Home/The Reason I Was Reincarnated as a Witch in a Novel/ch 2

Chapter 002

Waking up in a strange place and greeting someone so calmly—did that mean he was confident in his abilities?

At least he's not treating me like a kidnapper. Good.

Thinking whatever she pleased, Lindsay removed her hand from the man's body, stood up, and gestured toward the shop entrance.

"I won't charge you for the treatment. The exit is that way."

"I don't want to leave."

"Huh?"

Thinking she had misheard, Lindsay picked at her ear with her pinky. The man smiled as if painted and once again made his intentions clear.

"I said I'm not leaving."

"No. Why?!"

She had heard correctly. The man was now expressing his refusal to the very person who had saved him.

At Lindsay's near-shriek, the black cat let out a pleased cry.

[Since ancient times, they say you shouldn't heal humans carelessly, meow.]

You made that up, didn't you? Just goes to show you're a demon.

To avoid looking like a madwoman talking to a cat, Lindsay merely glared at the black cat. The cat, enjoying her glare, swished its tail lazily.

"After falling ill with that cursed disease, this is the first time my body has felt this comfortable."

Smiling languidly, the man raised his upper body and wrapped his arms around one of Lindsay's legs. He went so far as to bury his face against her thigh.

Lindsay, looking utterly baffled, struggled to free her captured leg. But perhaps because she couldn't use too much force for fear of injuring him, her leg wouldn't come loose easily.

"Let go and get out of my house right now!"

"It's you, isn't it?"

"Ugh, why are you so persistent?"

"The one who fixed my corrupted mana. No... should I call you a witch?"

Lindsay's movements, which had been trying to pry his face off her leg, slowed.

Seizing that opening, the man took her hand, pulled it down, and met her gaze. His crescent-shaped lavender eyes filled her wide jade-green irises entirely.

"Nice to meet you, Lady Witch."

"No... What do you mean, witch..."

Lionel ignored Lindsay's muttering.

"I'm Lionel Belmontshe. Please, Lady Witch, call me by my name."

"I'm not a witch..."

[The brat is already certain of your identity. How utterly dimwitted, meow.]

The black cat mocked Lindsay's fading voice. With her cover blown at first sight, Lindsay clutched at Lionel's green cloak as if it were her last lifeline.

"Even if I say I'm not, you won't believe me, will you?"

"No."

At the decisive answer, Lindsay's face twisted. A low curse slipped between her lips.

"Damn it... sh—"

Lindsay Monahan. Exposed within a month of blending into human society.

---

Lindsay took a sip of jasmine tea and breathed deeply. Everything that had happened before sitting here felt like a dream.

No, she wished it had been a dream.

[When are you giving me food, meow?]

"...You gluttonous cat, really..."

You don't even need to eat. And I'm the one who's hungrier.

Despite Lindsay's reproachful glare, the cat yawned, unconcerned, opening its short snout wide.

Watching Nero's leisurely demeanor, Lindsay tilted her head. Am I the only one this restless?

"Is that cat raised by the Lady Witch?"

Lionel, seated across from Lindsay, scrutinized the black cat with an intrigued gaze. The cat merely perked its ears once and showed no other reaction. To anyone else, it would have seemed like an ordinary cat.

"Yes. He has a vicious temper, so don't go near him."

[Don't forget I'm right next to you, little witch.]

Ignoring the cat's piercing gaze, Lindsay tilted her teacup. Over the rim, she could see Lionel beaming. At that radiant smile, her throat bobbed heavily.

"If you're worried I might turn you in as a witch, don't be. That won't happen."

Lindsay snorted. She had heard of the witch hunts that occurred before she was born.

Not a single witch had died in the witch hunts that swept across the continent. Those who perished as witches back then were women with the aptitude of mages.

Unlike witches, who were born with mana from the dawn of time, it was only after many ages that blessed individuals began to appear in the human world. Humans, fearing their power, drove innocent mages to their deaths not only through witch hunts but through all manner of pretexts.

In this age, where mages set off fireworks, such things were unimaginable—yet only a few centuries ago, they were common. But after the era of mage persecution, through to what was now called the Golden Age of Magic, witches had never feared death by witch hunt.

Witches, who sat higher on the food chain than humans, gave a crooked smile.

"Do I look like I'm worried about myself?"

"You're not?"

You'd better worry about your head. My fist is aiming for the back of it right now.

Under the table, Lindsay's free hand tightened. She was deliberating how to deal with the man who had followed her all the way into her second-floor residence.

According to her hazy recollection of the novel, Lionel should have suffered amnesia from the aftereffects of the runaway and been taken in by the heroine. Yet here he was, collapsed in front of her house, memory intact, sipping tea across from her.

Is my memory wrong?

Among the vivid memories of her previous life, the details of the novel she had reincarnated into were particularly blurry.

"What are you looking at?"

Growing sharp, Lindsay found even the beauty smiling at her irritating. Despite her prickly response, Lionel never lost his smile. Rather, as if aware of his own advantage, he tilted his head and deployed his charms.

"Your mana is the color I like most."

"Do you want your fingers broken?"

Lindsay caught his long, slender fingers as they traced between her collarbones. Despite her threat, Lionel replied calmly.

"I suppose fate is different after all. That the witch who would save me has the color I love..."

Who called this guy the pure and pitiable second male lead? Pure and pitiable my foot!

With his downcast eyes and murmuring voice, he looked exactly like a nine-tailed fox. Lindsay internally protested to the author about the mislabeling of keywords, then waved her arm as if shooing a fly.

"Go home now. It's been over thirty minutes since I picked you up."

"To think you'd want to send me away like this—I'm starting to feel a little hurt."

Lionel drooped the corners of his eyes as if genuinely disappointed. After pursing his lips in thought, he spoke to her brightly.

"Fine. Then how about this: tell me your name, and I'll leave for today."

"Why does 'for today' have to be included?"

"Because I'll be coming to see my Lady Witch tomorrow as well, and my Lady Witch will want to send me away."

What do you do with a stalker who announces their stalking right in front of their target?

Though she had lived for ages, this was the first time she had encountered this type of human. Lindsay clutched her throbbing head and took another sip of tea. Fine, he already knows where I live—giving him my name can't hurt...

"Lindsay Monahan. And drop that 'Lady Witch' nonsense—call me Lindsay."

"All right. Lindsay. Your name is as lovely as the witch herself. As promised, I'll leave for today."

See you tomorrow.

With a melting, soft smile and a wave of his hand, Lionel vanished in an instant by teleportation. Lindsay chewed over his final words, then suddenly shouted:

"What do you mean 'see you tomorrow'! Don't come back!"

[He's already gone, meow.]

Nero mocked his contractor's pathetic state, swishing his tail. Lindsay dropped her head onto the table and muttered.

"Ahh. I can already tell a headache is coming."

[Little witch. When are you going to cure that laziness of yours? For goodness' sake, move once in a while.]

"Nero. You don't understand. The worn-out life of a corporate worker..."

The cat, meeting her hollow gaze, shook its head.

[More nonsense again.]

"You really don't get it."

[Just give me food, meow.]

As if even speaking was a bother, the cat irritably swiped the shelf with its tail. Lindsay stood up, scooped the cat off the shelf into her arms, and rummaged through the kitchen pantry. The cat, unresisting in her embrace, meowed.

[Shall I erase that brat's memory?]

Lindsay's hands, which had been pulling out a pot and bowls from the pantry, stopped. That was a tempting offer.

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