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... with a single hand.

What met him was chaos.

The horizon beyond the west wall was painted red—fire, blood, and a sea of corrupted beasts

snarling in unison. Orcs with glowing crimson eyes and bulging veins sprinted toward the

barrier, wielding rusted axes and jagged bone spears. Their guttural bellows shook the very

stones of the city wall.

Ogres crashed through wooden barricades like living battering rams, their mutated muscles

pulsing and ...

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A drop of ink can penetrate the walls, even the walls you took too long to build.

After losing her first love due to a traffic accident, Ibuki Sumire transfers to Tokyo. She wanted to escape, to run away from everything that happened. To start over in a place that didn't have him. But a series of clues lead her to investigating the case behind the accident.

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There she meets him, the person who helps her move forward. But Sumire quickly learns how alike they are. His cold personality is different than the kindness she is used to. However, he is the only one who understands her feelings.

It keeps going around in circles, like a drop of paint. Round and round - an endless stream of pain and lies. But, that stream ended the moment she laid her eyes on his paintings.

Such rich and vibrant colors, it felt like his emotions exploded. Yet, in the corner of his studio, she found it. The real him, a sakura painting of two people walking hand in hand.

A gentle and sweet feeling, something she has never felt before.

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There is no rebirth through time, and there is no system of heaven to cut melons and vegetables;

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---

Synopsis:

I transmigrated into a novel that I read years ago as the second Prince of the Chrono Empire and was fated to be killed by my half-brother, the First Prince at the age of 12.

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Am I the villain?

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