The guard, left alone, looked at me with a prickly expression and clicked his tongue.
“You always leave this kind of thing to me. I can’t help it.”
I forcefully shook off the hand of the large guard who was striding toward me with menacing strides. A chill ran down my spine at the sight of the rope wrapped around the man's hand, a feeling of intimidation.
There's no doubt they're trying to kill me and disguise it as suicide.
I briefly wondered if this was just Celine's thinking, but gradually the only thought that filled my mind was the need to live.
“Let go!”
"My little sister is very sick. I couldn't help it. So please, just stay still. I'll kill you comfortably."
I furrowed my brow furiously and bit down hard on the guard's hand that was trying to cover my mouth. As the guard's hand was bitten off, I screamed, and a flash of pain shot through my cheek.
A hot stream ran down my nose. The guard who had mercilessly punched me in the face frowned and grabbed me by the collar.
“It’s not even a dog, it’s a biting mess.”
The pain was almost unbearable, but I clung to my senses with every ounce of strength. What does this pain matter now? Even as a villainous supporting character, I refuse to be reduced to this. No matter who I am, death still terrifies me.
“You always leave this kind of thing to me. I can’t help it.”
I forcefully shook off the hand of the large guard who was striding toward me with menacing strides. A chill ran down my spine at the sight of the rope wrapped around the man's hand, a feeling of intimidation.
There's no doubt they're trying to kill me and disguise it as suicide.
I briefly wondered if this was just Celine's thinking, but gradually the only thought that filled my mind was the need to live.
“Let go!”
"My little sister is very sick. I couldn't help it. So please, just stay still. I'll kill you comfortably."
I furrowed my brow furiously and bit down hard on the guard's hand that was trying to cover my mouth. As the guard's hand was bitten off, I screamed, and a flash of pain shot through my cheek.
A hot stream ran down my nose. The guard who had mercilessly punched me in the face frowned and grabbed me by the collar.
“It’s not even a dog, it’s a biting mess.”
The pain was almost unbearable, but I clung to my senses with every ounce of strength. What does this pain matter now? Even as a villainous supporting character, I refuse to be reduced to this. No matter who I am, death still terrifies me.
He grabbed the back of my neck with a vicious grip and pulled me back, clicking his tongue. I writhed and struggled against the rope that was about to be wrapped around my neck. The buttons on my clothes clattered and fell to the cold floor.
"Why is this little thing so strong? Do you want to get in trouble?"
“What could be more brutal than this?”
Let's buy some time, somehow.
I gritted my teeth and struck his groin hard with my knee. The guard's face was contorted in unspeakable pain.
“Ah!”
With a shrill scream, the guard curled up and rolled around on the floor in pain.
“What are you talking about? I told you to hurry up and finish before the fireworks end.”
Another guard standing guard at the door heard the man's scream, not mine, and rushed in. He rolled on the floor, his face constricted to its limit, and his face flushed with embarrassment.
“Hey, did you get kicked? Who the hell is this bitch trying to kill!”
I gasped for breath and pressed my back against the dark, dark wall, with nowhere else to retreat.
I planned to push the guard blocking the entrance and run out, but I didn't have the confidence to push that guard, who was twice as big as the one I had already neutralized, away with my wretched body.
All I could think about was buying time. Maybe someone, a lieutenant colonel or something, would come to rescue me.
He's a righteous male protagonist whose hobby is saving the poor. Oh, I'm not even the protagonist, just a consumable supporting character. Could I benefit from such exquisite timing?
I yelled at the guard.
“Do you think you’ll get away with doing something like this?”
"We have to kill you to stay safe. We've already received the money, and if we fail, we die."
I feel like negotiations are useless in this situation.
My lips, split open by the blow, were hot. I couldn't think of any way out of this situation. Thinking of the continual conclusion, I pulled my lips together and let out a hollow laugh.
Is that rope the only lifeline I can find to escape this hell? Where will I, a non-human of this world, go when I die? It will simply be a return from an unfamiliar hell to a familiar one.
My breath dissipated and vanished into nothingness. Was I destined to follow in the footsteps of the original Diana, vanishing so meaninglessly?
The guard blocking the entrance suddenly approached me with a ferocious expression, grabbed me by the collar, and slammed me hard against the floor. A cold shock traveled through my forehead, then it suddenly turned hot.
A loud noise echoed inside and outside my body. My head shook violently, and my consciousness gradually faded. Before I could even register the pain of hitting the floor, my vision was dyed red.
"Ha."
I barely managed to regain my senses, raising my upper body and groaning. The incessant crackling of firecrackers was a hollow echo, a silence that marked the moment my life ended.
The emotions that had been locked away behind a calm expression and detached attitude were finally crumbling away, leaving only a sense of helpless despair.
I'm sad. I'm miserable. It hurts. I really can't eat. I can't stand it.
Regardless of whether one is passive or active, a person can't live alone without relying on anyone, so why was I always alone?
And in a place that felt even more miserable than hell, I lay face down on the cold floor, desperately swallowing the sorrowful emotions of imminent death.
Still, I didn't cry.
All she could do was mutter the name I'd never uttered, like a final will. I clutched his coat, the only thing that gave me warmth. It was a tender name I'd kept hidden deep in my heart, like a child burying a precious object.
I wanted to sing it once because I thought it might be the last time.
Noah.
A man who is a villain to some, but a good man to me, and a hero to others.
We weren't a proper couple, nor were we in love, but he was the only person I could think of, and I desperately yearned for him. There were things I wanted to say to that beautiful person who had been so kind to me for no reason, who had promised to protect me, but now it feels like I'm missing something.
The guard, hearing the sorrowful, cracking voice, approached with an interested expression.
"What? You're finally confessing to colluding with the Frogen side..."
The guard, who had been standing there with his hands on his hips, looked down at me, but his words suddenly stopped. I looked up.
The lower jaw and mouth, covered with a messy beard, were tightly shut by someone's hand.
The guard, his eyes wide with confusion, flinched. His dry eyes rolled upwards, and as if suddenly struck by a memory, a spurt of red blood gushed from his neck.
The guard's body tilted, and behind the fountain of blood that sprayed out in a trajectory, a man's face appeared expressionless.
As I sat there in a daze, I thought it was beautiful, like a scene welcoming a moment of liberation and freedom.
The loud sound of firecrackers was no longer the sound that concealed my death, but a celebratory firework that helped me save myself, turning a blind eye to the death of the person who had tried to harm me.
The body, no longer a living person, fell to the floor with a dull thud like a piece of wood.
The figure of a black-haired man standing upright in a dark blue Belford uniform was fully revealed. He held a short military knife in one hand.
A small portion of the flame's light leaked in through the small window of the cell, illuminating the figure and then disappearing repeatedly.
My vision was blurry, blocking everything in front of me, and I could only see outlines, but the cloudy blue eyes covered in all the colors of the flames felt clear.
From that day on, the man, who still had the faint, lingering scent of perfume, looked at my swollen cheeks and forehead and asked.
“Who are you?”
It was a soft voice, deeply etched with anger, a voice I'd heard before. I closed my eyes tightly and then opened them. I couldn't tell if I was losing my mind or if I was reassembling the faint remnants of my memories and seeing and hearing what I'd hoped for.
“That black hair, Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal? No, who are you...?”
The guard, who had been lying half-conscious after being kicked in the butt by me, barely managed to get up from the sudden turn of events. He looked puzzled upon seeing his unusually dark hair color, and before he could say anything else, the black-haired man silenced him.
“It’s you.”
It was a chilling voice, as if intent on harming the listener. Its ominous, murderous tone was so intense that it made one wonder if it was even human.
The guard was unable to overcome the strength of the muscular man who suddenly came up behind him, covered his mouth, and subdued him.
A red line began to appear around his neck, and a bulging tendon appeared on the guard's forehead. He struggled desperately to escape the unbearable agony of death.
The prison was filled with the intermittent groans that escaped through the clogged fingers and the excruciating sound of the soles of their shoes rubbing against the floor as they struggled.
The hideous hand that had tried to kill me resisted desperately, tearing at the arm of the man who was trying to suffocate me. Finally, the guard's pale hand fell limply, shaking helplessly.
The black-haired man, who had carelessly tossed aside the lifeless body, still looked at me with chilling eyes. The smell of blood grew stronger, and a faint, familiar scent grew closer.
A ferocious-looking assassin, covered in the blood of the slaughter he had committed to get here, slowly approached me, breathing coldly.
It was so cruelly beautiful that, unlike its fierce appearance, it carefully wrapped its hand around my cheek as if it were fragile.
His once flawless face was covered in scratches, and the arms of his uniform were torn and soaked in blood.
The corners of his eyes were red and wet, and he looked sad and sorrowful, just like the day we parted.
“Diana.”
He called my name in a dry, dry voice. A sigh escaped his lips. A beautiful, multicolored firework poured in through the small window.
Just like that day, when he reached out to me with a daffodil bud beneath the fireworks that colored the sky, conveying his feelings, the memories of longing, which surged out with all their might, pierced me.
I always wondered how he would respond. No, I always waited. In fact, what I most longed for was to see him again, even briefly.
The man who gave me such fond memories, even throughout my original life, that I'll miss him forever. He crouched down, placed his hand on my cheek, and just stared at me.
The murderous energy in his empty blue eyes, devoid of sorrow or joy, faded. This time, he didn't ask if I wanted salvation. He simply did as he pleased.
“Diana, this is my true heart.”
Noah, with his hair dyed jet black, conveyed his true feelings with an expressionless face filled with an emotional void.
He was a person who always had a consistent smile, like a beautifully made but lifeless harmony.
I realized that was his real face.

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