Tainted Past Of The Fallen Heir

What? What do you mean by that?

I had no idea how to answer that question. Was it actually meant to be rhetorical?
Ah, whatever.
I didn’t even know why I laughed like that. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase. But that alone couldn’t explain why I just threatened a princess for killing someone out of nowhere.

Soon after, everything began to fade to black.

**

(The scene then moved to the tainted past of the fallen heir, Clarisse von Fahrmann.)

“Three drops of the extracted chrysanthemum flower.”

“Parasites to be sacrificed.”

“The blood of the parasite’s owner.”

She slit her arm, letting the blood pour into the cauldron.

Clarisse von Fahrmann.
The villainess.
The fallen heir.
The Crimson Queen...

...had finally completed her soul-replenishment ritual for the day. The one that allowed her to remain immortal by transferring her soul into the vessel of a new host.

Not exactly that.

Because, in truth, she had already died multiple times—devouring countless souls in the process. And not once had a single human being sent to her soul managed to survive.

Well, if she didn’t deem a soul suitable, of course she would eat it.
And all of this?
Was done out of boredom.

Yes—boredom.

Because not even once had she found anyone truly befitting her throne.

“That male office worker I discovered a week ago was so boring. If I weren’t about to die, I’d have done something even more brutal than forcing my workers to pay outrageous taxes. Heck, he even tried to normalize payments. Pathetic slave.”

She muttered to herself, as if anyone could hear her at all.

“And that cute girl… an idol, she said? Well, she could’ve done better—until she almost got sexually assaulted by a random servant. Of course I killed both of them before that happened. That would never happen to me. Stupid girl.”

She sipped her drink—blood, extracted from the souls she had already devoured.

“And the last time, when I died during that silly experiment… a model. Very muscular. I thought he’d be a great fit, but seeing him appeal to both genders like a common whore? Disgusting. Naturally, I devoured him. But oh, well…”

“What these people call ikemen don’t taste half bad, though.”

The truth was, she was once again awaiting another soul—one about to die from “another world.”
And for some strange reason, they always came from a foreign country called Nippon.

“Do these people just want to die that badly, or what?”

She shook her head, still waiting for the ritual to settle.

And soon enough, her next victim finally emerged.

“This damned Nippon again?! Just how many times do they want to die?!”

She flinched at the sight of the white, papyrus-like pages floating before her.

There it was—the translation of the soul inside the cauldron.

“Yui Katagiri. Police detective. 32 years old.”

“Wait—thirty-two?! That’s the oldest so far! How?!”

She balked, clearly unwilling to accept it.
Typically, the souls she received from Nippon had been those who either committed suicide, died in truck or car accidents, or were victims of murder or sexual assault.

And never—ever—had she received the soul of someone that old.

Before this, the record-holder was the male office worker. He was only twenty-four.

“No, no, no. If an old soul like her resides in my heart, I would be—”

Wait.

She’s… pretty.
And really hot.
For a mom.

Clarisse’s interest shifted the moment the woman’s entire history was revealed.
It turned out Yui was a part-time cosplayer outside of her tedious, monotonous work—or so Clarisse perceived it.

Clarisse even suspected she might be a villainess in disguise.

“Hm… that dress. I would definitely wear that in a modern world. Unlike here, where I need to hire a dozen parlors just to create one unique design.”

Clarisse, with her refined and sophisticated taste in fashion, was easily bored by old, repetitive styles. So when she saw a design that resonated with her own aesthetic, she took it.

She even had her tailors design a dress inspired by the male office worker—just because she liked the cut.

***

"Now, you belong to me, Yui!"

That hysterical scream sent chills down my spine, as mist engulfed everything around me.
Then a palace rose before me, with Clarisse seated elegantly upon its throne.

The hysterical laughter I had let out was gone—replaced by bewilderment, intrigue, and suspicion.
Maybe because this place felt sacred. A sign of something.
Wait... is this something like the Benevolent Shrine in Ninjutsu Shinsen?

More or less a domain designed by someone for aura farming. Something along those lines.
And somehow, something I might be familiar with. I had been a long-time fan, despite the terrible ending. I even once cosplayed one of the male characters.

Meanwhile, Clarisse von Fahrmann was now looking down at me—or maybe it just seemed that way because her throne was positioned atop a grand staircase—sipping her drink nonchalantly.
Her posture was composed, her legs rested low, one hand curled into a fist, tapping her cheek. Witnessing this, I could honestly understand why others feared her.
Especially with that kind of presence—it exuded pure terror for anyone who laid eyes on her.

"So, Katagiri-san... have you found the answer to that question?"

I still couldn’t bring myself to reply. All I could do was swallow—an anxious gulp that gave me away.
She stared at me with a menacing gaze. Eyes possessed by the soul of a villainess—one who might have murdered thousands... no, millions.
Especially with how lifeless her pupils looked.

Just how many people have you killed?

"Still think you’re the ally of justice?"

Feeling offended, I summoned the courage to speak.

"What’s wrong with enforcing the law to bring justice to humanity?"

She clicked her tongue—“ck-ck-ck”—as if lamenting my response. A sound of pity. Or maybe disgust.

"Well, that’s exactly why you died, you poor, lowly human being."
"I thought I was right to have you as my soul’s replacement. Now? I’m not even interested anymore."
"Justice? Jailing people? Proving yourself? You’ve got to be kidding."

"This moral nonsense is so boring. Get out of my way."

I felt a weight in my chest.
Because this was everything I had stood for.
Everything I had lived for—for more or less ten years in service to humanity. By enforcing laws... for justice.

"If that’s the case, then why summon me at all? Was it just to amuse yourself?"
"Or maybe you just wanted to feel superior—by calling on me, the greatest detective in Japan?"

It looked like I had just pushed her buttons by saying that...

A sadistic, sinister smile began to form on her lips.

"Oh my... how curious you are, lowly creature. And what guts you have."

She lowered her head, eyes meeting mine—and then flew straight toward me.

Yes, without her body attached anymore.

"Now you’ve caught my interest again, Officer Yui Katagiri."

I didn’t know how to react. My body stiffened, witnessing the horror unravel before my eyes.

"So, do you really want to know?"
"If that’s so... I have a deal for you, human."