The Man’s 101st Bad Ending

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Translated By Arcane Translations

Translator: FusionX

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She knew something was wrong from the moment she was born.

Anyone but a fool would realize they were different.

She couldn’t understand sadness.

When an attendant cried, she thought they were simply incompetent.

That was why she rarely cried as a child.

As she grew older and gained a semblance of understanding, she stopped crying altogether, following her father’s teachings.

A member of the Taylor family had to be perfect, meticulous in all things.

Crying was a sign of weakness, so she strived to never shed a tear, no matter what.

She didn’t cry when she was beaten, she didn’t cry when she was punished.

While the world seemed to shift around her during those trials, Yuria had stopped caring.

Everything unfolded according to her father’s words.

That was why she became curious about the position of head.

With a single word, she could make things happen, obtain whatever she desired.

While she didn’t believe in God, the head of the family was akin to a deity in its absolute authority.

A position of omniscience and omnipotence.

But her ambition wasn’t overwhelming.

She simply believed that one day, it would be hers.

After all, she had no other siblings.

If no one else was born, the title would naturally pass to her.

Then, Robert was born.

That was when she felt things shift.

It was different now.

The way the attendants looked at her had changed.

This was the significance of being the firstborn.

Within the rigid framework of a conservative noble family, the eldest child was the natural heir.

Yuria wasn’t a fool.

She sensed that Robert’s existence posed a “threat,” and so she began observing him closely.

She didn’t intend to harm him.

She wasn’t planning to eliminate him.

It was just observation.

“…You cry a lot.”

It was understandable when he was a newborn, but Robert continued to cry even as he grew older.

He was completely different from her.

He was ordinary, had no particular talents, and rather than overcoming challenges, he would seek out their mother for comfort.

That was when she realized he wasn’t broken like her.

Yuria couldn’t understand why people cried, so she wanted to learn from Robert.

Did it mean he was in pain?

But she never cried, even when she was hurt.

Then why did he cry over the death of a pet?

Curious, she had killed several of his pets, but still couldn’t comprehend his tears.

She only ended up being scolded by their mother.

It was during those experiments that she realized their mother’s affection was shifting towards Robert.

While in reality, she was simply paying more attention to the younger child, Yuria was deeply displeased.

“He took what was mine.”

She couldn’t understand affection, but the expression her mother wore when looking at Robert was once reserved for her.

It belonged to her, it was hers alone.

Something within her churned, a burning sensation building in her chest.

Was this anger?

Yuria smiled quietly, experiencing this unfamiliar emotion for the first time.

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

While she had become aware of her own emotions, she instinctively understood that she couldn’t express them freely.

Hiding her feelings became second nature.

Perhaps she would only reveal them once their mother was gone.

Knowing her mother’s health was deteriorating, Yuria decided to be a good daughter until her death.

She stopped killing Robert’s pets.

She no longer needed to understand his tears.

She didn’t need to cry to become head.

She wouldn’t stoop to imitating the one who stole her affection.

She would do the opposite of whatever Robert did.

So she waited.

She waited until their mother’s death.

Her illness worsened faster than expected.

Struggling to control the strange impulses she felt whenever Robert cried, Yuria avoided witnessing their mother’s death.

What did it matter if someone lived or died?

She might have cared if it had been someone she cherished, but her mother’s affection had shifted to Robert.

Sniffle…

Robert continued to cry even after their mother’s death.

The attendants comforting him were strange.

She had been taught that crying was wrong, so why were they encouraging his behavior?

Crying was for the weak, for those who couldn’t do their duty.

Yuria rationalized her own actions.

If she could fix her weak brother, surely their deceased mother would approve.

She took Robert’s hand and led him to the basement.

It amused her how excited he was to play with his older sister.

Playing?

Enjoying such trivial things was the problem.

“Sister, what’s this?”

Robert’s innocent question as she tied him to the chair made her chuckle.

He screamed when she ripped out his fingernails, but it was necessary to make him a better person.

Robert’s behavior did improve somewhat.

While he wasn’t completely fixed, he no longer cried at every little thing.

‘He’s getting better.’

While he was still far from perfect, he wasn’t as fragile as before.

But his incompetence remained unchanged.

As she pondered how to address this, she realized that Robert was always surrounded by people.

They called themselves friends, but the attendants who approached him often pitied her brother.

Pity was for the unfortunate, wasn’t it? What was there to pity about Robert?

He was simply being punished for failing to fulfill his duties.

If he couldn’t even endure that, how could he call himself a Taylor?

He didn’t need friends.

They were all tools to be used in the future.

What would happen if he let foolish emotions like friendship get in the way?

So she deliberately drove them away, spreading rumors to isolate Robert from his friends.

“You look upset. Did something happen?”

“…It’s nothing. Just… things happened.”

Whenever she saw Robert’s downcast face, she knew her plan was working.

By this point, Yuria had fully adapted to her role as the Young Lady.

What would happen to Robert if she became head?

She had initially assumed he would be assigned a position under her, but as time passed, she began to see him as a potential threat.

He was pathetic and incompetent, yet people gravitated towards him.

He wasn’t a skilled swordsman, nor was he a brilliant strategist.

So why did he have friends? Why were people starting to sympathize with him?

If those factions grew stronger, they might challenge her authority.

Doubt crept into her heart, tainting her once unwavering certainty about becoming head.

What would Robert do to her if she failed?

“He might kill you. You’ve given him plenty of reasons.”

A noble had said those words.

She couldn’t see his face behind the mask, but Yuria focused on his words, not his identity.

To think that the actions she took to “help” Robert could be used as justification for her own execution…

Her attitude towards him changed.

The concern she once felt for her younger brother vanished, replaced by the fear that he would steal the head position and kill her.

Should she kill him first?

No, there was no need to act so hastily.

Such a move would only weaken her support.

It was better to simply restrict his movements.

She forbade him from leaving the mansion and stripped him of his authority to prevent him from building his own power base.

She felt a sense of relief as she watched him slowly crumble.

Even without the noble’s warning, she had begun to fear Robert.

Even without her intervention, factions were forming around him.

His once timid personality had hardened, and he now seemed like a completely different person.

She heard he had even yelled at the butler.

Robert’s eyes, once so gentle, were now cold and emotionless.

Yuria believed he was breaking, becoming warped like her.

She felt a sense of relief, believing he now understood the nature of their competition for the head position.

Then, Robert spoke.

“I hate you.”

His declaration that he hated her, that he had never felt any affection for her, only elicited a bitter laugh.

His eyes were hollow as they met hers.

What was he thinking?

She pondered this briefly, then dismissed it.

She had been too lenient with him because he was her brother.

No more.

It was then that her obsession with the head position truly began.

If Robert became head, she would be killed.

He had said so himself.

He had even eliminated his own fiancée.

He was different now.

She finally realized the danger when he officially declared his intention to become head.

Her weak, incompetent brother was now a rival, challenging her for the position she believed was rightfully hers.

Of course, she would ultimately be victorious, but things didn’t unfold as smoothly as she had anticipated.

“Sir Lewis has declared his support for the Young Lord-”

“There’s strange activity in the North. It seems Robert Taylor has personally captured Temuzin-”

“The church appears to be supporting Robert Taylor.”

It was ridiculous.

She had been certain she had everything under control.

She had believed everything was proceeding according to her plan.

But somehow, Robert was now holding a knife to her throat.

Everything she had built over the years was crumbling.

“You thought you could achieve something with a measly ten men?”

Where did it all go wrong?

The world, which she had once considered merely flawed, was now completely upside down.

The sky was below.

Her world had been flipped.

As her memories returned, she understood why Robert had suddenly changed.

In her memories, she had successfully suppressed him.

While she was sometimes killed by a crazed Robert, it was always he who ultimately perished.

Robert had failed to change himself in 100 lifetimes, but the 101st Robert had finally succeeded, hadn’t he?

Yuria chuckled softly and looked up at the ceiling.

Duke, Head.

The title she coveted, the position she had come to desperately desire.

The initial jealousy she felt when he stole her mother’s affection had transformed into a ravenous greed.

The tower she had spent years building was collapsing.

The edifice she believed would reach the heavens was crumbling before her eyes.

“Ha.”

She felt something within her crack, then shatter.

Something precious, now gone forever.

She no longer wanted to witness the world from her prison, but her mana-bound body couldn’t even choose death.

-Yuria, my daughter.

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Her mother’s voice echoed in her ears.

She didn’t know why she was only remembering it now, but she understood the root of her feelings for Robert.

It was jealousy.

100 deaths, all stemming from something so trivial.

She couldn’t even laugh.

She was nothing but a puppet now, unable even to smile.

She had no desire to do anything.

She simply wished for a swift death.

She couldn’t face the future that awaited her, couldn’t bear to see someone else occupying the place that should have been hers.

As darkness enveloped the empty basement, the woman tied to the chair continued to stare into the void.

Her once relentless thoughts slowed, then stopped.

Her sharp intellect dulled.

She remembered an attendant she once dismissed.

Incompetent, shedding useless tears.

She had personally ended his life.

Drip.

Drip.

Tears fell from her closed eyes, staining the floor.

Yuria couldn’t accept that she had become less than him.

But time continued to flow.

She closed her eyes, surrendering to the void.

She would remain here, until death finally claimed her.

Her once active mind ground to a halt, her thoughts ceasing.

But Yuria was still in the basement, and she would remain there, forever.

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