The Worst Villain is Actually a Cute Girl-Chapter 5

A flock of sheep, no matter how many, would still be nothing but delicious prey before a wolf.

In a battlefield beyond the realm of human order, numbers were meaningless.

Sure, the extremists had attacked first, but watching them get slaughtered like this almost made me feel a twinge of pity.

"Krgh!"

"Keurgh!"

With a single kick, a man was sent flying into a building. With a single punch, they tumbled like bowling pins, scattering in every direction.

A normal person would recognize their defeat and flee with their tails between their legs.

"““For the Reaper!!”””

But their unwavering belief erased any trace of fear.

With a fierce battle cry, the extremists lunged at Red, thrusting their spears with all their might.

They were far beyond the level of ordinary humans, their movements swift and refined.

Yet before their weapons could even touch Red, the sharp sound of shattering echoed through the air. Their spears splintered, flying uselessly into the void.

Their momentum was strong—but then came Red’s fist, sinking deep into their chests.

Or, in some cases, smashing their faces to bits.

Of course, they weren’t complete idiots.

Realizing a head-on fight was useless, they searched for an opening, aiming for her blind spots to launch surprise attacks.

Naturally, people don’t have eyes on their backs. Such ambushes should have been dangerous.

Thwack! But at a speed beyond their perception, Red’s fist struck them down before they could even get close.

Like that, Red toyed with them—her movements so swift they were impossible for an ordinary human to follow.

And yet, she wasn’t even going all out. She was merely humoring them, playing along as if entertaining children.

They couldn’t even leave a scratch on her.

Still, they refused to give up.

But mere determination wasn’t enough to overcome a true monster.

Their faith was unwavering, yet in reflexes, strength, speed—everything—they were hopelessly inferior to Red.

Three minutes passed.

In the time it took to cook a cup of instant noodles, Red had single-handedly cleaned up the mess in front of the store.

She didn’t look tired in the slightest.

"Is this all you’ve got? I couldn’t even warm up with this."

This was Red—the crime killer.

A person to be cautious of.

I carved it deep into my mind. In front of her, I had to be careful not to expose my identity.

The shopkeeper glanced around, awed by the scene.

At his praise, Red merely shrugged.

"Not really. These guys were just weak."

She stretched her arms skyward, cracking her knuckles, then rolled her neck from side to side.

"Anyway, we should probably ask why they attacked us."

Her gaze swept over the bodies littering the ground before she approached the one who seemed to be their leader.

She knelt before the man sprawled on the floor, grabbed his arm, and twisted it mercilessly.

His body jolted, and a scream ripped from his throat.

He thrashed, trying to break free, but there was no escaping her grip.

Red loosened her hold slightly, allowing him to catch his breath.

"Why are you here?"

"For the Reaper...."

"Why did you attack us?"

"For the Reaper...."

Red didn’t like that answer. She twisted his arm to the limit.

The man convulsed, drooling as he let out another choked cry.

"Not just ‘for the Reaper, for the Reaper.’ Give me something better than that. If you seriously think saying ‘The Reaper has spoken’ will convince me, you’re making a huge mistake."

Her eyes were cold, her voice indifferent.

Ugh. Just as the rumors said—she had no mercy.

I shivered.

"No matter... how much pain you inflict, our faith will never waver! Even suffering and death are blessings bestowed upon us by the Reaper!"

"Oh, is that so?"

"Kkrrraagh!"

Even as he screamed in agony, his eyes—visible through the cracks of his broken mask—were filled with madness.

They were weak. Pathetically so. But the sheer fanaticism in their eyes sent a chill down my spine.

These people were truly unsettling.

"The Reaper is the one who will save this world!"

He suddenly thrust out his free arm, sunlight glinting off something in his grasp.

A dagger.

A final act of desperation—if he was going down, he was taking someone with him.

Crunch!

"Where do you think you’re playing with that hand? Do you know what happens to bad hands?"

Red caught him effortlessly.

With a squeeze, the sound of bones shattering rang out.

The dagger clattered to the floor. His head drooped as if he had lost consciousness.

"I didn’t kill him. Not yet. I still haven’t heard what I wanted to know."

Red stood up.

She dusted off her hands, turning toward us—

And at that moment, the man, who should have been unconscious, suddenly raised his head.

"For the Reaper!"

His mouth gaped open.

A glimmer of light flashed from within—then something shot out.

Red swung her hand, deflecting it.

But she missed one.

A bullet of light shot past her.

She turned sharply.

Red lunged, intending to swat it down.

But the fanatic grabbed her arm with all his might, delaying her just enough.

That split second cost her the chance.

The bullet flew unchallenged—heading straight for the shopkeeper’s heart.

Under normal circumstances, this would be the end for him.

But I was here.

Sorry, but I can’t let the one who makes my sweets die here.

Flash!

I imbued a fraction of my strength into the dessert tongs in my hand. With a swing, I deflected the bullet into the sky—

Then immediately hurled the tongs at the fanatic.

Thud!

"Graaaagh!"

His arm twisted unnaturally, hit dead-on.

I had deliberately held back, only incapacitating him.

Red still needed information from him, after all.

"Kid... what the hell...."

Red’s eyes widened.

But only for a moment.

She quickly regained her composure, grabbed the man by his hair, and was about to do something—

Then she stopped.

Clicking her tongue, she let go, dropping him.

"He took his own life."

Red scanned the other fallen extremists.

I checked too.

They were all dead.

They had taken their own lives to protect their information.

Such impressive loyalty. Or should I call it blind faith?

Red scowled, scratching the back of her head. She looked annoyed that she hadn’t gotten any useful information.

With a sigh, she turned to the shopkeeper.

"Old man, you alright? You hurt anywhere?"

"I'm fine. Thanks to this little customer here."

I could feel their eyes on me.

A skill no ordinary person should have.

Naturally, their attention was drawn to me.

"Kid, what was that just now?"

At Red’s question, I felt a cold sweat trickle down my forehead.

Good thing I had my mask and hood on.

I only used 3% of my power. There’s no way they’d figure out I was the Reaper.

They can’t.

But if she suspects me...?

I could fool most people.

But somehow, I had the feeling that she might figure it out.

Stay calm. If I panic now, it’ll only make things worse.

I shrugged casually, as if it was nothing.

Red stroked her chin, lost in thought.

Then, after a moment, she locked eyes with me.

And in a low voice—

"Hey, kid."

Thump!

"You said you were alone, right? Then... how about joining an orphanage?"

I froze.

What?

An orphanage?

"My sister sponsors one, you see. There are lots of kids there without parents, just like you. And they're trained to survive in this world."

At the word ‘orphanage,’ my stomach churned.

Unpleasant memories surfaced.

"You’d be safer and more comfortable there than you are now. You wouldn’t be alone either. So, what do you say? Want to come with me?"

I shook my head without hesitation.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I nodded immediately.

I knew all too well how shallow and empty goodwill was in this world.

From the moment I opened my eyes here—

Back when I had yet to awaken my power—

I had once sought refuge in an orphanage. Not because I wanted to, but because I had no other choice.

I had wanted to live. I had wanted someone—anyone—to rely on.

And, of course, it had been the worst experience.

With gentle smiles, they lured children in, promising warmth and safety.

But once inside, they abandoned them.

They didn’t care if the children lived or died. Even when they were sick, they wouldn’t spare them a glance.

Some orphanages were even worse—they used the children to make dirty money.

When a spot opened up, they simply brought in another child to fill it.

Those so-called caretakers, who acted indifferent and neglectful behind closed doors, would go out and boast about their supposed charity to the public.

I had hated it. I couldn't stand it.

So, I ran away.

Sure, maybe she was different.

But the scar carved deep into my heart still ached, refusing to accept it.

"I see... well, I can’t exactly force you to come. But if you change your mind, let this old man know."

Red didn’t seem intent on dragging me there by force.

Whew. Good.

I hated orphanages.

But more than that, if I spent too much time around her, the chances of my identity being exposed would only increase.

I couldn’t afford to stay near her.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"You’re heading home now, right? After what just happened, I’ll walk you back. That okay with you, old man?"

"Go ahead."

The shopkeeper nodded.

But I shook my head firmly in refusal.

"Are you sure? You really don’t have to be so stubborn about it."

I kept shaking my head.

Even though I insisted I was fine,

She kept asking.

Maybe she thought it was dangerous to let a child go home alone after everything that had just happened.

But I kept refusing.

Eventually, Red gave in, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ raising her hands in surrender.

"If you hate the idea that much, fine. Just don’t go getting yourself caught up in another mess like this. Get home quick."

I bowed my head slightly in farewell,

Hugged my neatly wrapped desserts close,

And started walking away.

Then, Red called out, making me pause.

I turned back to look at her.

She was smiling faintly, waving a hand at me.

"Thanks for saving the old man, kid. Get home safe. Let’s meet again sometime."

"And next time you come, I’ll have plenty of your favorites ready for you, so be sure to drop by!"

I raised my hand high and waved back energetically.

Then, I turned around and walked away.

I really hope this isn’t going to be a recurring problem.

First, thugs.

Now, religious fanatics.

This wasn’t just simple retaliation.

What exactly were they after? What was really going on?

I stopped in my tracks and turned my head,

Gazing up at the gloomy, overcast sky for a moment.

Then, I started walking again, heading back to my hideout.

Hehe. I should decide what to eat first when I get back.

*

After the kid disappeared,

Red pulled a cigarette from her coat pocket and placed it between her lips.

She lit the tip, took a deep drag,

And exhaled, releasing a thick cloud of smoke.

A strange kid.

At first, she had thought they were just another ordinary street brat.

But after seeing how they blocked that bullet of light, she changed her mind.

Even a skilled fixer would struggle to pull off that kind of stunt.

That wasn’t something that could happen by accident.

It required experience. It required skill.

There was no way an ordinary kid could do that.

Which meant—

They had been through a lot.

They had shouldered more than their share of burdens.

It would’ve been nice if they had come along.

In this world, people who do good are treated like freaks.

So, some whisper that her actions were nothing more than self-satisfaction, a way to feed her own sense of superiority.

Maybe they’re right.

She wasn’t some storybook hero, pure and selfless.

She simply didn’t want to see kids die meaninglessly in the streets.

That was all.

It was still selfish in its own way.

So no, it wasn’t pure goodwill.

That was why she ran an orphanage that trained children—

Teaching them how to survive in this city.

That was why she extended an offer to every child she met.

This time was no different.

Most of them refused.

Most of them didn’t trust people.

And this kid was no exception.

They acted like a child, but I could tell they were wary.

It was a habit—

A survival instinct born from knowing that trusting adults could mean death.

It was... a bitter sight to see.

Maybe it was the cigarette, but she felt even more bitter than usual.

Still... I have a feeling I’ll see that kid again.

Red cast a cold glance at the bodies strewn across the ground.

Then, she looked up at the dreary sky.

The cigarette burned slowly between her fingers.

*

A room, pristine and furnished with expensive furniture.

There, a man poured wine into a glass.

He took the filled glass, sat back into a luxurious chair,

And let the plush cushions embrace him.

As he channeled magic into the glass, a thin layer of frost formed over the surface.

He took a slow sip,

Feeling the chilled liquid slide down his throat,

Savoring the taste with a quiet sigh.

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"Haaah."

At that moment, someone approached him.

A figure wearing a skull mask, gripping a spear in their right hand.

"Isaac, I sent the believers, just like you ordered. So? Did you confirm it?"

"No issues. Just as I expected."

The masked figure slammed the butt of their spear against the floor.

"If you lied to us, we will never forgive you. Remember that."

"Come on, don’t be like that. Haven’t we been working together long enough for you to trust me by now?"

The figure scoffed, turning away.

"All of this is for the Reaper’s complete descent into this world."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

The figure left.

Isaac swirled the wine in his glass, staring at his reflection with a smile.

Hah. ‘For the Reaper,’ you say?

Sorry, but unlike you fools, I move for a greater cause. So I’ll just keep using you a little longer.

He had merely thrown them a scrap of information—

And they had latched onto it without question.

Pathetic.

It was almost laughable.

Taking another sip, Isaac let out a quiet chuckle.

Then, his mind wandered to the events of today.

A coincidence? Or deliberate?

Up in the sky, he had been watching through an ice bird he had created.

But—

A bullet of light had been deflected, shooting straight up and hitting the bird.

It had severed his vision.

Well, it doesn’t really matter.

My plan is progressing smoothly. There’s no way it’ll fail.

Finishing the rest of his wine, he uttered a single command.

"Status Window."