Ch. 48 - Saying Goodbye to the Past

After calming down, I got back to my tasks. I unplugged my old phone from Little Work Slave. It had served its purpose.

No need to waste more mana on it—electricity came from mana conversion, after all.

With a twinge of nostalgia, I swiped through the phone, muscle memory guiding me to the notes app.

My diary entries stared back at me.

August 25, Sunny 

First time writing a diary…

December 29, Rain 

The counselor called. Thought it was about the makeup exam for the common language, but no…

January 18, Sunny 

The day just slipped by. Everything seemed normal.

11:25 PM 

Done crying. No one saw. Good. Pick myself up and keep going…

October 20, Rain 

Checked the calendar while writing. It’s not right. Today’s my birthday. I should know better than anyone…

…

The entries, scattered and varied, chronicled big and small moments. I was a reincarnator, my mind supposedly mature, but life didn’t care if you were grown or not.

The further I read, the hazier it got. Memory worked that way—painful stuff faded. My brain knew better than my conscious self to let it go.

I loved one line in my diary: 

“I hope future me reads this and has no clue what it’s about. That’d mean I’ve forgotten, right?”

It was true. The diary preserved it all, but my mind had holes where the pain should’ve been.

Sometimes I regretted writing it. Seeing these entries reminded me of the indescribable hurt I couldn’t recall. It was like a chunk of my memory had been carved out.

Peering into that void, I saw nothing. Just endless fear.

“Alright, it’s over,” I muttered.

I scrolled to the first entry. The notes app was a mess—edits sometimes pushed random ones to the top. Didn’t matter. I knew these things happened.

Time’s order didn’t matter anymore. Just the moments did.

Good thing I knew my first entry by heart. It was childish now, but I’d read it the most, so it stayed at the top.

A pop-up asked: Confirm deletion?

I hesitated, then tapped yes.

Whether by slip or sudden resolve, that first deletion forced me to start letting go.

It was inevitable.

I didn’t select all and delete. Instead, I erased each entry one by one.

It wasn’t just deletion—it was revisiting and severing my past life in this world.

With each tap, I felt no attachment. Just lighter, smoother, more at ease.

Until the last one. I paused.

It was almost gone.

So, this was all my life here amounted to? Nothing worth mourning.

I chuckled, deleting the final entry without a care.

Like it never mattered.

I looked up at the ceiling, feeling the villa around me. This was my new home.

Pretty nice.

I reached to shut off the phone, planning to ditch it for good later.

But the screen went black—battery dead.

Guess it was in a hurry to leave me, too. After those calls and scrolling through diaries, plus its leaky battery, no surprise.

“Way to know me,” I muttered to the cellphone. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a grand send-off.”

Back in my room, I tossed the phone on the nightstand. Powerless, it was harmless. Even if someone snooped, the diaries were gone. Nothing to worry about.

I’d cut ties with the past. Sometimes, all it took was a small step—like swapping phones.

I hadn’t planned to go out. A paid half-day off, ruined by all that drama.

I kept telling myself I’d severed the past, but emotions didn’t shift that fast. I’d even downloaded the academy’s food delivery app.

Then, instead of eating, I got the urge to step out. If I was going out, I could eat something good myself.

Screw takeout. I’d treat myself, have fun my way. What couldn’t a great meal fix?

The ones who should stress weren’t me.

At the mirror, I fixed my appearance, checked my clothes. No slip-ups. Then I strolled out, cheerful.

Where to? No clue. No plan.

I’d hit the bus stop and pick a random route.

It was free, after all. I’d hop off at anything interesting, wander till I was tired, then ride again, soaking in the sights. Witch School was huge—every street was a new world to me.

I’d just avoid the areas hit by recent battles. Not sure if some bus routes were still running.

Lucky me, a bus pulled up right as I reached the stop. It was nearly empty, just a few quiet seniors. I felt a bit out of place.

After a while on the bus, I decided to hop off and switch to another one.

No idea where the next stop was, but this road felt familiar.

Then it hit me—this was one of the paths I took during registration.

So much for exploring new places. I’d just circled back to somewhere I knew.

Oh well. It was like I’d surrendered to fate for a moment. Revisiting an old road wasn’t so bad.

Plus, I could scout for a good restaurant to try.

I got off the bus, leaving its quiet vibe behind, and started wandering the street aimlessly.

Even just walking, I felt a rush of freedom—like I’d broken free from my own chains.

I soaked in the newness, greedy for it. I knew I’d get used to this feeling soon enough.

Translator's note: Yes! New life! Get rid of the trash people and things from the past.

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