The Abandoned Saint Became the Snack Attendant for the Childish Demon King – Chapter 3

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬

The option to return to the village has completely disappeared.

In that case, there is no choice but to live somewhere with the money on hand, without returning to the village.

However, there are no connections that would accept me as an Apprentice Saint. It might be better to give up on being a Saint and find another job, but Jude is in the royal capital, where the most jobs are available.

I don’t want to see his face smiling happily as he marries the princess every day. Besides, there will be a victory parade soon.

Is there any good place? Ideally, a place where I won’t be judged for being unmarried, and even better if it’s a place where I can’t easily return to the village. I have no complaints if the salary is not low and they can employ me for a longer period of time.

On the way back to the church, I also visited the job placement office, but they only seem to want male workers.

Even though we have established a coexistence with demons, there have been many places affected in these three years. It’s inevitable that physical strength and stamina are valued in the restoration work.

There are recruitment notices for Wizards who can use recovery magic and Apprentice Saints, but all of them require the ability to use wide-range magic.

Even though I have magical power, I can’t use it skillfully. At most, I can apply physical enhancement magic to towels or create healing potions. But those places already have people who can use healing magic, so they don’t need me.

This is the difference between being a Saint and an Apprentice Saint.

“Work, work. . .”

Muttering to myself, I also looked at the recruitment notices, but there doesn’t seem to be any good places. Before I knew it, I had returned to the church. 

With a sigh, I head towards the dormitory where the Apprentice Saints live. But if I return like this, it will be obvious that I was rejected. I don’t want to complain to the girls who supported me.

Just before reaching the dormitory, I slightly change my destination and crouch behind a building. I slap my cheeks lightly, lift the corners of my mouth with my fingertips, and force a smile.

I’m good at smiling. Because Jude told me that he likes it when I smile.

For these three years, I have overcome sad moments with the smile he said he likes. But all that effort was in vain. I playfully manipulate my face, thinking about him and making a frustrated expression.

“I’m a happy girl meeting her lover after a long time.”

If I keep repeating that I’m happy, the smile gradually comes naturally. If I check in the window, my expression is fine. I fix my slightly disheveled hair with a comb, lightly brush off the dust on my hem, and confidently head towards the dormitory.

As expected, the girls in the nearby rooms ask me, “How did it go?” I can’t imagine that they would think a girl who keeps smiling has been abandoned by the hero. I skillfully dodge the question and continue to smile, and they bless me with “Be happy!”

I feel like I’m an actress on stage. An actress must not detach from her role until the curtain falls. I plaster a smile on my face and radiate a happy aura within the dormitory. And as soon as I close the door to my room, the mask falls off.

I remove my makeup.

Untie my hair.

Take off my dress.

Looking at my usual self reflected in the mirror, tears overflow.

I remembered that this was not the first time I saw my miserable self through the mirror. 

“I. . .I died back then. . .Even if I’m reborn, being abandoned by my childhood friend, it’s ridiculous.”

The hair color, eye color, and even the face are completely different. But the reflection in the mirror now, both from the time I lived in Japan and the present, belongs to me. I must have died and been reborn.

Not in the same world, but in a world where magic exists—a different world.

It has been over twenty years since I was born in this world, but I have never had an opportunity to recall memories from my past life. Perhaps I would have lived my whole life without remembering. But now, I have found a trigger to remember.

Being abandoned by my childhood friend. And seeing my abandoned self through the mirror. These two must have triggered the memories of my past life.

In my past life, I was about to get married. The partner was my childhood friend, one year older than me. The venue was reserved, and of course, the ring and dress were decided. We sent invitations to each other’s relatives, friends, and acquaintances, and in one month, we were supposed to become a loving couple and a family.

However, when I went shopping, I saw him walking arm in arm with a girl I didn’t know. It looked like they were a couple to anyone who saw them. So, I confronted him and was easily abandoned.

Without a single word of explanation, all he said was, “It’s too much trouble.” He easily shook off my clinging arm, and a large stain appeared on the clothes I had just bought.

Come to think of it, the outfit I wore at that time was also a floral dress. 

I cried in my apartment, living alone, not only sad but also filled with regret. I shed so many tears that a towel couldn’t absorb them all. It seemed that there were several phone calls, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer and turned off the power.

I finally calmed down when the dark room was illuminated by the morning sun. I stood up, realizing that so much time had passed, and looked at myself in the mirror. My makeup was smudged with tears, and my eyes were the worst. On top of that, they were swollen.

There I was, looking so ugly that I might be at the lowest point in my life.

After removing my makeup and taking a shower to freshen up a bit, I grabbed my wallet, thinking of indulging in some comfort eating. Maybe I should make a super elaborate dish as a way to relieve stress! I was getting excited about it when a truck crashed into me.

𝐓𝐋: 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤-𝐬𝐚𝐧?!

I must have died at that time. It was probably instant death, as there was no physical pain or discomfort. However, I vividly remember the chest pain that must have triggered the recollection of my past life. 

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