The Slime Doesn't Die from Mana Transfer

Chapter 72 : Not Really Robbery

“So, you’re really not the Seventh Princess?”

In a deserted alleyway.

Winnie stared hard at that familiar face in front of her, brow furrowed, pressing for an answer.

She had only taken a glance while walking down the street.

But since she was extremely familiar with Rozelite, Winnie had immediately sensed her identity and had chased her down without hesitation.

When confronted by Winnie, Rozelite’s first instinct had been to run, but after a moment of thought, she realized there was no need.

If Winnie wanted to report her, then unless she fled the city at once, running now was meaningless. But if Winnie was only here to press for answers, then Rozelite also had nothing to worry about—after all, she was the Seventh Princess. What was there to fear?

Even in the worst case—

If Winnie decided to attack her on the spot—

The current Rozelite still had no reason to be afraid.

“Hey, answer me!”

Winnie stepped closer, grabbing Rozelite by the collar, and demanded sharply.

“Who exactly are you? Why did you pretend to be the Seventh Princess before?”

“...I wasn’t pretending.”

Rozelite pressed down on Winnie’s hand and said calmly.

“I am the real Seventh Princess.”

“Then why did you run?”

“If I didn’t run, should I have just stood there waiting to be slaughtered? Or would it have been better to kill everyone on the spot?”

“You could’ve explained yourself clearly!”

“How could I explain? What’s the point of explaining to him? In fact, I’d like Mr. Clayman to explain to me who exactly said I was a fake princess.”

Even clay figurines had a temper.

After being pressed repeatedly by Winnie, Rozelite couldn’t help but feel her irritation rise.

She slapped Winnie’s hand away and said bluntly.

“Miss Winnie, you once guided me in swordsmanship and I owe you for that, which is why I’m even telling you all this. But don’t misunderstand—I’ve never lied. I am the Seventh Princess, Rozelite Othinus.”

But true things remained true, and false things remained false.

Russell’s words echoed in Rozelite’s heart.

The truth would not become false simply because one refused to argue, and a lie would not become truth no matter how many times it was repeated.

What mattered was how one saw oneself.

“...”

Winnie’s expression grew complicated as she looked at Rozelite.

Honestly speaking, whether this girl was the Seventh Princess or not shouldn’t really concern her.

But she hated the feeling of betrayal and being lied to.

That was why she had to get an answer from Rozelite—she needed Rozelite to tell her face-to-face.

Yet Rozelite neither wanted to, nor could she prove anything.

“I don’t know why Mr. Clayman would say I’m a fake princess. Maybe he lied, or maybe he was deceived himself. But I won’t waste time doing meaningless things like trying to explain or prove myself. I just want to return and see with my own eyes what really happened—that’s all.”

Rozelite said.

“...You really seem different now.”

Winnie said with a complicated tone.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve grown.”

Rozelite replied.

This too was something Slime had taught her.

Proving your innocence to those who slandered you was pointless. Because those who slandered you knew better than anyone else that you were innocent.

Reality didn’t follow logic.

Try to explain reality with logic, and you’d only end up finding holes everywhere.

That was why one should never fall into the trap of self-justification.

Don’t waste energy clarifying. Don’t exhaust yourself trying to explain.

Find the one who slandered you—and kill them. Then all problems would be solved.

“That’s all I have to say, Miss Winnie.”

Rozelite looked Winnie straight in the eye and said seriously.

“Whether you believe me or decide to report me doesn’t matter. I won’t resent you. But one day, the truth will come to light. When that day comes, Miss Winnie, let’s get along just like before.”

Having said that, she turned to leave without waiting for a reply.

But just as she reached the corner of the alley—

Winnie finally couldn’t hold back and called out.

“Wait!”

“What is it, Miss Winnie?”

Rozelite turned her head.

“...Sorry. My tone just now was too harsh.”

Winnie took a deep breath, forcing down her frustration.

She knew she had been a little presumptuous. She had also never expected Rozelite to respond with such an attitude. In her mind, Rozelite should have either argued vehemently to prove her identity, begged her forgiveness through tears, or simply run away.

She never imagined Rozelite wouldn’t even bother to explain.

It was as if she were saying “I don’t care.”

“If you’re too lazy to explain yourself, then let’s change the subject.”

Winnie pointed toward the entrance of the alley.

“Why don’t we go somewhere to sit and talk? We’re old acquaintances after all—no need for all this hostility.”

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about, unless...”

“Unless what?”

“Unless Miss Winnie is willing to treat me to a meal!”

“...Fine. Let’s go.”

“Great!”

Rozelite nodded without hesitation.

Newcomer Winnie let out a sigh of relief, thinking Rozelite had just given her a way to step back gracefully.

But soon, she found herself paying dearly for her promise.

The tavern across from the Adventurer’s Guild was packed.

This was one of the most popular places in Flemont. Even outside of mealtimes, people came in to drink beer and chat the hours away. Regulars often said that while the food here was expensive, it was definitely worth it.

Winnie sat dumbfounded, staring at the stack of plates piled more than a meter high on the table, while across from her Rozelite was still devouring food without pause.

For a moment, it all felt surreal.

She never imagined Rozelite could eat this much.

Wait—

Where was all that food going?!

Winnie’s eyes were locked on Rozelite’s stomach, which remained perfectly flat without an ounce of fat, even though she had just watched her chug down an entire mug of beer. Her belly hadn’t bulged in the slightest—it was like she had a pocket dimension inside her.

“Heavens, this is so delicious.”

Rozelite had long abandoned all royal etiquette, holding a smoked pork knuckle in her left hand and a piece of bread dripping with gravy in her right, eating with her face covered in oil, oblivious to the world.

“Miss Winnie, aren’t you going to eat more?”

“I... I don’t have an appetite...”

Winnie rubbed her temples, wondering what kind of life this child had been living...

At that moment, the tavern server handed them the bill.

Winnie glanced at it—and froze.

“Wait a second... two silver coins for a piece of bread, five silver coins for a single pork knuckle? Are you insane? This isn’t a tavern, this is outright robbery!”

The server smiled faintly.

“Not really robbery.”