She is not an investigator.

“What I mean is…”

"I will eventually die, perhaps from illness, perhaps from old age, perhaps from some accident, and be buried in the soil. And after I die, every new mission will be taken up by someone else."

Igris looked at the administrator.

"Including... that secret treasure, eventually a new administrator will appear, and the path of collection will begin again, but it doesn't have to be me, nor does it have to be us. If completing everything requires killing her, then I can't do it, I can't do it no matter what."

At a time like this, he suddenly said something like that.

That's completely irresponsible.

“Igris, you should know that is our mission and task.”

"I know."

Igris nodded, but then tilted her head and said...

"So what? What will be the result of completing everything? What will we gain? A trophy? A title? Or the respect of everyone? That's not what I want. If we collect the treasures to end the suffering of this world, then even if we really get all the treasures, will the suffering really end?"

Igris shook her head.

"Obviously not."

"Countless people are still living in dire straits, and countless people are still facing a life of despair."

"My life has always been permeated by one word: mission, mission, and damn mission."

“I used to live for others, for a name, for a belief, but now I only want to live for Igris, and ask Igris what she would do now.”

"And my answer is only one: to hell with mission, to hell with task! Why should I bring suffering to others because of all this? Why should I put myself in suffering because of all this? No way!"

So now.

Igris approached the weakened witch, yanked her up from the ground, forcefully pulled her to her side, and put her arm around her shoulder.

"That's my answer."

Snap—Snap—Snap.

A continuous round of applause erupted.

In this world that has suddenly begun to fade.

A figure burst into this world.

The caretaker instinctively stepped in front of Igris, but before she could raise her scimitar, she too lost her color.

In the tranquil world, only two figures remained, facing each other and gazing at one another.

Until he spoke.

"Bingo! You triggered the bad ending. You didn't collect all the treasures, nor did you kill the last boss on your way. Your role ends here, poor Igris. I told you, they shouldn't have had too many expectations of you."

Clang—!

His response was met with the weapon in Igris's hand.

“You want to create a wonderful story, but in this play, I have already completed all my parts.”

"Of course, of course, you're right."

He opened his arms and said with a grin.

"So, it's time for you, the main character, to exit the stage, isn't it?"

[■■Error, Correct, In——Erase—■Defeat, Failure]

"Oh! I almost forgot about that."

He snapped his fingers, and the world of his dream began to slowly collapse.

"I'm sorry to say, I'd love to see what would happen if those people found out you were really dead... Just kidding. Well then, Igris, your story ends here. I hope you're satisfied with the journey... If you're not, that's fine too, since you can't complain about me anyway."

He waved playfully, then slowly backed away.

"Well then... goodbye."

"Or rather—see you in the next story."

The bizarre stage play – The Prideful Witch and the Wonderland: No disappointing ending

I'm currently working on the drafts for my new book. I'll finish writing the ending when I have time. The final volume will be written as a side story and will be free.

Above

(Purple sweet potato pudding)

Final Volume – The Death of the Investigator: Chapter One, Merry Christmas, Miss Igris

A snowy night on Molkens Street offers a rare moment of tranquility in this city.

With fewer homeless people on the streets, the police officers on duty can now relax in their warm homes, enjoying the snow and a beer.

It's rare for someone to choose this particular time to commit a crime that is so outrageous that it would offend both gods and men.

Whether it's for Jesus or for Santa Claus.

Does believing in Santa Claus seem childish and ridiculous?

If Jesus can have Christmas to celebrate, why can't Santa Claus?

That's what Iris has always thought.

"Miss Administrator—can you help me?"

Today is Christmas.

It was also a rare, uneventful holiday for Igris.

"I'm busy."

Ever since Igris gave up her job as administrator, the administrator has been sulking.

But she was just habitually having some disagreements with Igris. As long as Igris was willing to swallow her pride and coax her, she would reconcile with Igris as usual.

Although Igris wouldn't do that.

"You mean you're too busy because you have two stupid cats on your lap?"

Igris struggled to carry a Christmas tree taller than herself into the living room, gently wiping non-existent sweat from her forehead, and complained somewhat.

However, her words clearly provoked dissatisfaction among some people.

Or rather, certain cats.

There's clearly only one stupid cat in this house.

Black Cat was in a good mood, so she didn't react much to Igris's offense.

I just casually cursed at the white cat.

As for the blank lines, she seemed to have no intention of paying any attention to them.

Perhaps in such a cold season, the warmth of sitting by the fireplace could indeed make her completely ignore the black cat's harsh words for a short time.

After all, White Cat is very busy.

Busy dozing off.

"Please, it's Christmas today. You're not really planning to leave me alone, are you?"

Igris held the colored lights in her hand; she really wanted to hang them on the Christmas tree.

Yes, it's a pity that the tree is much taller than her, and the only chair in the room is right under the caretaker's bottom.

"Come lend a hand, we have to get the Christmas tree decorated no matter what."

The caretaker sighed silently, stood up, and the two cats on her lap ran off, disappearing without a trace.

They probably went to catch mice.

Do you need me to hold you?

She came up behind Igris, looked at the treetop that she couldn't reach, and offered a less-than-ideal idea.

"Actually, we can lay it down, fill it in, and then straighten it up."

Igris smiled politely at the caretaker, who didn't say much, but simply knocked the Christmas tree over in the living room.

Is she throwing a tantrum?

"Thanks, dear."

Igris hurriedly hung everything she was carrying on the tree and, together with the caretaker, straightened the Christmas tree.

Only after she had finished doing everything did she gently wipe the sweat from her forehead and let out a soft breath.

"Perfect! I haven't seen a Christmas tree in at least several years."

Igris was telling the truth; after all, she was rolling around in the Arctic glacier last Christmas.

"I really want to ask, what is the point of you going to all this trouble to move a pine tree into your living room?"

The female caretaker, hands on her hips, casually flicked the bell hanging above and shook her head with a hint of helplessness.

Perhaps Igris will never grow up.

"I made a wish to Santa Claus."

For once, Igris showed a childlike smile, her eyes full of innocence and purity.

Unfortunately, the manager knew her true nature perfectly well.

“Santa Claus doesn’t exist… You might as well make a wish to me instead.”

"Okay, maybe you're right."

Igris shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

"So I hope that this holiday I can get together with more friends. To be honest... I haven't seen them in a long time."

"they?"

The female administrator crossed her arms and squinted slightly.

Igris paused abruptly, and somewhat awkwardly touched her loose golden hair.

"You know... um... I have more female friends."