Whose youth romance story begins with a witch's trial?!

Baosheng Mag watched the scene with great interest and said jokingly.

"Meruru, who are you...wait, wait a minute—whoa ...

Chang Rong ignored Bao Shengma's teasing; he originally wanted to take this opportunity to observe and understand the mastermind behind the scenes more closely.

However, at this moment, Ice Meluru was truly like a jellyfish. After sensing the presence of the "powerful sleeping pill" named Chang Rong in her hands, Ice Meluru uncontrollably gripped Chang Rong tightly. Then, her two pairs of white silk gloves spread upwards to hug him, and with a slight exertion, she directly pulled Chang Rong's upper body down and pounced on her.

Like a doll a girl hugs while sleeping, under the constant onslaught of nightmares, Meru on Ice clung tightly to 'something furry' that brought her warmth and light, and would never let go, holding it tightly to her chest.

"Puuuuuu—wait a minute...puu ...

Chang Rong struggled to get up, but his kneeling position in front of the bed made it difficult to exert any strength. Moreover, his upper body, especially his head, was almost completely enveloped by the enormous sin of Ice Meluru, making it difficult to even breathe, let alone think of a solution.

Warning: The biggest and most horrific suffocation murder on Witch Island is unfolding, and you could be next.

"No, don't leave me... please... I'll be a good boy, I won't fight back... please don't hit me anymore... please... I'm sorry..."

"—"

Chang Rong's struggles once again triggered Melulu's ramblings on the ice, only this time accompanied by even clearer sobs.

Just like Meruru's usual jellyfish-like form, in her dream, she also began to shed small pearls with a soft, pattering sound. However... amidst her sobs, Chang Rong truly felt a sorrow that was almost 'desperate' this time.

This nun, who should have redeemed others and accepted their sins, was now acting like a child. On the ice, Meruru clung tightly to Chang Rong as if holding her most precious possession, refusing to let go, while constantly weeping and pleading for forgiveness, uttering fragmented words.

—Meruru…she truly knew nothing about this 'behind-the-scenes' person. Neither her past nor her future. Neither the happy times she spent with the Great Witch nor the loneliness she endured alone on this isolated island for a hundred years after being abandoned by the Great Witch.

Chang Rong suddenly realized something: perhaps the so-called "affinity" was not necessarily "affinity" or "survival progress in the second playthrough," but rather... "the distance between you and the other person's heart."

He never had the chance to understand this nun, her sins, her pain, the happiness she longed for, and the beautiful dream she shattered with her own hands.

Chang Rong's goal is to "enable everyone to happily embrace the future," so within this goal... does Ice Meruru also have a place of her own?

"Chang Rong-san... Great Witch... I messed up again... I'm... sorry..."

Meruru's breathing gradually calmed down, and the expression on her face became more peaceful. Her tear-streaked cheeks were no longer twisted and ashen from the nightmare.

Just how much does she crave the 'love' of others that simply embracing someone can quell those nightmares?

Chang Rong didn't have time to think about it, because—

"Wow, what a show! I thought the caregiving process would be boring, but I didn't expect such an unexpected bonus!"

As Chang Rong carefully pulled her upper body out of Meruru's arms and confirmed that she hadn't fallen into the nightmare again, she turned around and saw Bao Sheng Ma Ge holding a phone camera in one hand and placing the other hand on her cheek, her cheeks flushed as she spoke provocatively.

"Uh, that, Mag..." Chang Rong blinked and swallowed, looking at the purple-faced man in front of her who should be smiling, not even knowing how to start the conversation.

"[The kind, pure, and innocent Sigma man, risking misunderstanding by others, comforted the poor nun who was tormented by nightmares, and finally succeeded in dispelling the gloom in the nun's heart.]"

"That's right, that's exactly it...!"

"Or perhaps—[The boy who rejected all the witches' advances, his Sigma behavior was simply because he already secretly loved someone he was already taken with. He recklessly indulged in Meruru's gentle embrace, which was no less beautiful than that of Baosheng Mag, willingly becoming a physical slave to the manipulation of the dark side...]"

"Eek, eeek, no, no, that's not how it is!?" Chang Rong cried out in despair.

"Hmm~ The truth is really interesting. Depending on how it's told, the conclusions can be completely different. I'm curious to see what kind of expressions your 'childhood sweetheart fiancée' and 'adopted sister fiancée' will have after hearing this news~?"

Baosheng Mag's smile grew even brighter. She could almost see the wonderful and amusing scene that, after her instigation, the boy in front of her would be cornered by a group of furious, soon-to-be witches, and tortured to death in turn.

"Please don't do this..." After Meruru finally stopped sweating on the ice, it was Chang Rong's turn to break out in a cold sweat.

You have to remember that you just escaped from Hiro's invitation to start a silver party game. If you get pushed into this situation by Baosheng Mag now—

^q^ Hehe, they've already gone to heaven!

"Don't you want this? Then we'll see how sincere you are... Hehe, stand still and don't move around, okay? You don't want the picture of you sticking to the dark side to be leaked, do you?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuah...!"

Baosheng Mag smiled and moved closer to Chang Rong. Her hands slowly moved upwards from Chang Rong's ankles, caressing Chang Rong's shorts, then down to her shirt, the back of her neck, and her earlobes.

Immediately afterwards, Baosheng Mag pressed herself tightly against Chang Rong's back, leaning forward slightly, her legs, clad in white stockings, occasionally twisting from side to side, deliberately emphasizing her equally impressive blast armor on her chest, as she rubbed her breasts against the boy's back with abandon.

"Oh my, how does it feel, Chang Rong? To make sure I don't forget that feeling after so much time has passed, I came over right away. Is this feeling more comfortable, or is the face wash really more exciting for you?"

Baosheng Mag gently tiptoed, placed his hands on Chang Rong's shoulders, and breathed a warm, moist breath on the back of the boy's neck while asking him a question.

For a moment, the only sounds in the infirmary were Baosheng Mag's soft breathing, Chang Rong's groans of endurance, and the jellyfish-like moans of "Holy Son... Holy Son, where are you...?"

"Um—" Chang Rong finally spoke, and Bao Shengma also showed an expectant expression, wondering what kind of response the young man would give.

"Marg, are you... alright?"

“…Oh my, what does this mean~?” Marge was taken aback. Although Chang Rong’s response trembled with shyness, the words he uttered were completely different from what the girl had expected.

“I feel like you’re forcing yourself again? I don’t know why you’re doing these things, but… um, are you planning to ‘punish’ me? If there’s anything about me that you don’t like, you can just say it. Because your current behavior feels more like you’re… morbidly punishing yourself.”

"—"

Chang Rong turned around and looked at the black-haired girl in the kimono in front of him. Although her cheeks were still hot and red from the collision with the ball, Chang Rong still tried his best to maintain a restrained and serious expression and asked Bao Sheng Ma Ge in a soft voice.

During their previous interactions, Chang Rong had realized that Marge didn't actually like overly intimate physical contact with the opposite sex; at least, she didn't want to be touched by him.

As everyone knows, someone who doesn't like being patted on the head is no ordinary aspiring witch; she needs to be dealt with decisively... ahem.

In short, based on the various details that Baosheng Mag had mentioned before, Chang Rong did not see Baosheng Mag's overly intimate actions as some kind of wicked teasing, but rather as a kind of morbid self-punishment with a certain anger.

"...Sigh, you really have no sense of romance, Chang Rong. This is no fun at all."

After a brief silence, Baosheng Mag once again revealed his usual smile, while simultaneously pulling back to distance himself from Chang Rong.

"It would be better to say less of this kind of thing..."

“That’s not up to you~ Besides, I was just kidding you. I would never secretly take pictures in that situation~” Baosheng Mag took out his phone, pinched one corner between his index finger and thumb and shook it with a smile.

“Yes, I believe in Mag.” Chang Rong nodded, expressing her agreement almost without hesitation.

"Oh dear? You were just looking panicked a moment ago~?"

"That was because of a bit of oxygen deprivation in your brain, and some misjudgments caused by external factors beforehand... Think about it carefully, and you'll understand, right? Although you call yourself a con artist, you wouldn't choose to lie when it comes to serious matters, whether it's about Meruru's illness or your analysis of magic when Rhea-sama helped dismantle the trap. Actually, it's clear that you're a very serious person who's willing to help everyone, right?"

Chang Rong recounted Bao Sheng Mag's quiet help to everyone over the past few days, and indeed none of it fit the prankster profession of "trickster." On the contrary, she was very sincere and dedicated.

"Oh my... if you praise me like this, I might really fall for you next time~" Baosheng Mag rested his cheek on one hand, revealing the calm and shrewd smile of a con artist once again.

"If it can help you stop being bothered by certain 'scars', I wouldn't mind having another suitor—just kidding."

Chang Rong responded with a smile. Although she really hoped that this purple-clad person could be more composed and stop suddenly ramming people with the ball without warning, she figured that even if she made a serious request, it would only make her smile even more...

"By the way, Marge, do you know where Uncle Milia is? We need her help with the shower trap too—"

"Waaaaah... Chang Rong-sang... Holy Son... come back soon..."

"Eek—whoa!?"

The ice skating commotion, which had just subsided, suddenly surged forward as if in a daze. Her hands groped haphazardly and actually managed to grab the corner of Chang Rong's shorts, so she took the opportunity to pull them down.

"Mei, Mei Lulu!? Don't pull down someone's pants while you're sleepwalking...!"

"Oh, I take back what I said before. This kind of scene really needs to be filmed~" Baosheng Mag laughed and took out his phone again, gesturing for Chang Rong not to just pull up his pants, but to quickly roll his eyes at the screen, stick out his tongue, and make a peace sign with both hands.

"Don't take pictures!?"

Am I just incompatible with the infirmary? Why do I always seem to trigger some mysterious kissing incident whenever I get close to it?!

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District? Is it a district? No, it is not a district.

I simply returned to the call of the West Coast lifestyle!

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【94.5-4=91.5】

190. I ask you, are you my servant?

Meruru had never received any so-called 'education'. Most of the time, she did not understand what those 'numbers' meant. She even learned about the term 'number' itself little by little from other people.

Even so, Meruru still knows a formula: 25 pieces of clothing = a piece of black bread + a bowl of vegetable soup.

Meruru's mother was a devout believer, but perhaps because her heart wasn't sincere enough, her prayers didn't reach the ears of 'Lord'. When Meruru was young, a plague took her mother's life.

Or perhaps Meruru's survival of the plague was itself a result of her mother's devout prayers? She didn't know which view was correct.

Meruru's father left her on a rainy day, saying he was going to join the army to answer the call to arms. But Meruru never saw her father again after that day.

Having lost both guardians, Meruru had no choice but to rely on her aunt. Although life was very difficult, Meruru comforted herself that at least she had a place to live. That alone made her much better off than those orphans wandering the streets.

Although this somewhat remote town has not been affected by war or banditry, it is still far from being considered prosperous.

Everywhere in the corners of the streets are abandoned orphans who have become homeless. They either have no choice but to steal or band together to survive in every unknown shadow of the town, eventually disappearing silently in the roar of winter or in conflict, becoming nourishment for the town.

Her aunt's house wasn't open to the public for free; she asked Meruru to go out and find work. After some searching, Meruru finally found a job at the laundry room.

Although at first her fingers would feel excruciating pain from being soaked and rubbed repeatedly for a long time, and the icy water felt like a file that wanted to scrape her hands down to the bones, Meruru could only grit her teeth and persevere until the time it took for her to get used to the 'numbness and lack of feeling' was far longer than the time it took for her fingers to be able to perceive various tactile sensations.

Washing clothes is a very tedious job, and the high intensity of the work also leaves Meruru with no room to relax or slack off. In the midst of the repetitive back and forth rubbing, pounding and rinsing, the few forms of 'entertainment' for Meruru are observing the various shapes of the clothes, the simple and rough stitching and patterns.

Occasionally, she would see some rather expensive clothing, perhaps belonging to impoverished nobles who had fallen into the fold. This was an extra surprise for Meruru, as these garments often had more intricate structures and colors, and even beautiful patterns sewn onto them. This made Meruru fantasize about how wonderful it would be if she could make clothes herself. She would definitely create all sorts of incredibly beautiful garments with completely different colors, patterns, and designs.

After a day of washing clothes, the reward was a piece of black bread and a bowl of vegetable soup.

The black bread, which always had a musty smell, always contained strange things, whether it was sawdust or scraps of cloth, and they were all difficult to chew.

In contrast, vegetable soup is always so clean, with only a handful of vegetable pieces visible. More often than not, the only purpose of the soup is to help swallow the unpalatable parts of the bread.

I heard that the laundry room job is actually paid, but I have never seen it. The pay goes directly to my aunt, bypassing me. I don’t complain about this, since my aunt took me in and raised me, so it is only right that I give her the pay.

After finishing her laundry, the next short period of time is Meruru's favorite time of day. She will go to the outskirts of town to gather herbs and flowers that can be used to make tea.

At first, although Meruru's behavior was regarded as "laziness" by her aunt, and she even beat Meruru severely for it, some of the herbs that Meruru picked really had the effect of healing wounds, and the flower tea could also be sold to supplement the family income. Therefore, her aunt later tacitly approved of Meruru's behavior, but the price was that she had to clean the room before going to bed.

Having accumulated countless fatigues from washing clothes, Meruru was forced to continue working even when she needed rest the most. This was becoming unbearable for her, and whenever this happened, Meruru would start to fantasize that she was a puppet or a 'wreck' being manipulated.

The 'wreckage' doesn't need to have its own consciousness; it only needs to sleep soundly in the darkness, handing over control of its body to someone else. When it opens its eyes, all the work will be done—how wonderful that would be!

However, fantasy is just fantasy after all. Meruru's overly humble and naive fantasy was shattered along with the sound of the jar breaking.

While cleaning the room, she lost consciousness and accidentally bumped into a cabinet. The violent shaking caused a ceramic jar hidden on top of the cabinet to wobble and fall. Meruru, whose forehead was broken and bleeding profusely, received no care or comfort. When her aunt saw the jar containing the fine powder broken, her first reaction was to roar and beat Meruru with a wooden stick.

"Stop hitting me! I'm sorry, I was wrong, I won't do it again!" Meruru didn't know if such pleas for mercy were meaningful, but she could only wail incessantly until her voice became hoarse and she lost her voice, until her eyes were dry and bitter because no more tears could flow.

Meruru was locked in the basement to reflect on her actions. In the dark, damp, and cold basement, Meruru, covered in bruises and wounds, curled up with her hands clasped together in front of her chest, struggling to assume a prayer posture.

Her mother taught Meruru how to pray sincerely, and also taught her not to complain about what she had lost, but to be grateful for what she still had.

My Lord, thank you for giving me a place to live, thank you for keeping me from sleeping on the streets. And thank you for giving me this body that allows me to continue working.