When the Female Lead Went Off-Script, the Main Male Lead Became the Tyrant's Empress - Chapter 8.1
“Urgh!”
Before he could dodge, the fireplace poker swung through the bars.
It struck him in the shoulder, and he screamed as he collapsed.
“Die! Die! Die!”
Arthur curled up, unable to flee because of the excruciating pain.
Clary indiscriminately struck the screaming middle-aged man’s arms, chest, side, and legs.
A violently intense rush of tension and adrenaline exploded throughout her entire body.
This was it.
This was exactly it!
Just as she was about to finish by bringing the poker down hard on his head, a hand suddenly shot out and seized her arm with immense strength.
“Stop. You’ll kill him at this rate.”
“Why shouldn’t I kill him!”
The man had already been sentenced to death anyway.
In addition to abuse and imprisonment, he had been found guilty of breach of trust and embezzlement, fraud, solicitation of murder, and human trafficking.
Why should she protect the human rights of a bastard worse than a beast?
Haster shook his head.
“There are still many charges remaining. Even a condemned prisoner cannot be arbitrarily killed before the date of his execution. And it will cause trouble if this man dies.”
“Because his death would cause problems with the trial?”
“It would cause problems for you.”
Clary faltered at the unexpected answer.
“Even for a member of the imperial family, murder is an obvious crime. If you do such a thing, you will also be imprisoned. There will even be some, however few, who sympathize with him once he is dead.”
“Who would sympathize with a vicious criminal!”
“Just as not everyone is on your side, not everyone will become your uncle’s enemy.”
Clary’s expression, which had been sharpened to a vicious edge, crumbled into despair.
“Don’t worry. This man will die in disgrace.”
Those who had nothing but their noble status to boast of hated losing face more than they hated death.
He would be dragged all the way to the execution grounds while being mocked and cursed by the commoners he had always looked down upon.
They were the sort who believed that humiliation tarnishing their honor was more painful than stones striking their bodies.
Arthur Lurie was still lying on his side.
The sight of him curled tightly into himself and groaning in pain resembled a maggot doused in poison.
When the slender arm in Haster’s grasp went limp, he released it.
He sensed someone approaching from the direction of the stairs.
The jailer seemed to have come running after hearing the commotion.
The jailer wavered between obeying his orders and upholding his professional duty, and Haster gave him a brief command.
“Send a physician to the prisoner.”
The quick-witted jailer obeyed without protest.
Clary and Haster took the opportunity to leave the tower.
He walked a fixed distance behind Clary, who strode ahead with her lips tightly pressed together.
She crossed the lawn at a brisk pace without once looking back, then stopped abruptly without warning.
“What kind of world is this? Is helping and sympathizing with a kid really so unfair and difficult? Will people get struck by lightning and die if they leave alone someone who says no and stop tormenting someone pitiful?”
“…….”
“I hate the phrase ‘what goes around comes around’ more than anything. They say people who do bad things are punished, but their punishment is light compared to what good people suffer. The people who defend villains by saying they must have their own tragic circumstances are accomplices too. Why is everyone so desperate to torment a single person!”
She violently hurled the fireplace poker, and it struck the ground.
She missed her mother.
She missed her father.
She even missed her annoying older brother.
Imperial family or nobility, none of it mattered. She wanted to go home.
But she was already dead, and this place was now her reality.
She truly hated this world.
Even when she had been Nam Eunjeong, she had thought for various reasons that she hated reality and wished the world would end.
But she hated a world with only one road, and that road led straight to despair, even more.
No matter how far she strayed from the original story, the ending would be misery.
The kindness shown by the original Clary had always returned as harm, and there had been no good people.
The worst among them was the man standing before her now.
Yet she didn’t know why she didn’t dislike the arms embracing her, or why she didn’t want to push away the hand patting her back.
At the clumsy but gentle touch, Clary wailed loudly like a child.
All the sorrow she had forcibly suppressed burst out.
Perhaps she had been so exhausted that she desperately longed for even hypocrisy.
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