"Didn't you notice anything strange?"
The woodcutter stared fixedly at the Young Scholar.
The Young Scholar seemed almost rooted to the spot, unable to move.
"Don't you think the Black Monster you keep talking about showed up at a suspiciously convenient time?"
The woodcutter voiced his suspicions.
The Young Scholar:...
To be honest, he had thought so too.
But...
Maybe it really was just a coincidence...
Coincidences were, well, just that—coincidences...
The woodcutter took a deep breath. "...It just doesn't want you to have an easy time!"
The woodcutter didn't hold back.
"Do you know?"
"It didn't show up for such a long time..."
"But as soon as it knew you wanted to be rid of it, it appeared."
"And you, you didn't notice a thing..."
Where had his clever little brother gone?
"It just wants to keep clinging to you..."
The woodcutter reined in his emotions and said each word slowly and emphatically, "Ruining your life."
"It's practically like a..."
"Curse."
The woodcutter lowered his voice, stressing every word.
There was no escaping it.
And the Young Scholar himself remained completely oblivious.
He was willingly walking into the mire.
Leaving the people beside him to cry themselves hoarse, unable to make the Young Scholar look back even once.
The woodcutter shuddered all over.
"Do you understand!?"
"It's a curse!"
"You're tangled up with it!"
"You have to get away from it!"
"Stop letting yourself be led astray by it!"
"Little brother!"
The Young Scholar froze.
"B-Brother..."
"Little brother."
The woman couldn't help speaking up as well.
"Your brother is right."
"Give up on the Black Monster."
The woman sighed.
She truly couldn't understand.
Why was the Young Scholar so fixated on a monster that brought him bad luck?
That's right.
The