Became the Villainess’s Guardian

One might wonder, ‘Why donate to an orphanage that engages in child labor?’
But that’s nonsense. This is just a basic skill that every orphanage employs as naturally as breathing.

I myself worked two jobs at a textile factory and a printing press until I was ten years old.
The memories of those times are still vivid.

“I see, this is the level of child rights in Londinium.”

“Edan! The next batch is up! Run over quickly!”

“The harsh conditions make me wish I was dead.”

So it’s not surprising that many in this vast city have tasted the spicy flavor of childhood.
After experiencing all kinds of depravity, it’s not exactly uncommon to end up twisted, unable to resist the temptation of easy money.

At an age when they should be coloring on paper with crayons, they’re instead handling toxic chemicals barehanded at dyeing factories. In such a state, the ones demanding they grow up properly are the ones lacking conscience.

In fact, I can’t really talk when it comes to an unfortunate childhood either.

An orphanage is a place that cares for children without parents.
But this is only from the perspective of a 21st century modern person.

Instead, in this modern fantasy world… orphanages additionally serve as dark employment agencies.
Without any government support, relying 100% on private donations or personal funds, they can’t afford to just sit idle, can they?

And what kind of places can an ordinary unskilled laborer like worker A find employment?
Other than factories, coal mines, or manual labor sites, there’s not much else. It takes going through a second life like me, writhing in agony, to barely escape such a fate.

Of course, even that process wasn’t smooth sailing.

“Kyaaah! My fingers!! My fingers!!”

“Did they get cut off? Please don’t tell me your arm got cut off too! If that happens, we’d have to close the factory for a week!”

“Ah, you’re lucky. Usually the whole wrist gets lopped off, you know. Don’t worry about it. If we stop the bleeding, you’ll be fine soon.”

“More importantly, this won’t interfere with you coming in to work tomorrow, right?”

“Life……”

To raise money for the Royal Academy tickets, I took the highest-paying job I could find, only to lose a couple fingertips.
Of course, eating a loaf of bread made new flesh sprout back like a salamander’s tail, but can you imagine the working conditions for a child not even ten years old if that’s how it was?

Of course, there’s not much revealed about Freugne in many ways. So perhaps the spicy flavor of child labor in Londinium wasn’t the cause of her eventual betrayal of humanity.
She was a character that only left breadcrumbs, with her title of “The Black Veil of the Kingdom” and association with major incidents where she betrayed humanity being about all that was known.

Perhaps simply eating her fill and living a better life from childhood wouldn’t be enough.

‘What if the cause was some particular event that completely changed her life?’
‘Or maybe she just fell into the angst common to middle schoolers and turned evil during puberty?’

No one knows for sure.
So unless I plan to eliminate her altogether, the only option is to observe her up close and provide real-time feedback.

And the easiest way to approach an ordinary girl in an orphanage is…

“Yes, this will do. Thank you for your donation.”

“Not at all.”

Indeed, nothing beats being a regular donor.
Confident in this, I generously donated an amount that wouldn’t be a burden.

“If you don’t mind me asking one thing?”

“Of course, as a donor.”

“By any chance, does the orphanage receive sufficient donations? Enough to operate without issue, I mean.”

Although the orphanage director seemed to try hiding it, I’ve got experience being in an orphanage too.
I learned long ago how to read when outsiders want to hide or showcase certain things.

This place was already in the slums, so there was likely an ample supply of vagrant children, but the facility was far too cramped to accommodate that many.

As expected, the director slightly shook his head.

Just as I thought. Then let me proceed to the next step.

“Director.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“About the girl named Freugne. Could you tell me more about her?”

“She’s an exceptionally bright and kind child, even among her peers. She works hard too; her recent factory job closed down, but she quickly found another.”

“Hmm…..”

“Did I say something rude during our earlier conversation, by any chance-”

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m just curious.”

At any rate, this provided me with an approximate answer.

At least at this point, Freugne is not a budding Black Veil plotting to eventually overthrow the kingdom.
Her innermost thoughts could be different, but from what I could see, her mind seemed sound and her mental state intact.

That means the future can be changed.
I can change her fate of surviving past 30, consorting with demon tribes, scavenging ruins for usable items day by day!

Of course, even without her, the Demon King may still invade, and humanity may end up at a disadvantage to some degree.

“I’ll be visiting often from now on.”

But if I nurture her diligently from a young age, it might just work out somehow.
At the very least, it’s better than doing nothing, right?

Londinium, the capital that absorbed all the wealth of the Glassgow Kingdom, a city also grandly called the center of industry and cutting-edge magic.
Yet even in such a city, there were places called slums or ghettos.

The East End district.
It got this straightforward name for being located at the eastern edge of the city.

Now twelve years old, it was about time for Freugne to start preparing for independence.
As a quasi-laborer of the East End living in the orphanage, she was summoned by the orphanage director for some reason.

Swallowing hard, worried she might be told to leave the orphanage now that she had found a job, the girl timidly opened the director’s door and went in.

“Um, is something the matter?”

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“Huh?”

“Do you know this person by any chance?”

While not common, there were occasional cases of distant relatives belatedly learning about a child left alone in an orphanage and coming to take them in.

“He says he’s a magician who studied electromancy and currently works at Londinium University. His name is Edan.”

However, upon hearing the name and background, Freugne shook her head.
It was a name she had never heard before, and she didn’t even know if she had any relatives.

“Usually when they pinpoint someone like this, it means there’s some connection… Are you sure you’ve never met him before? Not even heard his name?”

“No, I don’t know his face at all.”

“I see? Well, just be prepared anyway.”

The “preparation” here meant to act lively and healthy.
It was an image-making performance to be friendly, smile, and answer any strangers’ questions.

Except for the relatively well-kept first floor that outsiders frequently visited, the rest of the aging facility was cracked and crumbling in many places.
Meals were irregular and insufficient for the number of mouths to feed at the orphanage, so each child’s portion was never very large.

But as long as they at least appeared to be living well, it increased the chances of receiving donations or whatnot.

“Especially you.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what the connection is, but this guest seems to have business with you specifically, so you need to be extra careful. Understand?”

“Of course, Director. This isn’t the first or second time.”

“Good. Maybe you made a good impression when you met him before, but you’ve forgotten.”

Freugne didn’t think her memory was that bad, but instead of arguing, she just nodded.

“You never know. He might even adopt you.”

Honestly, that possibility was almost non-existent.
Why would a highly educated magician go out of his way to this slum, when he could adopt a child from the city center with better schooling?

“Yes, I understand.”

Still, Freugne didn’t raise any objections.
The director disliked being questioned, and more importantly, all she had to do was pretend to be a good girl. It wasn’t that difficult.

Pretending to be an innocent, clueless child was something she had been doing all her life.

After wandering naturally around the open area in front of the orphanage for a while, Freugne turned her head upon hearing her name called.
There stood the magician the director had introduced as Edan.

She wondered if the director’s description had been lacking, which was why she didn’t recognize him, but meeting him in person confirmed he was a complete stranger.
Despite him saying he wanted to meet her, in their ensuing conversation, there were no indications he was a relative or former acquaintance of her parents.

“How did you spend your day today?”

“No difficult tasks at the orphanage or factory?”

“By any chance, have you experienced any changes in your mental state recently?”

“Do you know over 100 species of grasshoppers?”

Although it was more of an investigative Q&A for mental health assessment than a conversation between strangers meeting for the first time, Freugne diligently answered all his questions, following the director’s advice.

She thought her responses were truthful and contained no sensitive information, yet this magician named Edan wore a rather strange expression.

“Ah, there’s one last thing I wanted to ask.”

“What is it?”

“By any chance, in the future… no, never mind.”

He seemed to want to ask something, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, but ended up just leaving an incomprehensible remark about “doing your best from now on” before turning to leave.

Since he never mentioned anything about adoption or being an acquaintance until the end, he must have been a complete stranger.
The question of why this magician came to see her remained unanswered.

Soon after he left the orphanage, the director came over squeezing Freugne’s soft cheeks, saying they had received a donation.
Thanks to that, the bread she received for dinner was 1.5 times larger than usual, while the director patted her head, wondering how she had charmed another donor.

‘…He was a strange person.’

That was Freugne’s first impression of the man named Edan – an inscrutable, suspicious person.