Marvin, the fat man with those strange purple hairs, picked up one of the containers. A sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips. Astia saw nothing but a plain shimmer inside the jar, yet she knew there was something more. Yes… a real diamond was glowing in there. Marvin had cast his magic on the glass; the kind of trick his noble customers were willing to pay heavy bags of coins for.

Astia pressed her lips together. He thinks I’m just a kid. But I know… they’re all diamonds, not just glass.

She let out a slow breath. Where does he even get them? The Empire’s mines? Impossible…

Marvin strutted toward the door to the basement. His customers were waiting down there—men in long cloaks, their faces hidden. Packages of what looked like crystal cups changed hands, but Astia knew something else was hidden inside.

To keep suspicions away, Marvin always threw her at the floor—rough brushes, small hands, and the constant scraping sound across the tiles. A perfect excuse to keep a child busy while the grown-ups traded freely.

Astia’s eyes would occasionally drift toward the prepared packages stacked by the table. Curiosity pricked at her heart like a thorn. One day I’ll find out what’s really going on…

A few minutes later, Marvin came back upstairs, cheerful now and heavy with bags of coins. He dropped onto the couch, spilled the bags onto the table, and started counting. Astia paused for a second, but Marvin’s sharp gaze forced her to drag the brush across the floor again.

The only sound in the room was the gentle scrape of the brush.

Suddenly Marvin tossed a few wing-marked coins at her feet.

“Today I’m in a good mood. You get extra pay. When you’re done, go home, kiddo.”

Astia bent down and picked them up. The cold metal trembled against her palm. She said nothing, just gave a small bow and went back to work. When everything was finished, she put the tools away and slipped out quietly. Before leaving, she cast one quick glance at Marvin and said goodbye. He only nodded, still lost in his coins.

The air outside carried the smell of old rain. Astia jumped over a puddle with her black leather boots and glanced up at the sky. Her breath had grown heavy. Cold water was still dripping down her hair—memories of that damned bucket. She clenched her fists and struck the air. If only I could really punch you in the face, Marvin.

“Hey, half-demon!”

Astia froze at the shout, then turned toward the voice. She knew exactly who it was meant for—though there wasn’t anyone else it could be anyway. Under her breath, she muttered, “Alex… ugh…”

She turned to face him. Every neighborhood had its bunch of idle bullies, always shaking down weaker kids for coins—and if they refused, four fists rained down on them.

“Come here.”

To Astia, the scene was a ridiculous joke. She smiled, drew in a deep breath, and walked toward the boy with that calm, confident air of hers.

Veins throbbed on Alex’s forehead as he grabbed her and shoved her against the wall. His hot breath brushed her face.

“Forgot your money, little girl?”

Astia placed her hand on his shoulder and coolly pushed him back.

“Hah… I don’t believe this!!”

Alex and the three others exchanged glances. This was something new. The old Astia would never have acted this way, never even spoken back. What none of them knew was that standing before them wasn’t the same Astia as before—it was an adult in her place.

Four stunned stares, and then the glint of blades. Knives slipped from their pockets, light flashing along the metal as it hit Astia’s eyes. She stepped back a few paces until she neared the end of the alley.

“Where do you think you’re running?” Alex’s laughter echoed between the walls.

Astia slammed her boots against the ground, bouncing on her feet. The cold air burned in her lungs.

“Who said I was running?”

Her smile had turned feral now, and her eyes blazed. Then she shot forward like an arrow loosed from the bow.

Moments later, four bodies lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious. Astia stood above them, sweat on her brow, a crooked grin tugging at her lips as she clapped her hands together, brushing off the dust. This is just the beginning.

Her chest rose and fell, but her heart felt lighter. She smiled and walked out of the alley in high spirits. For her, this was a real step forward—defeating the very boys who had always haunted her bitter memories.

Only a few days had passed since her return to the past, and so far she had done nothing but sink again into the same simple life she’d lived before her mother’s death.

But her stillness wasn’t without reason. There was a law: “Whatever you know of the future, you must never interfere with it directly.”

The meaning was clear. Maybe she could stop her mother’s death, but if she did, fate might twist and take her in another way.

She couldn’t risk it. That law was like a chain on her ankles—heavy, suffocating, but necessary.

It was hard for Astia. She had fought with herself countless times just to accept it, just to endure. And even now, though she had managed to accept it a little, her heart still burned. Seeing her mother each day, knowing the countdown on her life had already begun—it was torture.

Monica was standing by the clothesline when a shadow fell across her. She turned. Astia was coming toward her with her light, quick steps.

“Oh, sweetheart… I was starting to worry.”

Astia ran up, shaking her fistful of coins in front of her mother’s eyes. “Look, Mom! I got more today.”

Monica smiled, but her gaze froze on the coins. The image of her daughter burning with fever flashed in her mind, and her chest tightened.

Astia caught the look, forced a laugh, and tugged her mother’s hand. “Haha… Mom, come on, let’s eat.”

---

The smell of Monica’s simple stew filled the table. The clink of spoon and fork was the only sound breaking the silence of the house. Astia took a few bites, then slowly raised her head.

“Mom… can I go to the Imperial Capital tomorrow?”

Monica set her spoon down. “The capital? What for?”

Astia paused for a moment, then smiled. “I want to buy something.”

Monica frowned. “What? Isn’t it here?”

Astia said nothing—she only smiled.

Monica sighed. “Alright… but are you sure you want to go alone? It’s dangerous.”

Astia nodded firmly. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll take care of myself.”

Her mother’s eyes lingered on her. After a moment of silence, Monica lowered her head and gave in.