The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch - Chapter 60

“Uh… so you’re staying at her place to recover?”

“Yeah. I also arranged my sister’s job through her.”

“No wonder… When the factory owner suddenly told me I was getting promoted, I was shocked. But then I saw your letter, so I just followed along. This place is so relaxed, and the pay is ridiculously high… it almost feels unsettling…”

“It’s fine, Sis. Miss Avena wouldn’t care at all. She’s so rich she wouldn’t even bother bending down to pick up 100 su pounds if they fell on the ground.”

“…Little Ciel, be honest with me. Is Avena bullying you? Or is she…? I saw her this morning, and she seemed really… intimidating…”

Lichie sat on a chair, hesitating, unable to finish her sentence.

She didn’t know much about this noble lady named Avena, but from everything Ciel had just said, this sounded an awful lot like she had been… kept.

It was easy to be blind to one’s own situation, but an outsider could see things clearly. That Avena woman was definitely after Ciel!

“Ciel, what do you think of her?” Lichie asked hesitantly.

“How should I put it… Poker-faced, likes to hide her emotions, not much life experience,” Ciel recalled how Avena had injected herself and charged straight into battle just to ensure Sherlon didn’t escape. She added, “And a little kind.”

When Ciel looked up, she saw Lichie smiling at her in a comforting way.

“What?” Ciel reached up and touched her mask. “Is it too ugly?”

“It’s nothing.” Lichie chuckled and ruffled Ciel’s hair. “If she’s a good person, then keep getting along with her.”

Then, as if remembering something, Lichie added, “But you two are in completely different worlds. You can’t neglect your studies—you have to go to university, understand? If we start saving now, we can gather enough for your first semester.”

Ciel: “?”

Why did her sister’s words feel… off? She couldn’t quite put her finger on what was strange about them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save up too. When I leave for Ansu, I’ll take you with me.” Ciel continued, “We could open a flower shop or something. You’d be the manager, and I’d come help after class.”

Lichie’s hand, still resting on Ciel’s head, paused for a moment before she nodded. “Mm-hmm…”

The two of them chatted for nearly three hours, staying until the shop was about to close before Ciel left.

Lichie was currently living in the rooms above the jewelry store, so she didn’t even need to step outside to go home.

But since there was only one bed upstairs, and the mask was difficult to breathe in—making it impossible to sleep with it on—Ciel decided to return to Avena’s place to avoid spreading the infection.

On the way back, Ciel felt an overwhelming sense of relaxation.

It felt like peaceful, ordinary days were about to return.

But in order to protect this peace, she needed more power—to shield herself from future dangers, whenever they might arise.

After all, this wasn’t a peaceful world.

Back at the manor, Avena arranged a guest room for Ciel and even gave her a few sets of her own clothes.

After washing up, Ciel lay in bed, thinking about how she should approach Adele tomorrow.

With Adele’s mentor involved in such a massive incident, it was impossible that she wouldn’t be investigated. It was unlikely she would be available anytime soon.

Last night, after learning about Deton Manor’s nature, Ciel doubted that High Priestess Uris was a member there.

With no clear path forward, Ciel decided to sleep first. The next morning, she was abruptly woken by Avena, who urged her to change clothes.

After dressing and washing up, Ciel, still wearing her mask, accompanied Avena into a carriage.

They arrived at the bustling central district, where the carriage stopped in front of a refined building. A line of about a dozen people had already formed outside.

“Ciel, help me observe if I’m doing anything wrong later.” Avena glanced at the queue and visibly tensed. As they walked, she murmured, “These are patients referred by the Redemption Society.”

Ciel curiously studied the people waiting in line as she followed Avena into the building.

In this era, psychology wasn’t a common profession. Most people had little understanding of mental disorders, and many were visiting out of mere curiosity.

Because the consultation fee was only five pence—and because the doctor in question was a beautiful noble lady—many had eagerly lined up, intrigued by the novelty of it all.

Avena entered a spacious office, while Ciel sat at a small desk behind her, flipping through some notes on “psychologists” that Avena had given her.

Avena had already read through them. Now, it was time for her to put theory into practice.

As the first patient was led in by a nurse, Ciel perked up and listened carefully.

But as patient after patient came and went, her expression beneath the mask grew increasingly strange.

Patient A: “I think my husband left me because I’m too ugly…”

Avena: “No, you’re not ugly. You’re just…average.”

Patient B: “I’m never coming back to you as a therapist. How dare you tell me I need to lose weight!”

Avena: “Uh… based on your weight?”

Patient B: “Screw you! What kind of therapist calls their patient fat?!”

Avena: “One with functional eyesight.”

As patients stormed out one after another, Ciel finally lost her patience. She walked behind Avena, grabbed her white coat, and lifted her up.

“What?” Avena turned her head, looking at Ciel with innocent confusion. “I thought I was doing well.”

“No—you’re a psychologist. How are you managing to get every patient to walk out furious?” Ciel took a deep breath, sat in Avena’s chair, and said, “Watch. I’ll show you how a psychologist is supposed to behave.”

Avena stood up and expressionlessly sat in Ciel’s previous seat. Just before the next patient entered, she murmured, “I thought the point of therapy was to make patients better, not just to make them feel better…”

Knock, knock.

Avena’s quiet muttering was interrupted by a knock on the door. Ciel looked up at the visitor, a faint smile forming beneath her mask. She gestured toward the chair. “Please, have a seat.”

A middle-aged noblewoman, her makeup ruined from crying, sat down and began speaking.

“I feel awful… My husband goes out every night to visit prostitutes. Then he comes home and beats me… and then…”

“…Doctor, what can I do to feel better?”

Ciel took a deep breath, clenched her right fist tightly, and slowly spoke.

“If you don’t wipe those tears, pull yourself together, and file for divorce immediately, I’m going to hit you.”

“How could you say that?!”

Bang!

The woman stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Ciel silently stood up, grabbed Avena, and pulled her back into the seat.

Alright. She wasn’t suited to being a psychologist either.

But just as Avena, struggling to suppress laughter, sat back down, the nurse led in the next patient.

This time, both Avena and Ciel were taken aback.

Adele?

A young girl, wearing a silver raven mask, nervously took a seat across from Avena. Stammering, she introduced herself, “D-Doctor… h-hello, my name is Abar…”

Ciel’s lips twitched.

Kid, your medic badge is still hanging on your chest.

Still, she was curious—why was Adele here? Shouldn’t she be under investigation?