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Enough with Dying as an Extra Chapter 12

* * *

I stared at the spot Haen had just vacated before lowering my head.

My hand stung.

When I looked down, I saw blood dripping from a fresh scratch on the back of my hand—courtesy of the child’s nails.

Examining the wound, I slowly removed the hand that had been covering his ears.

I sensed my master’s presence just outside the door.

Without bothering to rise from my seat, I called out loudly.

“Asis! Sorry, but can you wait outside for a bit?”

Hearing a response from beyond the door, I turned my attention back to the child, who wasted no time in trying to hit me again with his small, pale fists.

I caught his hands easily.

Then, securing his thin wrists and waist so he couldn’t move, I asked in the gentlest voice possible,

“Hey, kid. What’s your name?”

“Let go! Let me go!”

“I’ll let go if you tell me your name.”

The child glared at me with an exasperated look but didn’t stop struggling.

Twisting his body in an attempt to escape, he let out small grunts of effort.

Watching his relentless resistance, I asked again,

“Come on, tell me your name. You probably hate me calling you ‘kid’ all the time, right?”

“You insane bastard! Put me down this instant!”

“I’ll let go if you tell me your name.”

The child stared at me in disbelief.

And so, we repeated the same exchange—him hitting me, me asking his name—over and over for about thirty minutes.

Eventually, resignation settled into his stormy gray eyes, tinged with a hint of blue.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll say it, okay?!”

His voice was thick with irritation.

Keeping my promise, I let him go immediately.

The moment I did, he bolted toward the door.

As expected, he tried to run.

But instead of reacting with surprise, I simply let out a dry chuckle.

Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, I flicked my fingers.

In an instant, he was back on my lap.

His eyes widened in shock.

His already large eyes grew even bigger—perhaps because he was still young.

Rather than amusing, it was… endearing.

“W-What the…?”

“I’m a mage.”

Which means catching one runaway kid is hardly a challenge.

As I spoke, I rolled up my sleeve.

Blood had smeared across my shirt from the wound on my wrist, staining the fabric.

I grabbed a handkerchief and carefully wiped the crimson streaks from my pale skin.

The child, seemingly having lost all will to resist, sat in a daze, making no move to climb down from my lap.

He was still sitting there, silent, when he muttered,

“…Sia.”

“Sia?”

“My name! I’m telling you my name!”

The child—Sia—bared his sharp little canines as he snapped at me.

Then, with a small hop, he jumped down from my lap, his body trembling.

“Why are you so damn persistent?!”

“Sia… You’re just as stubborn as I am.”

“Hmph!”

Scoffing, Sia strode toward the window.

As I watched his retreating figure, I absentmindedly traced my lips with a finger.

I know this boy.

I saw him in my dreams.

A slave boy, abused by Letiyan… who would one day grow into the great villain standing in the protagonist’s way—Hesia.

I had my suspicions, but hearing his name confirmed it.

In the original story, before he became Hesia, he was once called Sia during his time as a slave.

It seems Letiyan’s death placed Sia directly in my hands.

‘Being bound by the original story was annoying, but getting firsthand information like this? I don’t mind it at all.’

I pressed the already blood-soaked handkerchief to my still-bleeding hand and sighed.

Of course, agreeing to take in the future villain wasn’t something I had done blindly just because Haen suggested it.

It’s just… no matter what he becomes in the future, right now, he’s a child who needs protection.

Even if I doubt I’m the best person to provide that, it’s still better than nothing.

I watched the slender silhouette standing by the window before finally rising to my feet.

When I opened the door, my master was leaning against the hallway wall.

“Asis.”

“Yes, Lord Vivisian. Is the conversation over—oh, your hand…!”

“This? Don’t worry about it. More importantly, the kid needs a bath. Have someone prepare the tub.”

“In your bathroom…?”

“Where else would he bathe?”

“The guest room…?”

“He’s going to be staying with me anyway. Moving rooms constantly will only make him anxious. Just prepare the bath in my room. Oh, and ask the kitchen to prepare some food for him, too.”

After issuing my orders, I shut the door and turned back inside.

Sia, having overheard my conversation, was staring at me with wariness written all over his face.

“You’re not going to bathe me, are you?”

“Of course not. You’ll take a bath, then eat, then sleep. That’s all.”

“Liar! I don’t believe you!”

“If you’re not going to believe me, why ask in the first place…?”

I rubbed my temples, exasperated.

Still, I couldn’t blame him for his suspicion.

Despite the fine clothes he wore, he was scruffy—proof of the hardships he had endured.

I scanned him up and down before clicking my tongue.

“So you’re really planning to stay like this? Filthy enough that people might think you rolled around in the dirt?”

“I’ll stay like this! I don’t need a bath! Being dirty won’t kill me!”

“…Good grief. Did I end up with a stray kitten instead of a child?”

Why does he hate washing so much…?

I muttered in frustration just as I heard the master’s voice from outside, saying that the water had been prepared.

At that moment, Sia and I locked eyes.

Realizing what I was thinking, Sia scrambled under the desk.

The servants cleaned daily, so there probably wasn’t much dust, but that didn’t mean it was actually clean.

“This isn’t going to be easy…”

Sighing under my breath, I lowered myself.

As I got closer, the kid tried to escape again, but I reached out.

I thought I saw his eyes flash in the darkness, and then—

A burning pain shot through my arm.

“Ah.”

Something hot trickled down.

I didn’t even have to look to know—I was bleeding.

Instead of checking the wound, I extended my arm further toward Sia.

His eyes flicked to the blood running down my skin, and in that brief hesitation, I grabbed him and pulled him out.

He wasn’t in great shape, and it had been a long time since he’d been properly taken care of.

If I used any more of my abilities, there was a good chance there’d be side effects.

Ignoring the kid flailing in my grip, I stretched my senses down the hallway.

Once I confirmed there was no one around, I tucked Sia under my arm and left the office, heading straight for the bedroom.

The moment we got there, before he could resist, I stripped him and shoved him into the bathtub.

The second the water touched his skin, he jumped like a cat with its tail stepped on.

I pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit.

“You’re covered in cuts. If you stay filthy like this, you could get an infection. Do you want to get sick?”

“I can! I can wash myself!”

His hands, which had been flailing wildly, were a mess.

His fingertips were cracked and soft, his nails broken—it hurt just to look at them.

You? I gave him a look, and Sia clamped his mouth shut, glaring at me.

“I’ll be quick.”

“……”

“I promise.”

I realized I’d been too forceful.

Softening my gaze, I spoke gently to calm him.

He pressed his painted lips together—probably the work of the slave traders—and turned his head away with a pout.

Taking that as reluctant permission, I washed him as quickly as I could.

Six times, he bit my fingers, furious that soap got into his eyes—his own fault for not closing them.

Ten times, he shook his head like a wet dog, drenching me in the process.

Eight times, I had to drag him back when he tried to escape, convinced we were done.

And about twenty times, he glared at me so intensely I thought he was trying to burn a hole through my face.

By the time we were done, I was soaked too.

I couldn’t just leave him naked, so I dried him off and dressed him in clothes the servants had prepared.

They were mine from when I was younger, a little too big for him now.

A ribbon had been left among the garments—probably in case this exact situation happened—so I tied it around his waist like a belt to keep his pants up.

He sat there, his pretty face covered in sulky discontent.

I let out a small chuckle and crossed my arms.

“Anywhere hurt?”

“Do you think?”

“Well, judging by how hard you hit, I doubt it.”

Muttering to myself, I bent slightly to meet his gaze.

His sharp, wary blue-gray eyes followed my every move.

They were striking—so clear and shimmering with light, they had an oddly calming effect.

Holding his gaze, I finally said what I had intended to from the beginning.

“Don’t worry, Sia. I’m not planning to keep you forever.”

“…What?”

“I’ll look into your family. If any relatives are alive, I’ll send you to them. You’ll only stay with me until then.”

Until the day he became Hesia—the shadowed figure behind the scenes in the original story, a high-ranking noble of the Merien Principality.

His family hadn’t been revealed in the story, but with the master’s help, I could find out.

And if that didn’t work, I’d arrange for him to be adopted into a good household.

Hearing my words, Sia answered bluntly, “My mom and dad are dead. I don’t have a family.”

“But your parents had parents too, right? Did they say your grandparents were gone too?”

“…No.”

“Then there’s still a chance. It’d be better for you to be with blood relatives than with a complete stranger like me.”

My matter-of-fact tone made him frown, as if he couldn’t understand why I was doing all this for him.

But the reason was simple.

Sia was young, powerless, and vulnerable.

If I didn’t help him, who would?

I had been abandoned before—I couldn’t bring myself to throw away a child who had fallen into my hands.

But I knew better than to say that out loud.

The last thing he needed was to be reminded of his own helplessness.

“I can’t promise to be your family, Sia. And I can’t promise to protect you forever.”

“……”

“But I can promise to find your family. I’ll make sure you have one.”

I whispered those words softly.

Sia didn’t respond.

* * *

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Comment

  1. ruruexodus says:

    He is so good, I cry for him.

  2. YOURSALVATION says:

    I FEEELL SADDDDD AHHHHHHH

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