The Tyrant Wants to Live a Good Life,
I am nine years old. My physical condition was wretched, too poor to face an adult man.
Furthermore, I had never honed my swordsmanship.
Before my regression, I was quite skilled with a sword, but after returning, I deliberately kept my distance.
I was afraid that I might use the sword for something bad.
Because of this, the girl I am now is frail enough to be called a bookish scholar.
‘I don’t mind dying early, but at least I don’t want to be killed by guys like this.’
I don’t dream of eternal life, but that doesn’t mean I want my second life to end in being captured and killed by kidnappers.
Even if it’s not a lovely life, since it’s my second, I want to die beautifully and ordinarily.
I racked my brain, waiting for my head to clear a little more.
Will I be able to escape?
“It has been three days since that woman left, and there is still no news.”
**The Tyrant Wants to Live a Good Life**, Chapter 9
**I am nine years old. My physical condition was wretched.** “It will take some time to get ready and make it to the Red Well.”
Three days? I’ve been asleep for three whole days?
No wonder I felt so weak and thirsty.
I remember looking for water whenever I woke up in between, and I think they even gave it to me.
Was that water laced with poison?
I pondered it for a long time, but I came to the conclusion that I couldn't just lie here.
My plan, for now, is to make them let their guard down by showing that I am just an ordinary, weak girl.
I realized that showing off how smart I am would only be digging my own grave.
“Mmm…”
I tried to rub my eyes over the blindfold, but instead of being bothered by it, I tried to pretend I was trying to take it off.
The only saving grace was that my hands and feet were free.
Since the probability of me, having gone without food for three days, defeating adult men and escaping was close to zero, it seemed they hadn't bothered to tie me up.
“Looks like you’re awake.”
“Little one, are you awake?”
A greeting voice brushed past my ears.
“Ugh, I can’t see this...”
“Let me go.”
I heard the sound of someone approaching, and then the blindfold covering my eyes was removed.
Even though I opened my eyes after keeping them closed for so long, I found myself in a dark, shabby room with no glare.
Because there wasn't even a window, I couldn't tell where I was, or whether it was night or day.
‘First off, as for the kidnappers… … I see two of them?’
I checked the situation while pretending to open my eyes half-asleep.
One person was playing cards alone on one side, and the other was sitting on a chair next to me, killing time.
The person sitting on the chair next to me had a long scar on his forehead and was wearing a knife at his waist.
Judging by the look of it, they didn't seem like a formidable organization; they looked like lowlifes who had just come from the streets.
‘… … "Did I really get taken down by guys like this?"
My self-esteem is really plummeting.
"Hi, little one."
The guy sitting next to me met my eyes and grinned. But that smile looked more foolish than affectionate.
"Hello."
I cheerfully returned his greeting.
I wasn't scared, and since I needed time to figure them out, I had no choice but to win their favor.
Since they said they sent a nanny, it seemed like things would work out somehow, but there was one thing I was worried about.
"... ... Carnan might give up on me."
He might think it's better to use someone like me as a disposable pawn than to pay me.
He might even think it's for the best.
"I can't just rely on Carnan."
They said three days had already passed.
That means the Imperial Household hasn't been able to find a kidnapper like this petty thief for three days.
If the one-week deadline passed, I had no idea what they might do to me.
My trust in Carnan had hit rock bottom and was rotting away beneath the bedrock and lava, so I couldn't just wait indefinitely, trusting in his salvation.
The problem was my physical condition.
Perhaps because I hadn't eaten for days and had taken medicine, I had absolutely no strength left.
“Who are you, sir?”
Helpless, I decided to pretend to be an innocent child for the time being. Like, for instance, a fool like Ray.
When I asked with my eyes wide open, he just watched me for a moment before smiling.
“You’re a cute little lady. I’m Tutu.”
“Are you the new nanny, Mr. Tutu?”
“Nanny? No. You’re not the nanny.”
“Then, Dad’s friend?”
I deliberately smiled brightly. Like a clueless fool who couldn’t grasp the situation.
"Anyone who saw Dorothea Milanaire acting like this would be rolling on the floor laughing."
I was angry at my situation, having to win their favor by putting on a smile that didn't suit my personality at all, but I had to hold it in.
"Yes, I am Dad's friend."
Perhaps because of my smile, Tutu's face softened before I knew it, and he responded to my innocent act.
"Then can I call you Uncle Tutu?"
"Uncle Tutu? Heh heh, sure, Uncle Tutu."
Tutu grinned broadly, as if he liked the title "Uncle."
"Perhaps because you are a noble, you are as pretty as a doll."
As Tutu muttered while staring intently at me, I forced a smile.
Come to think of it, there was a certain smooth talker who used to say this to me almost every day.
"If only Your Majesty could smile, I would do anything." “So, Your Majesty, please smile just once.”
Leaving aside the credibility of those words, people had been saying I was beautiful even before I became Emperor.
Just like at Ray’s investiture ceremony, people said I bore the exact same resemblance to Empress Alice.
My late mother, Alice, was a stunning beauty, enough to make Crown Prince Carnan fall in love at first sight.
Furthermore, she was a woman who stole Emperor Carnan’s heart so completely that he never remarried until his death.
Even after my mother’s passing, stories of her beauty occasionally surfaced among the nobility.
My appearance is unsatisfactory to me, but it seems it is not terrible in the eyes of others.
“But where is this place?”
I asked, shaking off my thoughts.
“This is my uncle’s house.”
A lie. No matter how poor the house was, there were hardly any signs of human habitation.
However, I had no choice but to pretend to be fooled.
I needed to buy time until I could figure out the situation.
“Wow, but what’s that on your face, Uncle? It looks cool!”
I pointed to the scar on his forehead and smiled broadly.
With the compliment coming right in before he even had a chance to get angry or threaten me, Tutu scratched his head in delight.
“Heh, really? Well, you see. Back in the day, Uncle fought 17 against 1 against some scary people...”
“17 against 1? You fought seventeen people all by yourself, Uncle?”
You should stop bragging so much.
“That’s right. I fought seventeen people all by myself!”
“Wow! Uncle must be the strongest in the world!”
I clapped my small hands in response to his ridiculous boasting.
Thinking to myself, “With a body like yours, fighting 17 against 1... I bet you were fighting ants, right?”
“That fight was originally supposed to be fought bare-knuckles. But some despicable bastard pulled a knife out from under his clothes.”
Ah, I see. I thought so.
“That fellow was aiming for my heart. This scar was sustained while dodging it.”
I don’t know why you got a scar on your forehead while dodging a knife aimed at your heart, but you must have dodged it quite spectacularly.
“That must have hurt.”
“This is nothing.”
He had already forgotten that he had kidnapped me and had become an uncle telling his nephew tales of his heroic past.
“You’re strong, Uncle.”
“And fast, too.”
Tutu moved his body noisily, making ‘whoosh’ sounds with his mouth.
Ah, come on. Enough already. There’s a limit to how much I’m holding back.
“A. D. A. D. A. D.”
I clapped my hands in forced clapping, playing along with Tutu’s bravado.
Excited, Tutu sat closer to me and continued his bluffing.
As I listened, I could tell his imagination was extraordinary.
Like meeting a bear in the forest and defeating it in a bare-handed fight so its hide would hang in his house, or surviving a landslide by digging his way through the dirt with his bare hands.
‘If that’s the case, why don’t you try being a novelist? With that level of imagination, you could make a living just by writing a lot.’
I thought to myself, repeating mechanical exclamations of admiration.
Listening to his tall tales was just as torture as facing Carnan.
But thanks to that, I bought myself time to secretly survey my surroundings.
Unfortunately, nothing—not weapons, exit locations, or the environment—was in my favor.
Having roughly grasped the situation, I saw no need to listen to Tutu any longer.
“Uncle… I’m hungry.”
Exhausted from listening to Tutu’s tall tales, I interrupted him the moment a gap opened up in his story.
If I listened any longer, I’d lose my temper.
On top of that, my hands were trembling from hunger that had reached its breaking point.
“Oh dear! Our little lady is hungry!”
Tutu had already sided with me and went over to the man playing cards.
Sitting slouching in a chair and fiddling with his cards, he made no attempt to hide his displeasure.
“Danny, the kid says he’s hungry.”
“So?”
Danny glared at Tutu.
It was clear at a glance that Danny was higher in the hierarchy than Tutu.
“Well, it’s time for us to eat, and the kid has been starving for a long time…”
Danny glared at me with a look of disdain.
However, as if it was indeed time for a meal, he ordered Tutu to bring out the food.
They cleared the table where they had been playing cards and prepared to eat.
The food served looked quite decent.
"You are enjoying your feast while thinking about the money you will receive for kidnapping me."
A whole chicken cooked to perfection, and bread piled high with cheese.
Only after the smell of the food stung my nose did the hunger I had been ignoring surge back.
It had been a long time since I felt such extreme hunger.
A hunger that could easily make one grovel, a hunger that made me want to kneel and beg for a piece of bread.
I didn't want to fall to the level of begging kidnappers, so I kept my mouth shut tight.
If I kept my mouth open, I felt like saliva would leak out without me even realizing it.
Tutu naturally picked me up and seated me at the table where the food was laid out.
"Where do you think you're sitting? Get down."
Danny glared at me with a menacing look.
The sternness that refused to allow me to share a table with him.
It wasn't like I volunteered to sit here, yet he treats me like a criminal—he really reminds me of someone. The pathetic plea to have just a piece of bread rose to the brink of cobwebs in my throat, but I barely managed to swallow it.
“But the kid…”
“Aren’t you getting your act together? No.
