People dismiss the protagonist’s maturity as nothing more than the author’s fabrication, but Roxy had truly envied her.

However, after becoming that protagonist herself, she finally understood.

Maturity beyond one’s years came hand-in-hand with pain, and this life demanded that very kind of premature maturity.

This life and existence were filled with nothing but suffering and th*rny paths—

To the point she desperately wished to leave this damned life and world behind, by any means possible.

***

“A broken engagement? Ah, right. You proposed that ridiculous thing, didn’t you? Was it from that moment?”

A pathetic fiancé.

“In the end, even in death, you are my blood. You are of the Beauchêne bloodline, a direct descendant of Beauchêne who will be buried in Beauchêne.”

“My Roxanne, why are you looking at me with those eyes… Don’t look at me like that, please. It’s me, me. Roxanne, your brother. The one who loves you.”

A detestable family.

“I shall become your hunting trophy.”

Avoiding the male lead from the original story, who gave a puzzling smile along with incomprehensible words,

Roxy had made up her mind to return.

To her own world.

Not as Roxanne Beauchêne, but as Roxanne Chastain.

“I’m sure I told you clearly—you must have no lingering attachment to this life. Of all the countless divine trials you’ve been given, is there truly not a single one that has ensnared you?”

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