I Married Because I Wanted To Live A Normal Life - Chapter 27

No, what……

I facepalmed and decided to skim through this embarrassing record as fast as I could. Damn it. The more I read, the more I reinterpreted the contents of the letter that Lady Avenue wrote to me.

What? You have a bad reputation because you can’t stand out? I don’t think it was at the level of a bad reputation, right? I’m sure everyone was just staring at you as if they were looking at a sad, pitiful lamb?

The contents of Evertail’s diary were uneventful.

Whether it was true that he was a homebody, it usually consisted of stories about his family or close acquaintances, or about what works he had written through some kind of contemplation.

In addition, it was now accompanied by……. a rare eighth-grade syndrome narration.

Seeing that he wrote a long story about being scolded by his parents, he didn’t seem to be old. At least that’s what Evertail looked like when he wrote this diary.

I didn’t even know where my initial motivation went, and I now began to skim through Evertail’s diary like a promotional item I received along the way. I stopped and read only the parts that seemed meaningful or stood out.

[Another voice inside of me was whispering again today……. To ‘open’ the power…….]

I guess the fact that people with eighth-grade syndrome liked to use parentheses or quotation marks for meaningless words was something that went beyond dimensions.

[There are times when I feel like I can’t control my power…… Every time that happens, I hold my hand tightly and mumble…… ‘Stay calm, stay calm’…….]

He was writing his diary like a novel in case someone might not know that he was a writer.

[The cake made by the nanny was delicious]

Yes, yes, I see.

Now, almost as if I was reading a diary written by my nephew, I suddenly stopped my hand on one page.

[I want to know where this power comes from. I hate this power so much!

I know that special power is passed down only to the people who founded the country, but this power is too ‘powerful’ compared to theirs…….]

[I’m tired of being scared for no apparent reason! I’m going on a journey to find myself…… Ah, I’m not really saying I’m leaving.]

The way he spoke was the same, but……. I blinked. Because his hypothesis was almost like mine.

Did he really have some power?

And as I turned the next page, I saw several character profiles added under the existing meaningless diary.

Some of them were listed in the Riot family genealogy seen in the Noble Handbook.

Perhaps Evertail also looked into the past in his own standards as I saw a lot more people from the previous generation than what I did.

In addition, Evertail even kept detailed records of their title, occupation, age, year of birth, reputation, and rumors.

It feels like I’m blowing my nose without touching it [1] ?

I flipped through his diary, reading through the information he had investigated.

As Evertail in the diary grew up, the information of countless characters accumulated.

A young person’s desire to collect was sometimes surprising. Perhaps he took this as a hobby.

But as I read it, I noticed something strange.

Many of those investigated by Evertail usually died prematurely, or were killed by someone. Or ended their life barely getting married.

“…….”

As I investigated the information, Evertail gradually grew older, and his writing style became calmer.

When the unrefined writing turned into an adult’s, there were only a few pages left in the diary in my hand.

At that point, Evertail left a very long message, as if it were a report concluding his investigation so far.

[Those with this bloody power usually seem to have a gentle personality.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I am. It was only when I objectively summarized their reputation.

I don’t know if it’s God’s arrangement or nature’s providence for the devastation that would occur if we wielded this power randomly.

Anyway, they’re usually killed by someone, or they take their own lives. As if they had no regrets in life, they died young or lived alone without starting a family.]

When Evertail pointed out something I vaguely felt as I read it, I held my breath before I knew it.

Although he suffered from an eighth-grade syndrome, the boy who innocently vowed to find out about his own power became an adult with a very weary tone, leaving his thoughts behind.

[I can understand why they made that choice.

This power really doesn’t help. Can this be called power in the first place?

This is a disaster.

It is not a power that can be wielded and subdued by others.

It is not a power that can be used to gain wealth and power.

It only instills fear in the other person.

How could I blame them for feeling an instinctive eerie feeling at the sight of a blade that is unleashed without a sheath?

The other person is good or bad, important to me or not.

Regardless of that, it’s just a power that proves that I can make someone disappear if I put my mind to it.

I, to be honest, find this power bothersome, scary. I am afraid of others who will fear this power.

Above all, I am afraid of the feelings that my loving family members will have for me.

So I decided to simply forget this power and live.

Digging into the source was of no use. Even if I find out, the end of the ancestors stuck to my mind like a curse and haunted me.

So I’m going to stop here and bury it in the past.]

A diary that I thought ended with that had a few lines below that paragraph. It was scribbled like this in rough handwriting, as if voicing these thoughts were terrifying.

[But I swear if anyone threatens the safety of those I love,

I’m willing to be a monster.]

“…….”

The few pages that followed were written by critics who regarded the diary as a literary source when viewing Evertail Piaget as a prominent horror writer.

They added that the diary provided a glimpse into Evertail Piaget’s boundless imagination and a solid universe for his future horror novels.

But no one thought this was a record of facts.

It’s a matter of course. What is power or ability? From the perspective of a person who knows nothing, it would be complete nonsense.

But I know it’s not.

……it was a strange feeling.

What can I say? After all…… this was a world inside a book.

In books, the characters with tremendous power are often referred to as Munchkins [2] .

The protagonists who are munchkins are, well. Although I can’t be confident that I’ve read all the novels in that genre. Those who usually wield that power are taken for granted.

Humans cannot help but feel joy in gaining the upper hand in certain situations.

In this sense, the protagonists naturally pressed their opponents with force, and the readers were also vicariously satisfied and enthusiastic with it.

I was one of them.

Whether the protagonist accidentally gained that power, grew up and gained it in the past, or an absolute person who lived in retirement after all his adventures.

As it unfolds, they set an example for those who stand in their way, and the protagonist eventually reaches a happy future.

Isn’t that the essence of the story?

But why?

‘You really…… weren’t scared of me that day?’

In the world of books, why do people who actually have such power…… have these human worries?

“…….”

This is a fictional world created by the author. When I lived on Earth, I had certainly read a novel that told the story of this world.

But since I was possessed here, I have embraced this world as a reality.

How could I not? I feel vivid sensations in this world, and I have lived more closely with people who are more than those who appear in <I Picked Up My Husband>.

But every time I saw the people who really think and act like humans.

Very often, not the world in the book I read, but just…… the thought that ‘I’ve fallen into a world I really know nothing about’ came to mind and my heart shook.

What is this, I just wanted to find out about Hisch’s abilities……

I had no strength in my body and was barely lying half on the pillow, so I threw away Evertail’s diary and covered myself with a blanket.

The floating feeling that suddenly filled my heart did not disappear, so I closed my eyes tightly and buried myself deep in the bed.

The impact of the word ‘prophecy’ I uttered before I collapsed was tremendous, and many of those from above were very interested in it.

It must have been even more so since the cathedral had been attacked.

Even among them, countless interpretations seem to come and go. So I decided to do a quick investigation on the matter on my own.

Prophecy? It’s from a religion.

It was a long-standing missionary means of a religion about God’s discussion of future events that ordinary humans could not know.

So I asked my father to let me read the prophecies kept in the royal library, and I was now following the librarian who was guiding me with a swagge