The Girl Named G (I)

The following chapters are short biographies of Givinia (my wife), almost like side stories. Those not interested in her can skip them, but those who are are welcome to read them carefully!

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One hundred and ninety-two years ago, on the East Emperor Continent, in the Zitan Kingdom, in the Imperial City...

The former Prime Minister's Mansion is now engulfed in flames. In the relatively intact second-floor corridor, two men dressed as guards endure the acrid smoke, frowning as they survey everything within their sight.

"Damn it... so what's the point of us coming here?"

"No one has looted this place before us, isn't that enough?"

"But that madwoman ruined everything! Look, look! All the gold, jewels, and paintings are gone!"

"Quiet down!"

"Quiet my ass! The fire's still crackling and popping, does that woman really think she can hear us?"

"What if we two happen to run into her? The royal family, high-ranking officials, ladies, the entire Imperial Guard —everyone who could be killed has been killed. Do you think she'd mind killing a couple more?"

"... Tsk!"

"So keep your eyes peeled... you might be able to grab something better, don't miss out..."

"That's what they say, but I think we should get out of here quickly. The fire is spreading fast, and we don't want to get burned to death instead of getting any treasure."

"I told you to be quiet!"

These two were certainly not rescue team members; they were originally just two brothers in the Imperial City's garrison. However, starting two days ago, an insanely powerful woman began to wreak havoc in the Imperial City, killing nobles and soldiers alike, with only a few managing to escape.

Since things had already come to this point, the survivors decided to take advantage of the chaos and make a final escape by picking up some of the nobles' valuables. With this thought in mind, they became bolder and ransacked the nobles' mansions. The mansions of those once arrogant nobles had now become silent graveyards, leaving only piles of ownerless luxury goods and works of art.

The two brothers were relatively slow; after searching high and low, it seemed that only the Prime Minister's Mansion, which had caught fire, had not been looted by anyone else.

"That's what they say... but there's really nothing left! Did we all come for nothing in the end?!"

"Tsk, look at your jinxed mouth... uh? There..."

Something seemed to be wriggling slightly in a room almost blackened by smoke. The two exchanged a glance and walked over together.

"... baby?"

"It's a baby girl, no more than a year old by now. Look at this mark on her neck... tsk tsk, it's amazing she's still alive, she's incredibly lucky."

"Someone wanted to strangle her?"

"How slow-witted are you? Isn't it obvious?"

"Then what do we do? We can barely save ourselves, there's no way we can save her."

"Nonsense, she's going to die sooner or later anyway, forget about her, let's—"

Boom!!!

A loud bang came from deep within the mansion, accompanied by a creaking sound overhead that made one's teeth chatter.

"No way!? Damn it, this dilapidated building is about to collapse! We have to get out of here!"

"Just leaving like that? Don't be ridiculous, bro, you're going home empty-handed!"

"Damn! Even if you say that..."

The man scratched his head in annoyance, his gaze suddenly falling on the dying baby girl.

His eyes lit up.

"Hey, have you heard? There are some human traffickers on the black market who specialize in buying children for high prices."

"So you want to take her out and sell her? How much money can you get for her?"

"No... listen to me, those people have incredibly high standards. They specifically take in the descendants of fallen noble families and impoverished aristocrats... basically, children destined to be beauties, raised to adulthood and then sold to important Big Figure with peculiar tastes..."

"... In other words, all we need to do is take this child away, and maybe steal a few things that can prove her noble status, and then..."

"I don't know if it's true or not, but if all goes well, I can at least sell it for..." The man held up a few fingers, "... this amount!"

"But wait a minute! Everyone knows the Prime Minister's son is a lecherous idiot. That guy has tons of illegitimate children hiding around. The problem is, this child is being openly raised in his house, and judging by the clothes he's wearing, he doesn't look like the child of a maid or servant. Could it be...?"

Thinking of this, both of them gasped.

In this way, the child's identity is confirmed.

The Prime Minister's son and his wife's daughter.

In other words, she is the daughter of the witch who caused all this calamity.

"Brother... do you really want to sell a child like this?"

"... Damn it! Why can't we sell it? Since that crazy woman abandoned this child here, it means she doesn't care whether she lives or dies! What's the coward, who cares about all that!"

One hundred and eighty-six years ago, in the East Emperor Continent Aron Republic on the Eastern Emperor Continent, at an Orphanage...

In a small room, several young children are committing violence.

"How many times have I told you! You better listen to me!"

Thump!!

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... Waaah..."

"Huh? What did you say? I can't hear you!"

Bang!!!

"Ugh... C... Please... stop... it hurts!"

"Pain? That's good! Get your facts straight, R!"

The girl called C delivered another kick, this time landing hard on the stomach of the girl called R. R, badly injured, curled up like a shrimp, while none of the children standing by offered any help. They were all children, at most seven or eight years old; some were afraid, some were snickering, and some were expressionless, but without a doubt, they were all on C's side.

Even a fool could see that this went beyond childish bullying; it was a real threat and violence.

This is Orphanage, but not an ordinary charitable facility. It's a human trafficking agency disguised as Orphanage. They specialize in providing young toys for wealthy nobles and merchants with particular tastes. They collect high-quality children and even infants from within the country and neighboring countries, prioritizing children with good genetics and noble blood. They train these children from a young age, aiming to "let their distinguished guests enjoy the exquisite (young) treasures with the skills of a harlot and the virginity of a virgin," as advertised. They are quite famous in the industry.

In such an environment, some of the chosen children lamented their bleak future, while others saw it as a golden opportunity to climb the social ladder and change their fate. R, who was beaten, belonged to the former group, while C, who committed the violence, naturally belonged to the latter. In such an environment, the children matured very early, and they were already capable of scheming and backstabbing, although they were still somewhat naive.

Thump!!

The final kick landed on R's back. C wiped the sweat from his brow and said aggressively, "So you understand now? Next week is the next round of selection. You have to deliberately cause some trouble to get yourself eliminated so I can pass smoothly, otherwise... you know the consequences!"

To prevent children from "growing up badly," the Orphanage conducts periodic quality checks on the children, keeping only those whose appearance and physique still show potential. R almost cried; she knew what would happen to the children who were rejected during the selection process—it would be a thousand times more painful than becoming playthings of nobles.

But what would happen if I didn't agree to C's request?

"I understand... I... will definitely--"

"--But you know, I think someone as stupid as you definitely wouldn't be able to do it right, so I'm going to give you a hand."

As he spoke, C took out a small knife, brought it close to R's face, and gestured with it.

"If you cut off your nose or one or two eyelids, no one will let you through..."

"What?! No, no way! The uncles and aunties in charge will be really angry!"

"As long as no one present says anything, no one will know it was me..."

Please... no!

"Keep quiet! What if we get caught—"

C muttered angrily, slashing at R's tear-streaked face with a small knife, the blade about to pierce her delicate skin—

"... Isn't that a bit inappropriate?"

He's been caught.

A pair of slender hands, yet possessing an astonishing strength for a young girl, firmly grasped C's wrist. The owner of the hands was a seven-year-old girl with light brown shoulder-length hair, who was looking at C with a gentle smile that seemed out of place in the room.

"G!?"

"Exactly."

"What are you doing here? Get out!"

"How rude of me! I only meant well in resolving the dispute."