The moment I witnessed the scene unfolding before me, I felt my breath catch.
The familiar wallpaper and corridor.
At the end, kneeling, was a girl whose figure struck me with a sense of déjà vu.

At first, I hesitated when I saw just her long black hair from behind.
But as her face became partially visible,
the moment I caught sight of her terrified expression, I recognized her immediately.

'Young Irene Vermont...'

That’s Irene from the past.
It’s hard to tell exactly how old she is, but she’s probably around twelve.

With her flowing black hair and red eyes,
I recognized her as Irene right away,
but conversely, without those distinguishing features, it would be hard to believe this was Irene's childhood self; she looks entirely different from how I know her now.

Her expression, usually fierce even when neutral, had transformed into the innocent gaze of a child,
and the high heels that seemed like they would stomp on me at any moment were now just small shoes.
And those sharp nails that looked like they might scratch my cheeks were now neatly manicured.

'What on earth happened to turn her so dark?'

Is this really the same person?
How could such a seemingly innocent girl grow up to become this villain?
It felt like I was witnessing the humble past of a glamorous bully, a shocking revelation that hit me hard.

“Damn it. Why did it have to fall here... Just look away.”
“Just a moment. I just want to see what’s beyond that door.”
“Hey! Stop! Stop it, Aslan!!!”

Clank, clank.
Irene continuously pulled at the handcuffs in frustration.
She struggled to drag me back, but it was useless.

In the Shadow World, the physical laws of reality do not apply.
Irene’s brute strength wouldn’t work here.
What acts stronger than physical force in this place is none other than mental power.

“Not looking? Do you want to die!?”

Was she flustered by showing her childhood self? The current Irene had weakened to the point where I could easily drag her along.
Like a petulant child, I pulled on the floor-dwelling Irene without mercy
and peered through the crack in the door that the young Irene was looking through.
What appeared inside was, surprisingly enough,

'Aslan Vermont...?'

It was Aslan.
Young Aslan.
He seemed to have been somewhat sharp in his younger years, as intelligence peeked through his gaze.
That aside, he looks obnoxious.

Until now, I thought Yuri looked obnoxious, but this kid surpasses that by a long shot.
At least Yuri is somewhat cute.
Young Aslan looked like someone I’d want to hit ten times over.

And standing in front of Aslan was...
A middle-aged man who looked just like Aslan, with a sinister expression.
The Count of Vermont, perhaps.
He was the former head of the family who fell into the madness of black magic and was executed for conducting cruel experiments.

“Damn it, look away! Please, please... Ugh... Stop, just stop...”
“...?“

Irene, who initially resisted as if she would kill me,
gradually shifted from resistance to pleading at some point.
Now, she was clinging to my arm, sobbing and begging me to stop.

Why is she like this?
Has she reverted to her innocent self after looking at her past memories?
Seeing Irene so reluctant to show this side of herself convinced me that I had to look.

“Father. Is my sister really a Vermont?”
“Why? Does it seem otherwise?”
“Yes. No matter how I look at it, it’s hard to believe we share the same bloodline.”
“Then do you think it would be best to eliminate her? Tell me, Aslan. What do you think?”
“I...”

The conversation that followed
was enough to leave a shocking impact on young Irene.

Survival of the fittest.
In the Vermont household, where cruelty was demanded of the children, Irene was a being like a mutation.
Though they grew up seeing the same things and learned the same lessons,
while Aslan had a cruel nature that surpassed their father, Irene was purer than anyone.

“Haah! Ughhh...!”

She soon gasped for breath,
lying on the ground in pain.
The young Irene trembled at the corners of her eyes and soon began to cry tears like chicken droppings before fleeing.

But I remained there,
determined to continue eavesdropping on the remaining conversation.

“Ha ha ha. If that’s how you feel...” “Father. I will handle it.” “What do you mean?” “You don’t need to dirty your hands. I will take care of it myself.”

It was perhaps fortunate that I hadn’t heard up to this point.
The Aslan of this time was a hopeless piece of trash who tried to kill his own sister.
How did Irene, the only sane one in a household filled with such garbage, manage to endure?

As the scenery before me changed,
I moved on to Irene’s next memory.

“D-Damn it!”
“Miss?”
“My clothes are a mess! Who the hell is the maid who washed these...!”

From the next day, Irene had completely changed.
She began to hurl abuse at the hired help and resorted to violence.
The tasks assigned by her father were done brutally, using any means necessary, in accordance with the ‘Vermont way.’

At first, she seemed awkward.
But as if to say that blood cannot be hidden, she quickly became accustomed to it,
and Irene’s skills soon surpassed Aslan’s.

In terms of achievement and diplomacy, Irene was vastly superior to Aslan.
Yet she never forgot to keep Aslan beneath her.
Whenever there was a chance, she used her cultivated strength to make Aslan kneel and only sent him back after thoroughly beating him with a switch until her interest waned.

'Is that why I can only tremble in fear whenever I encounter Irene?'

The changed Irene greatly satisfied Count Vermont.
Orders for elimination fell to the wayside.
Thus, Irene appeared to have become the 'true Vermont' on the surface.

“I’ll get the chunk of neodymium and dispose of it. So that no one can find it. Neither my father nor Aslan will be able to get their hands on it...!”

Irene’s essence remained the same.
In truth, she didn’t want to indulge in curses
or hurt anyone; she was still a tender-hearted girl.
Irene’s essence was unchanged from the time she peeked through the door.

Therefore, Irene could not overlook the Vermont family’s cruelty.
She resolved to obtain the neodymium before her father or Aslan could.
Risking her life for achievement and gaining her father’s recognition,
collecting money by any dirty means was all part of the larger scheme for this day.

Irene secretly searched for the chunk of neodymium under a disguised identity,
and perhaps because she offered an unprecedentedly high price, the chunk of neodymium quickly appeared at auction.
The auction was predetermined, with a winning bidder already in place.
There were no surprises, and Irene ultimately succeeded in obtaining the neodymium.

...or at least that’s what she would have believed.
Until Aslan showed up.

“Your filial piety is truly admirable, sister. You prepared all this for father.”
“A-Aslan!?”
“This contribution will surely be highly regarded by father. Now, please hand over the neodymium.”
“...I’ll give it to you, but I’ll hand it to him personally. Tell him I’ll go to the mansion tomorrow.”
“Time is of the essence. What if you were to ‘accidentally’ break the neodymium?”
“Wh-What do you mean! I can’t give it to you!”
“Leon. Subdue her. Without causing injury.”
“Hey!!!”

Despite having trained her own strength, Irene was powerless against the might of a sword expert.
In an instant, her wrist was twisted, and she fell face down on the ground.
The neodymium chunk that fell from her twisted hand was caught by Aslan’s pale hand.

With that scene, the visuals in front of me wobbled again
and began to transition into another memory.

'The neodymium wasn’t with Irene...?'

The winning bidder was clearly Irene,
but on their way out of the auction house, Aslan and his knights ambushed Irene.
In the end, the one who obtained the neodymium was none other than Aslan.

'Then where is the chunk of neodymium now?'

Does the neodymium currently belong to me?
What on earth is going on?
I wanted to ask Irene in disbelief, but...

“Ah. Ahh. A...” “This is bad.”

Perhaps due to being exposed to trauma for too long,
Irene, bound by the handcuffs, lay on the ground, convulsing and nearly fainting.
She was completely broken now.
It seems the time has come to gradually stop viewing the past.

.

.

.

[...! ...! ...! ...!]

Huff, huff, huff.
As I exhaled rapidly,
Laura’s clone quickly glanced back at the path they had taken.

Emilia was being dragged away, bound.
Skeleton soldiers surrounded the area of the mountain.
And there was the green-haired girl along with the busty knight on patrol.

With this body, it was now impossible to grow large.
If I were discovered, I would surely be caught without resistance.
It was a miracle that I had managed to escape that terrifying encirclement.

[...!!]

Now that I didn’t have to worry about being caught, I needed to get Irene out quickly.
She was so afraid of the past that she dreamt of nightmares every day!
How had she fared being trapped in the flood of memories for so long?

As Laura trembled, looking distressed,
just as she was about to open her mouth...

[...!?]

In an instant, darkness enveloped everything, and a chill ran through me.
It felt as if winter had descended upon me.
Ah. Could it be?

[Where do you think you’re spitting out of turn?]
[...!!]

Thud, thud.
In the darkness, a woman’s figure emerged, pale against the backdrop.
At the sound that followed, Laura’s body froze.

Though it was the first time I had heard that voice,
I immediately recognized its identity.
A primal fear.
The fear etched into every evil god’s instinct overwhelmed Laura.

[It’s not yet time. You cannot... Ah! My servant is asking to be let out! Quickly! Open your mouth!]
[...??]

Wha...
Was she always this frivolous?
Laura hurriedly opened her mouth, lost for words in her confusion.