The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch - Chapter 20

Ciel walked step by step out of the alley, leaving behind two corpses staged as a “mutual killing.”

Her shadow lazily stretched out behind her, as if being dragged along. It wriggled occasionally, meticulously erasing the footprints Ciel left behind in a diligent, almost obsessive manner.

“Where’s that Eddie kid?!”

“Paul! Paul! Damn it!”

Solari’s furious voice echoed from the street outside. Beside him, Thomas wore his usual skeletal expression, though his gaunt face also showed confusion.

Neither of them noticed the petite figure leaning against the entrance to the rain-soaked alley.

The black shadow rose from Ciel’s silhouette, standing behind her. It reached out a hand to accept the revolver that Ciel passed back to it.

Dong—

The deep, resonant chime of the Savior Goddess Church’s clock tower rang out, a solemn sound signaling rest for the workers and eternal sleep for evildoers.

“Thomas… damn it!”

Solari, leader of the Blackwater Gang, caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. He spun around abruptly, glaring at the black-robed man next to him and drawing his revolver from his waist. “Thomas! What the hell are you doing?!”

“Huh?” Thomas turned toward Solari, confusion etched on his face.

He didn’t notice the revolver floating silently behind him, aimed directly at Solari’s panicked visage.

“I gave you so much money, killed so many people for you, and now you’re screwing me over?!”

Bang, bang, bang!

Three gunshots rang out in sync with the tolling of the bell. Thomas, the black-robed man, looked at Solari in disbelief, as if unable to fathom how things had escalated to this point.

He staggered backward, clutching his chest, and collapsed into a seated position. Only then did he see the floating revolver and the faint, terrifying black shadow holding it.

“N-no… it wasn’t me…”

Bang!

The shadow pulled the trigger, and a bullet pierced Solari’s lungs.

Bang, bang!

Solari, writhing in pain, fired the last two bullets in his revolver. At the same time, the floating revolver also discharged its final two rounds.

Bang, bang!

Solari wavered before collapsing backward.

Through Thomas’s blurry vision, he saw the shadow holding the revolver crouch down before him.

“Your Excellency… ugh…” Thomas tried to speak, but black blood mixed with fragments of his internal organs spilled from his mouth. He could only watch as the shadow grabbed his right hand, placed the revolver into it, and adjusted his grip to make it look like he was holding the weapon.

Why…

Thomas’s consciousness began to fade. The whispers in his mind grew louder, and the flesh on his face started to writhe uncontrollably.

A thin tendril emerged from the barrel of the revolver, falling to the ground and emitting a faint, mystical glow invisible to most.

Thomas died never knowing who had killed him or what kind of enemy he had provoked.

He would never have guessed that his downfall was orchestrated by a girl in a nearby house—someone he had deemed “harmless” and “too insignificant for anyone to care about if she died.”

“It’s done…” A smile spread across Ciel’s face beneath her mask, and an unfamiliar sensation welled up within her.

So this is the power of transcendence?

Ordinary people don’t even know how they die in my presence.

Even a quasi-transcendent like Thomas couldn’t perceive my actions.

He had brought plenty of henchmen with him. Maybe I should kill a few more!

The abrupt thought surfaced in Ciel’s mind, but it was swiftly suppressed by 【Calm Mind Lv.1】.

She could hear a faint hum in her ears, a sound growing more rhythmic as the blood spreading across the ground stimulated some unseen force.

What is… that sound?

The surreal murmurs made Ciel’s head throb. She quickly realized she shouldn’t linger here any longer.

The thrill of killing exhilarated her, and the agitation from drinking the potion seemed increasingly difficult to suppress, like a volcano on the verge of erupting. Yet she had no idea how to quell it.

She turned and stepped over the two corpses, hastening toward the other end of the alley.

Her shadow followed closely, erasing footprints as it went. Occasionally, it seemed to shout silently, as if telling her to wait.

Emerging from the alley on the other side, the humming in Ciel’s ears subsided slightly, and the whispers in her mind grew fainter.

She quickly unpinned the church insignia from her chest and discarded her mask. The shadow caught the mask and wore it over its face, while it swallowed the insignia whole. After completing this, it leapt like a diver and merged back into Ciel’s shadow.

From here on, Ciel only needed to wait for the situation to unfold. She just had to survive these 24 hours and see if any trouble came her way.

For now, though, she decided to head to the café in the city center. Lichie was probably growing impatient waiting for her.

…

“I’m telling you, if you don’t kick that freak out, I’ll never come here for coffee again.”

A rotund, heavily made-up woman was berating a male server, pointing a sausage-like finger toward a corner of the café.

In the corner, a girl sat with her head lowered, looking uncomfortable. Her hands clutched the coarse fabric of her linen dress tightly, her ears flushed red. In front of her were two untouched cups of coffee, both long cold.

This was an old-style café located in the city center, having been open for nearly a century. Though its popularity had waned in recent years due to the rise of tea houses and taverns, it still attracted a fair number of middle-class and upper-class patrons.

“Madam Plen… there are other available seats,” the nervous young server stammered, sweat streaming down his face. “That lady has already paid for her seat. She’s allowed to sit wherever…”

It was his first day on the job, and encountering such a difficult customer had him already considering quitting.

“Can you drink anything with that freakish face staring at you?” Madam Plen spat venomously. “This is a classy place, not some freak show!”

The girl in the corner trembled, sensing the disdainful gazes from the well-dressed patrons around her. She hastily picked up the cup in front of her, took a sip, and immediately choked on the bitter coffee, coughing loudly.

A single tear slid down her cheek, adding a salty note to the already bitter drink.

Ding-ling-ling—

The café door swung open, and a figure in a black robe stepped inside.

“Move aside, you pig.”

A pleasant yet biting voice rang out. The words were crude, yet the voice carried an elegance that painted an image of a proud, beautiful girl delivering a sharp rebuke. Many patrons turned their attention toward the door.

“What did you say?!” Madam Plen’s face scrunched up in indignation as she whirled around. She was met by the sight of an exceptionally beautiful girl with fiery red, wavy shoulder-length hair, draped in a robe that exuded mystery and elegance. For a moment, Plen forgot what she was about to say.

It was a face so stunning it left no room for envy.

“Say that again?!” Madam Plen shuffled her body closer to the girl, but soon, her pupils narrowed slightly.

She seemed to recognize the silver embroidery on the girl’s robe.

The girl’s age, combined with her unparalleled beauty—rare even among nobles—and those silver patterns… her noble status seemed self-evident.

“Y-Your Excellency… I-I… I’ve been rude.”

The once domineering Madam Plen was now stammering, her voice trembling. She sidled past the red-haired girl, careful not to touch her, and hurried out the door, leaving her umbrella behind in her haste.

Ding-ling-ling—

The bell jingled as the door closed behind her. The red-haired girl scanned the café, prompting its patrons to avert their eyes or hide behind their newspapers, pretending nothing had happened.

Soon, the girl’s gaze settled on a specific spot. She walked briskly to the corner, her voice softening as she spoke.

“Sorry, sister. I’m late.”

A big shot… with her sister…

Good thing I didn’t pick a fight…

Why didn’t I step in to help earlier…

So that’s why she has scars—she’s from that church…

Among the other patrons, some sighed with relief, some regretted their inaction, and others began preparing their lines, eager to approach and strike up a conversation.