It was a tragedy.
Because of these memories, she felt a bone-deep fear for that woman.
But the memories themselves… she could no longer tell if they were real or false.
In other words,
“Is this fear… even mine, or is it fake?”
Pandora smiled wryly, shaking her groggy head.
“Real Schrödinger’s terror right there.”
If you can’t tell the difference, there’s no point in trying.
At least, she could confirm one thing. She still held value in that woman’s eyes. She wasn't like Aurora or Elsa, the type to be used and discarded, to have her related memories wiped on a whim…
For now, that was her one and only saving grace.
But then again… that woman, she probably wasn’t the Warden, right?
In his notes, Dulles had described the position countless times, in a tone full of complaints. Being a Warden wasn’t a good gig.
The assignment lasted a full year, and you were stuck in this isolated “Orchard World.” No people, no resources, no decent opportunities to train. If not for the generous final reward, or for apprentices like Dulles who were truly at the end of their rope, nobody would want to be “imprisoned” here.
That terrifying woman, whose very existence defied common logic, was definitely not the next Warden.
So… who was she? Why did she come to the “Orchard”?
Pandora’s thoughts were a turbulent mess.
All sorts of wild conjectures surfaced in her mind, but after a moment’s thought, she found all of them ridiculous.
The one she felt had the highest probability was her. The drop of mysterious Witch’s Blood that had fused into her body.
But she immediately shot that down.
Dulles had also consumed a potion with Witch’s Blood in it, and not just one vial. Not to mention all he’d wasted in the process of his research. That woman would hardly personally come to this Orchard World—which was basically a training sandbox for the Demon Hunter Academy—for a single drop of Witch’s Blood.
Besides, now that she’d calmed down and was replaying their conversation, Pandora noticed details she’d missed while immersed in that wonderful script of “reuniting with her sister.”
For example, when she asked, “‘Who is ‘Her’?” and the woman, answering her question, said, “She is the source of all the Witch’s Blood,” deep within those beautiful eyes… a sliver of a deeply hidden, yet very real, killing intent, had flashed.
That killing intent was well-hidden by her complex, astonished expression, only discoverable after the fact, once she was calm, like analyzing a video file frame by frame...
But if that was the case… she was actually, an enemy of that “Witch”?
So… could it be like those wild, light novel plots from her past life? Was this “Witch’s Blood” actually, in a certain sense, a method of resurrection for that Witch? And she… was here to stop the Witch’s “resurrection”?
Pandora thought of the Witch’s figure she had seen twice, the one who had danced with her and then melted into her body. Letting her imagination run wild, she suddenly felt… it was entirely possible! And the more she thought about it, the more… reasonable it felt.
However…
Pandora ultimately, threw the theory aside. It had seemingly sprung from thin air.
The reason was simple.
The physical “evidence” she had was too scarce. To construct such an enormous script, a confrontation between two unknown, powerful beings, based on just a flash of killing intent and an identity full of holes… was utterly pointless.
But… speaking of physical evidence…
Pandora took the card from her pocket.
It was exactly the same as in her memory. That cold, metallic feel and its complex, flowing patterns, seemed to also serve as proof that those memories, at least the ones related to it, hadn’t been altered.
Judging by its form, it was clearly a business card.
The name “Amanda Adam” was the most prominent. Next was that number “Six,” placed before the title “Demon Hunter.”
However… as for the true meaning of that number “Six,” Pandora had deep suspicions.
A sixth-rank Demon Hunter, taking a personal interest in her, who had only just reached second rank? That was a little too outrageous.
“Do I… really rate the personal attention of a figure of this level?” Pandora considered herself special, but far from so special that a being of this level would descend personally, just to take an interest in her.
But, judging by that woman’s level of sheer wrongness earlier… sixth-rank… maybe wasn’t that impossible after all?
Still… thinking carefully from the perspective of the strength she currently possessed, by the time she reached sixth rank, she probably, most likely, still wouldn’t be able to do something like that?
Shaking her head, she looked back at the card, her gaze still full of vigilance and caution.
In the end, she carefully put it away again.
As for what the woman had said, about finding her?
—No. Absolutely not.
She would rather die than feel that way again. Like a puppet on strings, her very soul twisted to fit another’s design.
She had no confidence she could hide her greatest secret—the System—from that woman. The more she understood her own sheer, instinctual, and unconditional trust in “her sister,” the more impossible it was for her to meet that impostor. She could not accept that pure trust being so defiled.
As for the “future” she’d promised…
Pandora, honestly, wasn’t that interested.
With the System, she had no doubt she could, on her own, forge a unique path, one that belonged completely to her.
“Aaaah~”
At that thought, Pandora let out a long, drawn-out yawn.
She was so exhausted.
She’d experienced the shock of the Orchard’s truth, the tension and wonder of the breakthrough, and then the soul-crushing, spiritual torment of having her cognition completely rewritten by that “Faye.”
In her low-SAN state, she even had this wild impulse.
Just destroy it.
This world. Now.
Logically speaking, today was the seventh day after the outbreak. She should have been making preparations for the next Warden, who was due to arrive soon.
But she… didn’t want to make any more preparations.
After all, hadn’t she already killed one?
Worst case, she’d just kill another.
Then she could hide in some corner of this world and see who could catch her.
After all… she was already being watched by a suspected sixth-rank woman who radiated pure, unadulterated wrongness from every pore. Where could there be a worse outcome than this?