The Worst Villain is Actually a Cute Girl

I began organizing my thoughts.

Why had I come to the orphanage?

First, because it didn’t feel right to ignore the effort someone went through to prepare that device for me.

Second, even if I wasn’t sure whether it was genuine or not, disregarding the concern of someone who worried about me didn’t sit well with me.

And third—the biggest reason—was my own curiosity.

Was this truly a place built with goodwill, meant to care for children? Or was it just another orphanage built on hypocrisy and self-interest?

I wanted to see it with my own eyes.

‘Unusual things tend to stand out, don’t they?’

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As I walked through the hallway, the dim lights flickered occasionally. The air was cold against my ankles—probably because the heating wasn’t on.

The wallpaper was old and faded, with tiny cracks forming here and there. Even the floor creaked with an unsettling sound.

I passed by several rooms, stopping to peek inside each one.

The first room I checked was scattered with dolls and toys—things that children would like.