Of course, Johan had left no evidence, but rumors still spread around the school. Steven hadn't exactly hidden the fact that he was going to beat me up. Now he was unconscious and in the hospital with his entire group.

Some people were saying I must have ties with the Mafia or something. Well, it wasn't too far off. Samara probably had her well-founded suspicions but, to my gratitude, she kept her mouth shut.

"Isn't that too much? All they did was injure me slightly."

"And all I did was injure them slightly."

"I think it should be considered disproportionate retribution. That's supposed to be wrong."

"Didn't we agree that I would be the final arbitrator for morality? You can't even feel bad about it, so I'm not sure what your problem is," Johan said, "I say it's right to protect my little brother, no matter what I have to do."

I nodded. It wasn't a consistent philosophy, but the 'right thing' is frequently a matter of subjective judgement. I didn't have the necessary intuitions to make those judgements, so it made sense to me to trust the one who did.

A day had passed since the incident. Johan and I were doing our normal morning practice. We'd get up at five to do it before I left for school.

This morning we were sparring. We used to practice together because we needed to be strong, but now it was just for the enjoyment of it.

My hand was in a splint. Since it was for fun, Johan didn't take advantage of that.

Think of it like joining a MMA studio. We were both well trained and extremely skilled. It's good to exercise and have a hobby.

I liked it more than soccer, anyway. Each to their own.

For afterschool activities, I had decided to try the drama club. They were going to put on Macbeth and were currently holding auditions.

They were having us read one of Macbeth's famous monologues. He was whining about how bad he felt after betraying his king.

I didn't really get it. Still, I heard somewhere that acting was about lying, so that shouldn't be an excuse for me to do a bad job.

There weren't many people I had encountered in life who were properly displaying guilt, but I remembered this one guy we had caught escaping after he left his subordinates to die.

I tried to recall his face. His manner could probably be best approximated as a mixture of anger, pain, self-hatred, fear, regret, and denial.

I'd have to wing it for the denial, but the rest I knew well enough.

It was the feeling of being at the mercy of some greater force, unable to do anything as I was swept through paths of knife-sharp rocks.

It was the feeling of being beaten, on the ground, willing to do anything to burn the twisted smiles off the faces of the ones who put me there.

It was also the feeling of wishing I could turn back time as I waited outside the treatment room, not knowing whether my brother would live or die because of my mistakes.

"Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?"

I must've hit an interesting blend, because they cast me as Lady Macbeth.

Wearing drag, in good Victorian tradition, I might add.

The irony of me playing a character who killed themselves out of guilt once they stopped being able to repress it did not escape me.

I thought it was an interesting challenge.

Macbeth was being played by the president of the club, a guy named Thomas.

He was a helpful guy. We'd practice our scenes and he'd give me feedback.

"You should probably emphasize more the forceful elements of her personality. Remember, she was defying her own nature to achieve her ambitions."

I nodded.

Eventually I could, in my opinion, put on quite the convincing performance as the murderous woman who failed to escape her own mental weakness.

Johan, Maria, and Samara all attended our premiere.

I took Lady Macbeth through her initial stages as the one dragging her husband into a life of crime. Eventually, we got to my favorite part.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?"

The line was delivered with a calmness that my 'Lady Macbeth' clung to as she tried to bury her pain and fear. Then, as the scene continued, the determined facade collapsed as she thought of her own crimes and her inability to ever be free of them.

It wasn't hard for me to think of the smell of blood, imagine being covered in it, unable to scrub it out.

"Here's the smell of blood still," I continued, full of a curious sort of acceptance and despair.

My eyes scanned the audience. It was only for an instant, but I saw Johan staring at me.

He looked as if someone were holding him down, cutting his chest open.

Come to think of it, he was probably dealing with a lot of issues I was spared from by my lack of empathy.

I wasn't worried, though. He was far stronger than some character like Lady Macbeth. He would never break so easily.

Otherwise, he would've broken long ago.

We put on the production a few more times. After the last one, most of us in the club got dinner to celebrate.

It turned out Thomas was really into chess. We played some after a wee bit of underage drinking and he kept on winning.

Somehow, I was starting to enjoy being around other people.

I got back late that night, mildly tipsy. My brother was still awake, waiting for me at home.

"Is it okay for me to be alive?" I asked.

He hugged me, unfazed by the seemingly random question.

"Of course it's okay. You being alive is more important than anything."

"Even after what we did? If you say so, I'll believe it, but it strikes me as unjust."

"We can't change the past, so don't think about it. What matters is that we're alive now. We're going to be fine."

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I could still feel the lingering warmth of that time. Despite the impossibility of bringing back what was lost, I didn't want to just forget everything.

It brought me peace.

As I was lost in thought, I heard my door creak open.

The shipping company owners' daughter was standing there in a dress that barely covered her chest.

Was a simple moment to myself too fucking much to ask for?

I clung to the hope that she was a groundbreaker on the fashion scene who was making a bold statement about body positivity.

Based on how nervous she looked, however, I doubted it.

"So, uhh..."

"What is it?"

"My father wanted to speak with you. Would you please come with me?" She blushed.

I was staying at his house, so I followed her.

Her father informed me that given the situation where all his daughter's guards were killed in an apparent bandit attack, her virginity would come into question.

"That has nothing to do with me. Just get her to testify."

"They'll say memory altering magic might have been used. She'll never be able to shake the image of a tainted woman."

"First of all, thank you for inviting me, but I don't see how this is my issue. Secondly, you could afford any high class prostitute in the nation ten times over with the amount of money required to do illegal memory modification like that. There would be no reason to go to those lengths to rape her in particular. It doesn't even make sense."

This smelled of bullshit. Did he think I was stupid?

He just smiled at me indulgently.

"Even if it's unreasonable, people will still slander her like that. Aurora, come over here and pour Clarence a drink."

She did so, leaning over in a way that let me see pretty much everything. She seemed really uncomfortable, but her father nodded and patted her on the back.

"You see," he continued, "As the person who saved her, you are also one of the people who others will suspect of having taken my daughter's honor. A skillful male mage was alone with her in the woods for several hours, after all. Of course, I personally believe you, but don't you think you should take some responsibility?"

No.

I did not think I should take some 'responsibility'. This motherfucker.

"Responsibility for what? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Would you prefer it if I left her to die? I think I already did you enough favors."

I started to stand up. Conveniently wealthy family or not, my shit tolerance was starting to bottom out and this really wasn't worth the effort.

"Wait, I'm sorry. That was out of line. You can stay here. I won't mention this again."

He seemed to be sincere and he didn't have any murderous intent.

I didn't have another place to stay, and I did just save his daughter, so I accepted his apology.

I did, however, plan to switch to my moderate-danger alarm spell setup for the night.

Unfortunately, after getting back to my room, I didn't get the chance to do that before I smelled something faint and medicinal.

My blood started to flow faster and my breathing sped up. I was filled with feeling that I would find engaging in questionable acts to be extremely pleasurable at the moment.

I raised an eyebrow. I was fairly well-defended against drugs and poisons, so whatever this was must have been incredibly potent.

It was probably extremely expensive. As expected from a major shipping company.

I could feel my rationality beginning to slip away, subordinating itself to base impulses.

I forcefully held on to reason, bleeding from the strain.

Then the door opened and Aurora came in, still wearing that same outfit, carrying a tray with food. After drugging me and sending her in dressed like that, her father's intentions were obvious.

"Sorry to bother you, but my father sent me to bring you these."

Then she saw the state I was in and looked alarmed.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, Aurora, perfect timing. I do happen to be having a small issue, but it should be fine."

I did my best to say it in a conversational tone. Judging my her expression, I failed dramatically.

Well, you can't win them all.

"Would you mind taking me to your father? There are some matters I would love to discuss with him."

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It was hard finding people who were willing to help one assassinate the ruler of the Kingdom of Iron. However, it wasn't impossible, and Johan was good at finding people.

"Therefore, we have three main issues to deal with. The first is the people the king has to guard him, the second is the royal artifacts, and the third is location-based formations. What do you think, Boss?"

A room of people with their faces hidden were listening to a man in a beastial mask give a presentation.

"I agree," Johan said, "For the moment, we should divide our forces into groups to gather information on each of these areas. The newly developed anti-magic formations developed by the Iron Kingdom should be extremely useful; we should also look into obtaining them."

He was wearing a featureless black mask. Next to him, a masked woman with visible long hair and a curvaceous body was touching his arm.

"Boss, can I please be on the artifact research team? The others seem really dangerous, and I don't want to get hurt," she said in a spoiled tone.

In one smooth motion, Johan manifested a mana blade and sliced through her neck.

"Anyone else not want to get hurt?"

The room was silent.