist something sweet!" You cherish these little gifts, both practically and emotionally.

[You yourself don't even realize it, but you've already come to see Alicia as your pillar, your hope, a pillar that supports the idea that "you will definitely be saved," a hope that "you can regain your freedom."]

Like a lifeline, you want to hold on to her tightly, hoping she can "rescue" you.

Today, you awaited Alicia's arrival as usual. Although you didn't show it, your heart was filled with anticipation. Even though the nights were painful, and even though you couldn't leave this prison, at least you were free when talking to her. Through her descriptions, you could imagine the scenery of all the world.

Without realizing it, she has changed you a lot.

However, as the sky gradually darkened, as night fell, as the priest entered, as the pitch-black night descended, as the dawn broke, and as the sunlight filtering through the window dimmed again, Alicia still did not come.

Your heart, once filled with anticipation, anxiety, and restlessness, finally settled into silence. The glimmer of hope in your eyes gradually returned to its usual stillness, like stagnant water.

She may have left, which would be for the best, to leave this awful place.

She may have been captured; this is probably the worst possible outcome, and yet another child is trapped.

[You prayed in your heart that she would leave rather than be captured, and gradually let go of the expectation that you shouldn't have had in the first place.]

[That's it—you think, it's just going back to that old time, and besides, you've been a little better off because of her, since she always brings you little treats, and you've secretly kept quite a few for yourself.]

[At night, the priest came as usual. He seemed to have encountered something good, which made his movements slower and more graceful—though the pain he brought you was also longer.]

You're not really interested in this; rather, you seem more relaxed—after all, your sensitivity to pain has become dulled.

[Another phase of torture has ended. The priest sits to the side, resting while watching you, once again tortured to the point of being covered in blood—your hands are bound and you are suspended in mid-air, with a rope around your neck. You can feel the rope pressing on your airway if you lower your head even slightly. You can only rely on your toes to step on the missing leg of the stool below for support to prevent the rope around your neck from strangling you. Bright red blood flows down from your suspended hands, accumulating more and more along the way, flowing faster and faster, and finally flowing down into the basin at the bottom.]

This scene always reminds me of livestock being bled in butcher shops.

"It's really surprising that you could hold on for so long," he said, his eyes full of admiration.

"Indeed, you are a wonderful child." This was followed by an aggressive gaze, but it quickly softened. Perhaps sensing that continuing would cause you to bleed to death, he took out a first-aid kit and began to stop the bleeding and bandage your wounds.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything to you," his tone softened. "After all, we have a long time ahead of us."

You know he's expecting you to beg him for forgiveness, to make that "terrible request," to give in to him.

He's not in a hurry; he has plenty of time. Like a cat playing with a mouse, he can slowly toy with you.

[If it were you in the past, you probably would have nodded in agreement, since you'd had enough of it all.]

However, after spending some time with Alicia, you felt that you could persevere, or rather, that you should continue to persevere.

Hang in there a little longer, just a little longer... you'll be saved eventually.

Wait, and hold onto hope.

"Speaking of which, you seemed to be having a good time chatting with that girl, didn't you?" the priest suddenly said. "I'm glad you've made a new friend."

Noticing your sudden stiffness, the priest smiled with satisfaction. After bandaging your still-bleeding wounds, he roughly pulled the rope, dragging you to a corner of the room, and then hung the rope on a high hook.

"But unfortunately, you probably won't see her again." He casually walked back to his spot, looking at you, who were barely able to move due to hunger and blood loss, and said softly, his words carrying an undisguised smile.

"As you know, someone up there wants her... Well, although that girl is very smart, she didn't give me a chance and instead caused me a lot of trouble. Plus, the pressure from above is really bothering me." He sighed, then looked at you, meeting your gaze as you struggled to look up. "Of course, I can understand the greed of those people up there. They're always like that, eager to get whatever they want, so they're always coming to urge me... Of course, these aren't the reasons that are bothering me."

"What bothers me is that the child was trying to take my things...it annoys me a bit," he said slowly, leaning back and reaching into the tattered mattress, quickly pulling out a few candies from the dark red pile of cotton.

"So I'm getting a little annoyed." He glanced at you as you began to struggle, watching the ripples in your eyes, and smiled with satisfaction. Then, unhurriedly, he unwrapped the candies one by one and placed them in his palm.

He moved very slowly, as if deliberately letting you see his every move. In the end, he held all the peeled candies in his palm, then spread them out for you to see, as if showing off his achievement.

"So I decided to use some quicker methods to solve this... or rather, I prefer to call it efficient." Watching you struggle to get closer to him, watching the taut rope, watching you persevere even as the rope choked you, he smiled with satisfaction.

"After all, dealing with one person is much simpler than dealing with a bunch of problems caused by that person," he laughed, stuffing all the candy in his hand into his mouth, chewing it twice with exaggerated movements so you could hear a crisp "crunch," then swallowing it directly, deliberately opening his mouth to prove to you that he had indeed finished it.

You didn't know what to do, you didn't know how to think. When you heard news of her, when the candy she left behind was bitten and eaten in front of you, you felt that something in your understanding, something you had finally managed to pick up again, something you had finally decided to hold onto—shattered, along with those candies, bitten and shattered by him.

"Hahaha—you know what? The you I see now! Only the you I see now is what I'm most satisfied with!" He laughed excitedly, seemingly having finally seen what he'd been waiting for. He approached again, pinched your cheek, and said in a gentle tone, "Alright, child~ Stop hoping anyone can take you out, okay? Be a good child, be a good girl."

Looking at you, completely unresponsive and seemingly dead, he narrowed his eyes, moved closer, and spoke to you in a gentle voice, "I hope you understand one thing: you belong here, you belong to—me."

"What's wrong with being here? You know you didn't have to endure this torment. You could have played outside like other children. You didn't have to suffer from hunger. I could even provide you with better food and treatment, after all, you are so well-behaved and so lovable."

His voice was soft, and because he had just eaten candy, it carried a slightly cloying sweetness.

However, he doesn't realize that his actions are undoubtedly dancing on your minefield—or perhaps he does?

"...Alright, it seems the negotiation failed. I was thinking of using a gentler method, but now it seems punishment is better." Seeing that you didn't move, he seemed to give up on trying to persuade you further. "After all, you're a bad kid~"

With a dull thud and a powerful impact, he was thrown into a corner, his head hitting the wall, and he could only drift into unconsciousness in a daze.

Before his vision faded into darkness, he only saw your eyes, now filled with gold. Your pupils, once like water and the night sky, were now consumed by anger and hatred. That crazed gaze bewildered him.

[You know nothing about any of this. You are unaware of your current state, why you suddenly have strength, or why you can suddenly tear the rope. You don't care about these anomalies; you just want to take back what's yours—the thing that was taken from you, chewed up, the thing she gave you.]

You picked up the knife that you had used countless times to cut yourself, plunged it into his throat, and slit it vertically.

[Perhaps the intense pain awakened him, or perhaps it was his body's survival instinct acting up, but his body moved involuntarily, trying to reach out and cover the cut wound to stop the bleeding, trying to twist his body away from the danger, trying to kick away the threat pressing down on him.]

[If these actions that hinder you irritate you, then without hesitation you will pierce the joints of your limbs, causing them to hang limply—you know very well how to deprive someone of sensation in their limbs, after all, you have experienced it firsthand.]

You cut his body open, ripping out his internal organs and flesh, and tossing them carelessly onto the ground. You then plucked and cut out his stomach, following his throat and esophagus down his back. Stomach acid and undigested food mixed with blood flowed out, emitting a pungent, nauseating odor.

[But you didn't care, you just carefully and meticulously searched through that mosaic-like mess, and finally you found what you were looking for in a pile of semi-digested matter.]

[He carefully removed the candy, washed it with the blood gushing from his body, and then put it in his mouth, as if afraid that someone else would take it away from him.]

You searched meticulously, even cutting open his esophagus to look for anything, just to ensure you missed nothing. This made his corpse even more gruesome and unsettling—but you didn't care, you didn't care at all.

You put the last piece of candy you could find into your mouth, finally letting out a sigh of relief. Leaning against the corner of the wall, you peacefully closed your eyes. A variety of strange and bloody tastes spread in your mouth, but the tiny, faint sweetness was not masked; it went straight to your heart, causing a slight smile to appear on your lips.

Tonight, your dreams will be free of pain, filled only with sweetness.

Chapter Seven: The Planned Trial Cannot Be Changed

The next day, you were awakened by the nun's screams. Apparently, your murder of the priest has been discovered, and the police will probably come to arrest you soon.

[You don't intend to run away. After all, in your mind, no matter the reason, "murder" is always a bad thing, it's "wrong," and you deserve to be punished. In addition, you've made the priest's body extremely gruesome, almost all of his internal organs have been turned out. Such a heinous act will definitely get you the most severe punishment, and it might even make the news. After all, the priest seems to have a pretty good reputation.]

However, you don't seem to care. Rather, you'd rather more people know about this, so that the darkness that's been covered up and ignored will be seen by everyone.

[But in the end... you still became a "bad kid"—realizing this, you felt a little lost and worried that Alicia might change her opinion of you because of it.]

Soon, you heard the sirens and saw the officers again. They looked at you with a mixture of surprise and understanding, while their eyes held shock and schadenfreude as they looked at the priest's body.

They were astonished that a child like you would commit such a heinous act, but at the same time, they felt that the priest deserved his fate.

You were taken away, and the case was quickly classified—as is expected, given the overwhelming evidence and witness testimonies, and even your own confession.

Although there were still many unusual things at the scene, such as the basin of blood that did not belong to the priest, and the obvious ligature marks and wounds on your body—it seemed that no one cared about these things. From the time you were arrested, detained, and finally tried, no one cared about them at all.

You've met with the police chief and spoken to him about the problems at the church—you're not asking him to defend you, you just want him to help the other children.

But he only glanced at you with surprise, then acted as if he hadn't heard you, asking questions casually and perfunctorily, his pen never stopping, as if he had already decided what to write, and your answer was unimportant.

You realize that the police chief in front of you is probably not the "meddlesome, stubborn chief" the officers used to describe.

You raised objections during the trial, but it was to no avail. No one paid attention to you; they just went about doing what seemed to have been decided long ago.

Of course, one thing you hoped for also came true: your killing of the priest was reported, causing quite a stir and attracting considerable attention—albeit not in the way you wanted.

You learned from the police officers about the report, which generally described you as an ungrateful and inherently wicked child, expressed regret and indignation at the priest's untimely death, and hoped that you, as a child of such bad character, would be given the heaviest punishment.

The report also briefly mentioned the church at the end, saying that the church itself was struggling financially, and that it would likely face even greater difficulties after the priest left, hoping that kind-hearted people would come and donate more... something like that.

In short, it describes how good a priest was during his lifetime, and how wicked you are by nature, and how you will probably never become a good person even when you grow up. Finally, it uses this opportunity to call on people to donate money to the church.

[You don't understand. You subconsciously feel that even if a child your age commits a crime, it should be handled discreetly, at least not so blatantly in the news... Perhaps it's because the nature of the crime is so egregious?]

But you don't care about these things anymore.

You gave up.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, you will spend the rest of your life in a real prison.

"That's it—that's what you're thinking."

But then, you saw her again.

[This is your first official meeting with that girl named Alicia—although the venue is a bit awkward, you're still very happy.]

She is indeed, as she herself said, a very lovely girl.

She told you that the priest did indeed intend to harm her, but she was very capable and managed to escape. She didn't come back afterward, partly because the priest had arranged for people to look for her outside, and partly because she had found someone she could trust.

[In fact, on the night you killed the priest, she sensed something was amiss, because she detected the presence of someone of her kind again, though very faint, but the same illusion she had when she first saw you. So she vaguely guessed that something had happened to you, and rushed over as fast as she could—but she didn't say any of this.]

Because she was late, whether due to an accident or someone deliberately trying to obstruct her, it's already too late. Saying anything more will only make her seem like she's making excuses.

She introduced you to the person who had come with her (or rather, the one who brought her in), someone she considered trustworthy—a priest.

To be honest, when you first saw him, the resentment and madness that had just subsided almost resurfaced, and you tensed up as if you had PTSD, looking at the priest warily.

If it weren't for the fact that he was brought by Alicia, and if it weren't for the fact that you don't hurt people based on unfounded suspicions... you probably would have pounced on him and tried to kill him.

Fortunately, you didn't. You clearly understood that the person in front of you was different from the dead priest... Even though you harbored strong suspicions about anyone who held that title, you still held back.

This priest, who calls himself "Enrique," is highly renowned both within the church and internationally. He is a true and devout priest who travels the world, serving as a tour guide for churches. He came here simply to check on the church, as it had been a long time since anyone from the church had visited. The local priest said that everything was fine.

[But he happened to run into Alicia on the road and overheard her plea for help.]

He wasn't entirely convinced by Alicia's words at first, given the priest's good reputation and popularity in the neighborhood. However, upon learning of his tragic death, he felt heartbroken and instinctively formed a judgment about your nature—undoubtedly, the bad kind.

But upon seeing your almost instinctive wariness and the suppressed resentment in your eyes, the scales in his heart shifted slightly.

He decided to investigate the matter thoroughly and began asking you what the truth was. He promised that if there was indeed more to the story, he would be willing to overturn the verdict for you.

You don't care much about whether you can overturn the verdict. After witnessing the pre-arranged trial process, you don't think Father Enrique has the ability to fight against it. You only hope that he can take the other children away from that place.

[With your excellent memory, you told Father Henry everything you knew about the church in detail, but you didn't mention a word about yourself.]

Although you mentioned it briefly when Alicia pressed you for details, you only gave a vague answer and didn't elaborate.