Chapter 1: Charlotte Doesn’t Want to Die◆

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want to feel pain.

That’s the most natural desire for a human being. If anyone dares laugh at that, I’d tell them to try going through it themselves.

Anyone—anyone will do. I’m desperately searching for someone who can take my place.

“Maintain dignity as a human being”? Those words only have meaning when safety is guaranteed. To those who’ve never died, I’d rather say—shut up.

"Hah… hah… hah, hahh!"

Gasping for breath, I ran through the catacombs. Tears blurred my vision, warped by sheer terror. My teeth clattered as if trying to scream.

I couldn’t even bring myself to look behind. The sound of death clattered closer and closer. The rattling echoes of skeletons’ footsteps.

The gash on my leg I had healed on my own. I had lied about the number of recovery spells I had left— and that lie saved my life.

"No, no! I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die again!"

――The dungeon. A den of monsters that spewed limitless wealth, while swallowing up countless lives.

Those who ventured inside to gather resources and make a living were called adventurers.

A job where you could earn immense fortune in exchange for your life. To the young, it was a dream of instant riches; to the old, it was the final profession left to them.

Perhaps it was inevitable that I too chose to become an adventurer. There was no other decent path left to live as a human being.

After all—I had been reincarnated into this rotten world as a frail little girl.

In my previous life, I had been just a normal high school boy. One morning on the way to school, I was attacked by a stranger and killed.

That stranger truly was suspicious—muttering creepy chants while driving a blade into me.

And just like that, my life ended. The next time I woke up, I was a cute little girl.

My new name was Charlotte. To those close to me, I was called Lottie.

Born to a poor but kind family, I helped with the family trade and lived a modest life. It was ordinary, uneventful, and peaceful.

If there was one odd thing, it was that I was always told to hide my natural hair color. I had to constantly dye it, and was strictly forbidden from ever showing my true color to anyone.

Those were truly happy days—until the village was burned. I never knew why. I only remember the savage men who attacked, destroying everything and killing everyone.

My mother told me never to make a sound, and I hid beneath the floor. From the cracks, I heard the shouts and screams, but I curled up tight and waited for silence. I repeated Mother’s words over and over in my head, clinging to them.

By sheer luck, I wasn’t found. I survived.

But when I crawled out from hiding, what awaited me was despair. My father had been brutally cut down, and my mother… stripped naked, violated, and left cold.

At first I was in shock, but then I searched desperately through the village, hoping someone else had survived.

There was no one. Nothing. Not a single thing remained.

It was then I realized the truth—this was a world where everything could be taken, and that was the natural order.

I had been mistaken. I thought—even if not wealthy like my previous world, at least I could live a normal life. But that was wrong.

So I resolved myself. I refused to just let everything be stolen until I died. I wanted—at the very least—to live as a human.

For that, I needed power. Power so I wouldn’t be robbed again.

Unfortunately, I had no talent for combat. But instead—I had an aptitude for recovery magic.

At first, I despaired. I didn’t know the value of recovery magic in this world, but it clearly wasn’t something that would help in a fight.

And to make matters worse—though it feels strange to say about myself—I was an exceptionally pretty girl.

After what happened, I could never assume people would treat me kindly just because of my looks. On the contrary, like my mother, I’d likely end up as someone’s plaything, used and discarded.

In the worst case, someone might exploit my healing abilities—forcing me to heal myself over and over while they pushed me to the brink of death.

Just imagining being caught by someone like that chilled me to the bone.

――So instead, I chose to throw myself into danger.

Rather than being prey, I would be the one to draw the line. I would seize control. And if danger came, I would flee before it could swallow me.

Again and again, I caused trouble, left town, and moved on. Eventually, I reached a city where I made a decision.

Leeching off men had its limits. I needed to find proper work somewhere.

But I couldn’t live without the protection of someone strong.

In the end, I chose the path of adventuring, using my recovery magic.

Being cute left a good first impression, making it easier to blend into a party.

If I could form a party with trustworthy comrades, maybe then I could finally live in peace. No more days of doubting everything around me.

Half of that wish came true. I managed to slip into an adventurer party. The men doted on me, treating me well as the healer.

But the women—always, inevitably—they despised me. I understood why. Who would like a girl who joined a party by flirting with the men?

It was the same with this party. The men welcomed me; the women glared daggers. I thought it was just the usual pattern.

It wasn’t. I underestimated these women jealousy.

And this is the result—

Inside the dungeon, my party abandoned me.

When crisis struck, I had already used up my recovery magic. The women slashed my leg and left me as bait, claiming I was useless.

And perhaps because of the chaos, even the men who had praised me joined the women and ran.

I was abandoned.

I knew they disliked me, but I never thought they hated me enough to want me dead.

"Ah—"

The deadly game of tag ended in an instant. My legs gave out from exhaustion, and I stumbled, crashing to the ground.

The female body was far too weak. Ever since I ended up like this, I’d thought it over and over again—this body had pathetic physical strength.

If I had to be reincarnated, why couldn’t it have been into someone stronger, with some kind of cheat ability?

Why not into an easier, softer world instead of this merciless hell?

Complaining didn’t change reality. Through tear-blurred vision, all I could see was the ground.

My legs gave out—I couldn’t stand.

Flat on the floor, I twisted my body around to look behind me.

The skeletons had multiplied. From the original three, their number had already swelled close to double digits.

I tried to crawl backward, but there was no way I could move faster than running. I’d be caught in no time.

Was I going to die again, here of all places? No—I didn’t want that.

Memories flashed through me like a revolving lantern. Utterly useless.

"No… don’t. Don’t come any closer, stay away!"

I waved my hands weakly, as if to drive the skeletons off. I knew in my head it was pointless, but I couldn’t stop myself.

A warmth spread beneath me. Yellow liquid seeped across the ground, steam rising faintly.

Am I… going to die here?

After struggling so hard to live, after clawing this far—was it all just to end here?

I don’t want to die. Somebody… somebody help me!

"——That’s quite a lot of bones. Up until now, they only appeared two or three at a time."

A voice fell from above.

At first, I thought it was the echo of my own voiceless scream—but no. A man stepped between me and the skeletons, not even sparing me a glance.

Where were the others? I glanced around—no one. Just him.

Alone? Against over ten skeletons? That was impossible. No one who could do that would ever show up in a dungeon like this.

I scanned his gear. Plain leather armor. A single straight sword. No sturdy plate, no exceptional weapon. A beginner?

Had I dragged him into this, doomed him to die for my mistake?

I had intended to use others as a shield—but always on the condition that I’d make it out alive. Now that I was paralyzed with fear, all I’d done was add another corpse to the pile.

"R-Run… please, run!"

I hadn’t wanted to increase the number of sacrifices. I had been prepared to abandon someone else, yes—but not to drag them down with me.

I begged in a trembling voice, but the man didn’t even look at me.

Still, I reached out, trying to hold him back. And then—the air split open.

I didn’t even understand what happened at first. Only a moment later did I realize he had swung his sword.

He was terrifyingly strong.

It wasn’t a fight—it was a massacre. The overwhelming might of an absolute powerhouse. With every swing, bones shattered, scattered like twigs.

Three strikes. In the space of just three blinks, the skeletons were gone.

The man calmly slid his blade back into its sheath, as if nothing had happened.

"A-umm…"

"Hmph."

He cast me a single, disgusted glare, then turned and walked away as if I didn’t exist.

"Wait, please! Th-thank you so much!"

Ignored.

A heavy aura of aloofness clung to him, warning others not to approach. Honestly, even as I tried to give thanks, a shiver of fear ran down my spine. Was I sure he wouldn’t kill me himself?

No—calm down. Think about what to do next.

Head for the dungeon entrance? No, no—that was suicide. Alone, I’d be helpless if more monsters showed up.

I couldn’t bear going through that again. My legs still trembled; I doubted I could even run.

Then… even if it meant heading deeper into the dungeon, following him was the safer choice.

Probably. Most likely. He hadn’t killed me already—so he probably wouldn’t kill me right away. Yeah. That had to be it.

Besides—ugh. Now that I’d calmed down, the wetness from before was making me feel gross. I wanted to change clothes… not that I could.

"Ah! Wait, please, wait!"

He kept walking straight back the way I’d come, indifferent, as if I didn’t exist. The distance between us grew fast—if I hesitated, I’d be left behind.

Biting down my disgust, crushing the fatigue in my trembling legs, I forced myself up.

I broke into a light run, chasing after him. He didn’t look back, not once—but I stayed close to his back.

Because following him was the only path I had left to survive.