The moment I placed my hand on the door, a spell in a woman's voice naturally flowed from my lips. In this world, the magic one can use differs depending on whether it's spoken in a man's voice or a woman's voice. And now, what came from my mouth was unmistakably a spell in a woman's voice. As a child, I was a boy soprano. I was good at singing in a high voice, and I somehow remembered the knack for casting magic with a woman's voice. Never did I think it would come in handy now.

As the spell completed, a door far away slowly creaked open. I had barely a moment to sigh in relief before a cold voice echoed behind me.

"I'll make sure you can never speak again."

It was the witch’s voice. In an instant, I felt a tightening sensation in my throat. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. The witch had cursed me. It seemed she had stolen my voice.

"And while I'm at it, I'll cast a curse so you can't even write."

Her words sent a chill down my spine. The witch had also cursed me so that even if I tried to write, the paper would burn as soon as I touched it. She had already foreseen my attempts to call for help. No matter what I did, there was no way to ask for help.

Despair washed over me as the reality that I couldn't even cry out for help sank in. Desperately, I dashed towards the mansion’s exit, but just as I did, the witch began chanting another spell.

"Catch him. That one."

As if in response to her voice, a large figure appeared before me. He slowly walked toward me, his voice low and menacing.

"Understood, my master."

Fear surged through me. I couldn’t call for help, nor could I scream. The only sound echoing in my mind was the silent scream of terror. My legs were moving as fast as they could, but it still wasn’t enough. Now that I was in a woman’s body, I was painfully aware of my overwhelming weakness.

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As I stepped into the forest, the cold dampness immediately clung to my skin. The dew-soaked leaves shimmered faintly with each subtle movement, casting eerie shadows all around. The wind whispered through the trees in low tones, making it feel as though the forest itself were alive.

I kept running, but each time a branch snapped beneath my feet, my heart skipped a beat. The towering trees loomed like giants, their silent gazes seeming to close in on me. The deeper the darkness grew, the more it felt like something was closing in from the depths of the forest. All I could feel was pure fear and desperation.

"There's no point in running, miss. Stop right there."

The demon’s voice boomed from behind me. I ran with all my might. Each time my legs nearly gave out or my heart threatened to burst, I kept moving forward, only forward. But the forest grew darker and denser, and I had no idea where I was headed. Each time I pushed through the trees, countless branches snagged my clothes, as if they were trying to trap me, saying, "You won’t escape."

"If I get caught here..."

Wrapped in the darkness of the forest, I had only one destination in mind. The secret base where Forte and I played as children. It was the only place I thought I could escape to. I couldn’t stop until I saw the small hut.

Finally, the familiar outline of the hut emerged in the distance. A wave of relief washed over me, but only for a brief moment. I quickly remembered the reality that the pursuers were still close behind. I dashed toward the hut and rushed inside.

I tumbled inside, slamming the door shut behind me and locking it with a rusty padlock. The sound of banging from outside echoed, but for now, I felt a small sense of safety in this temporary haven.

"Light... I need light..."

I reached for the wall, feeling for the old lamp. My fingers trembled slightly as I lit it. A soft glow filled the small hut, casting countless flickering shadows. The air inside was thick with dust, but one thing stood out amid the disarray.

A wooden box sat in the corner, illuminated by the lamp's light. Slowly, I approached and opened the lid. Inside was an unfamiliar instrument—a tenor saxophone.

"This is..."

I recognized this saxophone. It was brought from another world, Japan, by Forte’s father, Akira. And I knew it had been modified by Forte’s mother, Elise, to channel magic through a man's voice.

The door rattled violently again. Time was running out. Before the door could be broken down, I had no choice but to use magic with this saxophone. In the midst of the overwhelming helplessness, a faint glimmer of hope pierced through me.