“Let’s run away.”

Pandora was determined. Running away seemed to be the answer.

When entering the museum she’s being controlled, but at home, no one could stop her.

‘If I don’t go to the museum, the event won’t happen!’

Pandora harbored an ambitious desire to abandon her role and break free from the shackles of the event.

‘I’ll ruin the exhibition and go tomorrow!’

It was an experiment without conviction. It is unfounded. The only components needed were a spoonful of hope and a dash of ingenuity.

Cough cough cough! Oh my, I’m dying!

Pandora feigned illness: she stuck to her bed like a stick of gum and screamed about how much her stomach hurt.

The maid scurried out to fetch the doctor, who had already left for the day. The doctor rushed into the room with a rare look of panic on his face.

He hadn’t seen her in the morning, but at least he still cared since he was her doctor.

However, his expression was not good. The doctor gave her a cursory glance before shaking his head and walking away.

Caught in the act, Pandora was put in a carriage and sent to the museum.

Let’s hide.

“Miss, what are you doing there?”

After being discovered hiding under the bed, Pandora was put in a carriage and sent to the museum.

Let’s jump out the window.

She fell two stories and hurt her leg. It hurt like hell, but she knew she could make it this time.

‘You won’t send someone with a broken leg to work, do you?’

There’s no way. She got this

Her ankle was bruised and swollen, and after bandaging and casting it, she was put in a carriage and sent to the art gallery.

Let’s run away.

She ran out of the building, away from the eyes of the servants. As she crouched down against the mansion’s wall and crawled through the opening she’d already seen, someone grabbed Pandora’s foot and yanked her back.

“Miss~ where are you going, you’re supposed to be at the exhibition~!”

It was Anna, the maid who would ghostly find her wherever she went, wherever she hid, and come to get her.

What are you? Scary.

The way she chuckled and helped her up and brushed the dirt off her clothes gave her goosebumps. How she knew to find her every time was beyond her at this point.

She’s like an obsessed maid, scarier than a obsessive male lead.

“I can’t go! I can’t go! I don’t want to!”

Pandora struggled against the wooden beam beside her, but her paper-thin body gave way easily.

How on earth has this household come to this, the servant does not know to be afraid of its master. Pandora shouted sternly with the sharpest sound she could muster.

“Oh ho! I’m serious! Put me down! Will you listen to me when you’re scolded?”

“Ay, indeed. Miss, if you keep flailing about, you’ll fall~!”

“I’m flailing to get you to drop me!”

“Hoo hoo hoo. You’re being feisty. I can’t help it when you make such a cute face.”

“Hick, when did I?!”

Pandora narrowed her eyes in exasperation. Then Anna’s expression melted into a motherly smile.

You’re younger than me!

Don’t make that disgusting face!

Pandora wriggled like a midget, crumpling her face, but it was impossible to escape Anna’s muscular arms.

“My lady, you are so pretty, what shall we do? The gentlemen who will come to see the exhibition will not look at the pictures, but at you; and what if someone should carry you away?”

“N, no, I’m not cute, and my paintings aren’t bad enough for anyone to be distracted from them!”

“Of course~ your paintings are the best, it’s going to be a very nice exhibition, have a good time~”

“No, I don’t want to go……!”

Pandora was put into a carriage and sent to the art museum.

Let’s die.

“…….”

Pandora held a small vial of blue liquid in her hand. It was poison.

She had found it in a drawer while rummaging through her room to pack for her escape.

She asked Anna about it, and she tells her that when she was younger, her cousin’s brother, who coveted the vast fortune Pandora was set to inherit, tried to bribe Anna, a new maid, to poison her.

Anna took the money and brought the vial straight to Pandora, where she was quickly promoted to full-time maid, and Pandora kept the vial in her drawer.

Perverted developers.

What a backstory for a mere extra NPC.

It was June 9th, not yesterday or tomorrow, and Pandora didn’t even know she had a backstory.

‘If I discover a diary, it would be a total mess.’

An orphan, an heiress, a half-blind painter.

As if that wasn’t enough, an attempted poisoning, and she couldn’t wait to see what else was in store. It was overkill, anyway.

Pandora pulled the fingernail-sized cork out of the vial. It made a cute popping sound and smelled delicious.

She mixed the medicine in the strong green liquor, grabbed the vial, and headed to her workshop.

The creators of ?Villain’s Way of Love? wanted a “drunken painter” concept for Pandora, so no one thought it was strange to see her carrying a bottle into her studio.

Today was the 69th June 9th.

During the time loop, quite a few paintings had accumulated in the studio.

They were the only ones that remained, unlike all the others, which disappeared as if nothing had happened at 11:59:59 pm.

The only remnants of Pandora’s time that no one remembers and no one knows.

Proof that Pandora had lived.

Pandora didn’t know how or by what means the paintings remained, but she found small solace in stroking them now and then.

But she was growing weary.

What good were the drawings if she was stuck in the same day for the rest of her life?

Could she really call this life ‘living’?

‘No.’

Pandora brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

‘I feel like I’m waking up in a grave, banging on the lid of a coffin, hoping someone will hear me.’

You can’t call that life.

Pandora looked around at the wistful paintings and picked up the vial. It was okay if tomorrow never came.

‘But if tomorrow is not going to come, I wish today would not come again either.’

The clear green liquor slid into her mouth. Pandora gulped it down, without taking the bottle from her mouth.

The poison burned her esophagus, and her mouth felt like it was on fire.

The poison came too late.

The vial slipped from her sluggish fingers and crashed downward. With a sharp burst, the shattered vial scattered across the floor.

Pandora closed her eyes and crumbled to the ground.

Suddenly, a hand reached out from nowhere and wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her to her feet.

The man’s bony, hard hand trembled like an aspen tree.

‘Who is it?’

Pandora could smell the stranger’s scent and feel his body heat, and she craved the embrace.

Curious, she wanted to ask who it was, but her tongue wouldn’t move.

‘I’m cold.’

Her whole body was getting cold.

Then, without context, an unusually hot sensation touched her lips. Pandora’s mouth opened and it blew in a rush of hot breath.

‘What the hell, you lunatic.’

Pandora blacked out.

???????? ?? ???

“Good morning, Miss Pandora.”

Her life is ruined.

The world can’t be doing this to her.

Pandora woke up again at 8 a.m. on June 9. This time, she realized that death would not set her free.

She was angry. Her anger rose to the top of her head and she wanted to lash out.

“What the hell do you want from me?

Her anger and excitement were rising, and it was hard to calm down.

“Do you have any pain in your eyes?”

The doctor asked.

“Is your vision any blurrier than it was yesterday?”

The same questions repeated like a set algorithm. Pandora gripped the quilt so tightly that her knuckles stood out white.

“…….”

“Ms. Pandora. I’ll leave your medication here.”

“I don’t need them.”

The doctor’s movements halted as he rummaged through his bag for the vial. But then he pulled it out and set it on the table.

“I’m not taking them, I don’t need them, just sit there for a minute.”

Pandora bit her lip hard.

She didn’t want to be alone, because she felt like she would lose her mind and break everything in this room if she was left alone, because she felt like she would curse and cry and go on a rampage, and because she wanted whoever it was to please see her pain.

But the doctor sitting in the chair next to the bed quickly sat up, as he always did.

“Doctor.”

Pandora called urgently to him. But the doctor’s figure took a step away from her blurry vision.

He had never been one to listen to her. The doctor, the maid, this one, that one, all of them.

Pandora threw the damned vial hard to the ground.

“I don’t need this!”

“…….”

“You could put a hundred pills in me and it wouldn’t make me better or worse!”

Eating poison won’t kill her.

“What’s the use of all this…… things…….”

Like her heart, which was shattered like a bottle of alcohol, she wished the medicine bottle would break as well, but the floor covered entirely with a soft carpet acted safely as a cushion.

Her temper flared again, and tears pooled in her eyes.

The doctor, the vial, her blurry vision, and the pounding headache of stress. Everything was irritating.

Just then, the doctor turned and strode forward.

‘Is he mad at me for yelling? Is he going to hit me?’

Her heart skipped a beat and her shoulders tensed.

But the doctor picked up the vial, knelt down at the foot of the bed, and took Pandora’s hands in his.