Infinite Mage [Remake]-Chapter 115: A Shadow of the Past

Charming and witty, yet possessing a cautious nature that refrains from judging others hastily. Why would someone like that resort to petty theft?

Judging by how she casually tossed a tip to the bartender, money didn't seem to be an issue for her.

"Um... I'm not sure if I should ask this, but my curiosity is getting the better of me."

Marsha leaned back in her chair.

"Whew, I was wondering when you'd finally ask. But Shirone, a woman's three sizes aren't something you hear about; they're something you find out with your own eyes."

"No! That's not what I meant! Why did you steal the porcelain?"

"Huh?"

"You don't seem like someone who would do something like that. And you lied about not having money. It wasn't even something particularly useful, so why steal it?"

"Hmm."

Marsha rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought.

"I just... felt like stealing it."

"What? Is that even possible?"

"Of course. It's called kleptomania. A chronic impulse, though it wasn't always like this. I was an orphan. My parents abandoned me when I was four. A mercenary took me in and raised me, becoming my foster father."

Shirone, who had also been abandoned by his biological parents, couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with her story.

"Life was far from comfortable. The mercenary group was a den of strange people. When I was eleven, one of the most notorious brutes in the group tried to lay his hands on me. Thankfully, my foster father found out first and beat him to a pulp."

"That's only natural. Any parent would do the same."

Marsha chuckled bitterly.

"Would they really?"

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"Huh?"

A flicker of sadness passed through her eyes.

"After that day, my foster father changed. The only thing he gave me daily was a loaf of bread and water. No clothes, no sweets, no accessories—nothing. One day, I was caught stealing an apple, and he came and paid for it without a word."

Shirone frowned deeply.

"That's awful. If he was going to pay for it, he might as well have bought it for you in the first place. Did you ever ask him for anything?"

"Not once."

"Why not?"

"...It's hard to explain, but it was like a silent battle of wills. My foster father wanted my complete submission, but I couldn't give it to him. My only form of resistance was stealing. Every time I did, he would compensate for it and then take something else from me when we got home. It became a cycle. One day, the despair grew so overwhelming that I gave up on everything and told him..."

Marsha gazed up at the ceiling.

"You can kill me if you want."

Shirone felt a heavy weight settle in his chest.

"I can still remember the look on his face. From that day on, those words became my shield. Every time I was caught stealing, I'd say it again. 'You can kill me if you want.' And he'd storm out in anger. That was how I lived. When I was twelve, thirteen... until I finally left home at seventeen."

"That's around my age now."

"By that time, I understood. I used to think he was just insane, but in truth, my foster father was weak. Torn between his conscience as a guardian and his own twisted desires, he was paralyzed by indecision. And so, he tormented me instead."

Shirone fell silent, finally understanding the nature of her struggle.

"He was pathetic. If he had made a choice—any choice—things wouldn't have gotten so messy. But he lacked the courage to cross the line and the willpower to stay behind it. Do you know what people like that choose? Hypocrisy. It's just a coward's excuse. While he was trapped in his own internal struggle, my sanity was slowly slipping away. I didn't know how to treat him anymore. It was suffocating."

Shirone had no words to offer.

"Eventually, I started carrying a knife wherever I went. As I grew older, his obsession worsened. My life felt meaningless, so I finally said it. 'You can embrace me if you want.'"

"...What happened?"

"Hah. Funny thing is, stories like mine don't have dramatic twists. I had to use the knife I'd hidden away. I stabbed him in the throat. And to be honest... I felt nothing. After that, I left home, drifted through the world, and eventually ended up here."

"I see..."

Sensing the atmosphere becoming too heavy, Marsha forced a grin.

"But it's fine! I get by. The problem is, I can't seem to shake this compulsion to steal. It's gotten me into trouble more times than I can count. Ugh."

Shirone remained silent. He had no right to judge her life.

At that moment, the bartender emerged from a back room. Though Shirone didn't know the exact workings of the place, it seemed to be a hub for gathering information.

"The alert on Gamos has been lifted. Looks like he found a woman he likes and is throwing a party at his estate."

Shirone sighed in relief.

"Good thing we weren't too late."

"Hmph, what, were you that eager to leave me?"

"Haha! Of course not. It's just that my friends are waiting."

In truth, Shirone felt the same reluctance. Despite their different upbringings, talking to someone who understood was always comforting.

"I'm sure we'll meet again."

"Of course. Unless you plan on escaping in the middle of the ocean? Drop by if you're bored. I'll be around for a while."

That was reassuring.

"Alright. I'll see you around."

After Shirone left, Marsha ordered a strong drink with a relaxed expression. Just as she expected, two men who had been eyeing her finally approached.

"The brat's gone, huh? We lost money waiting for him. Our tab got bigger."

Marsha didn't even turn her head.

"Scram. Unless you want to die."

"Feisty, aren't you? We were being polite, but do you even know who we are?"

Marsha sighed in annoyance before smirking at them.

"Fine, let's go to a room. But do you think just the two of you can handle me? Why not bring more?"

"What?!"

"Ten? No, bring twenty. I'll play with you all night. But I'm warning you—I hate being interrupted. So don't disappoint me."

The men immediately lost their enthusiasm.

"The hell? She's insane. Let's go."

"Damn, what bad luck."

As they walked away, Marsha sneered before turning back. Her drink had arrived. As she downed it in one gulp, the burn in her throat reminded her she was still alive.

"Ahh, now that's alcohol. Bartender, another round."

The bartender, instead of simply pouring the drink, approached her himself.

"...So you're that Marsha."

Marsha smirked.

"Well, are there any other Marsha's?"

"I heard the Magic Association has a bounty on you. You've done well to stay hidden. Are you here for good?"

"No, I'll be leaving soon. Just have some unfinished business on this island."

The bartender wiped a glass clean, then spoke in a low voice.

"You're not what the rumors say. I saw what you did for that boy. You even lied for him."

"...He helped me first."

"Helped?"

"That kid offered to go with me to the guards. Can you believe it? Ah, it's exhausting being this attractive... though, maybe that wasn't the only reason."

The bartender chuckled.

"He's a good kid."

"Yeah... he is."