Chapter 31: Everything Is Fate’s Choice

In the rain, the blonde girl buried her head in her knees, her disheveled hair and bloodied wounds making her seem pitifully fragile.
Of course, that’s what someone who hadn’t seen her skills would think. In reality, she likely didn’t need help—maybe she was just crying alone in a corner after a breakup.

“If you’re fine, I’m leaving.”

Tina wasn’t keen on dealing with such an erratic person. Being so unpredictable wasn’t exactly a virtue.
But as she turned, the girl grabbed her wrist, holding tight.

“Hey! Ouch, let go!”

The girl’s grip was strong, her sword-calloused hand rough to the touch.
Perhaps realizing she’d hurt Tina, she loosened her hold, opening her mouth as if to speak but hesitating.

“Look, just say what’s on your mind. All this grabbing isn’t cool.”

“Mm.”

Tina sighed—she’d finally heard the girl’s first word.
“So, what’s your deal? Got a problem with me, or are you afraid I’ll spill your secrets and want to silence me?”

“No, no, I…”

Maybe it was years of silence, but the girl spoke like early humans taming their tongues, stumbling over every few words.
“I… can I go… with you?”

“Huh?” Tina’s head sprouted a giant question mark. “Do I know you?”

Fresh out of the simulation, they were total strangers.
“I… don’t know. It’s… instinct.”

It was hard to describe—like fish yearning for the sea or birds for the sky, her body and soul instinctively gravitated toward this stranger.
But she wasn’t sure if they’d met, because—

“Why the eyepatch? Can you even see the road?”

Tina reached out, only for the girl to reflexively block her.
“Ah, s-sorry, that’s… instinct too.”

“…” Tina pondered.

Weird. Too weird.
What was under that eyepatch, guarded like a primal instinct?

Damn it, the more it was hidden, the more curious she got.
Was this some psychological game?

Fine, you win.
“Let’s be clear: you’re in a sorry state, and you haven’t attacked me, so I’ll help you find a place to stay—though it’s not mine.

Second, no freeloading. What can you do for me or the family there? You’ll need to pull your weight.”

Tina wasn’t about to bring a stranger home for nothing, especially not to mooch.
Even as a hired muscle, the girl needed value.

“I… don’t know how to do… anything.”

“Your swordsmanship seemed pretty good. Why so humble now?” Tina couldn’t figure out what this girl was thinking.

“That’s… instinct too. They wanted to hurt you, so…”

“Ugh, everything’s ‘instinct’ with you. Isn’t taking care of yourself an instinct too?”

“Uh…”

The girl lowered her head, troubled. “Take care… of myself? How?”

Tina fell silent, feeling bad for scolding her further.
This wasn’t just naive innocence. At twenty-three or twenty-four, how could she live like a child?

So, when she was being beaten earlier, it wasn’t some masochistic quirk—she genuinely lacked the instinct to resist?
“Alright, alright. I need a helper anyway. You work for me, and I’ll talk to the family. If extra costs come up, I’ll cover them.”

“Thank you.”

It was the smoothest thing she’d said, though just two words.
“What’s your name?”

“Irene.”

“Alright, Irene. You can call me Tina from now on.”

They exchanged names.
Tina opened her umbrella, helped Irene up, and brought her back to the mansion.

At the gate, a maid greeted them, but the nobleman was wary.
“Miss, who’s this?”

“My new helper. She’s got skills and will be key to finding Vanessa tomorrow.”

“Alright, if she’s a guest, I’ll have her treated well.” Trusting Tina, he overlooked Irene’s beggar-like appearance, noting her sword as a sign of credibility.

A maid approached. “New miss, let me take you to clean up.”
“No… don’t…” Irene shrank back, clinging to Tina’s arm.

“Uh, she’s shy. I’ll handle it.”

Tina hadn’t expected Irene to trust only her, wary of others.
“Very well, the bath’s upstairs. I’ll lead the way.”

The maid guided the drenched pair to the third floor, where a hot bath awaited. “I’ll leave you two. Call if you need anything.”

After the maid left, Tina and Irene stared at each other.
“You can bathe yourself, right?” Tina knew it was a long shot but asked anyway.

“No… I can’t.”

“Should’ve seen that coming.”

Resigned, Tina took charge. It was her first time bathing someone else—a girl, no less.
But it wasn’t flirtatious; it felt like caring for a child.

“I can’t imagine how long it’s been since you last washed.”

As she spoke, Tina removed Irene’s soaked, filthy clothes, revealing pale skin underneath.
…A bit striking.

Too much for one hand to handle, huh?
“Ahem, get in the tub. I’ll scrub you.”

Irene obeyed, soaking in the steaming water, waiting for Tina.
“Arms up. Good, down. Stretch your leg. Now your head, lean closer…”

After a grueling ordeal, Tina finished.
“Done. Finally clean.”

Wiping Irene’s long hair, Tina’s mind lingered on the soft texture.
Just the skin, mind you—nothing specific.

“By the way, if you don’t bathe, do you not eat either?”

“Kind people… give me food.” Irene sat quietly, enjoying the scalp massage.
“And if you don’t meet kind people?”

“I… pick up scraps… eat.”

Her tone was flat, as if it were normal.
“Ugh, you—forget it. Stick with me, and you won’t go hungry.”

Tina’s last bit of frustration turned to pity.
“No one taught you how to survive?”

“I… don’t remember.”

“You lost your memory? How do you remember nothing?”

“Maybe… yes. Since I can recall… I’ve been wandering.”

Tina sighed.
What a tragic girl.

How could amnesia erase even her learned skills?
What kind of despair caused this?

If someone deliberately caused Irene’s memory loss, they were beyond despicable.