As a Reincarnated NPC, I Want to Live a Peaceful Life - Chapter 6

I moved at a steady pace through the alleyways. With an inexhaustible supply of stamina, I effortlessly leaped over one narrow path after another, darting past countless astonished onlookers. Of course, their amazement wasn’t directed at my endurance—but at my appearance.

Who doesn’t adore a cute girl? That statement might hold truth, but when applied to myself, I couldn’t help but wish for a quick change of skin to live a peaceful life. Yet, this body wasn’t something I’d chosen—it was the result of the system’s reincarnation. Was my rebelliousness doing justice to this vessel?

Since my rebirth, my soul and body had fused seamlessly, as if they’d always been one. Though I sometimes struggled with the sudden physical changes, the flawless compatibility only proved one thing: things would work out eventually… probably.

I ran, and I kept running. Even if my foot caught on a stray stone, it didn’t matter—my excessive strength would just send it flying. My eyes scanned the signs along the alleyways—once, twice, thrice—until, just as I was about to give up, I spotted four familiar characters: [Central Avenue].

I’d made it! I was back. Though I hadn’t been gone long, I’d returned! Oh, right—the gold coins… I halted, patting myself down until I finally fished them out. Still there. At this point, it’d be better to regroup with Nars and brainstorm together. Going solo? No thanks.

The distance was close enough. I snapped my fingers, visualizing the alley’s location in my mind, and teleported there in an instant. A blue ring of light swept from top to bottom, transforming the scenery before me—and just like that, I arrived at the alley where Nars had been… or rather, where she used to be.

The empty alley told me everything. She was gone. Maybe she’d grown tired of me, or maybe a better opportunity had come her way. Whatever the reason, she’d left.

Silent, I stared at the spot where the girl had stood not long ago. My teeth clenched, and a dry, bitter sensation spread through my chest. Pressing a hand against my ribs, I felt them rise and fall rapidly.

What was this feeling? If she was gone, shouldn’t I be relieved? Back to being a lone wolf again? No—I could easily return to [Krof] on my own and reunite with Lady Cleroral. But who was she to me, really? At the end of the day, our relationship was nothing more than that of an adoptive mother and a temporary ward. Three months under her roof—did that make us close? Obviously not.

With Nars gone, there was no reason to linger. I turned and walked toward the alley’s exit, facing the dazzling, grandiose cityscape beyond. My heart remained unmoved.

The shouts of vendors, the laughter of players, the hushed deals in the shadows—none of it concerned me. I strode down the street, enduring countless blatant stares, ignoring every player and NPC who tried to strike up a conversation.

“Hey there, little girl! What’s wrong? Wanna come in for a bit?” The voice belonged to a woman in her twenties, standing at the entrance of a [Cafe]. I initially ignored her, but then I reconsidered—my stomach did need filling.

I turned to meet her gaze, my sky-blue hair and golden eyes fully exposed to her. Ignoring her stunned expression, I stepped inside.

In medieval settings, commercial buildings weren’t usually extravagant—taverns, inns, weapon shops, and the like. But this was a game, and things were different.

The developers had to make money, so they’d designed plenty of eye-catching specialty shops. As for this [Cafe]…

Only after sitting down did I realize the clientele consisted almost entirely of portly, grinning middle-aged men, while the servers were, naturally, maid NPCs.

Ah. A maid café. No wonder it was a special establishment.

I grimaced, choosing a corner seat and picking up the menu—only to remember this was a café, not a restaurant. How was I supposed to fill my stomach here?

“Hi there, young lady! What would you like to order?” Almost instantly, a maid noticed me holding the menu and scurried over, bowing with a practiced smile. Their enthusiasm seemed genuine—they clearly enjoyed their work.

After a brief pause, I pointed to the most cost-effective items on the menu—a small cake and a black coffee. While flavor mattered for hunger restoration, I was nearly broke. Who knew when I’d need money next? Better to save where I could. Yet even these two items cost me 8 silver coins.

…..

(—Current Public Intel: For easier carrying, currencies are divided into tiers with varying values, listed from highest to lowest:)

(—Magic Stones : Platinum Coins : Gold Coins : Silver Coins : Iron Coins : Copper Coins. Exchange rate is 1:10. Note: 1 Magic Stone = 10 Platinum Coins, but 10 Platinum Coins ≠ 1 Magic Stone.)

…..

Damn capitalist exploitation. Had prices secretly inflated?

Soon, a tiny cake and a cup of black coffee were placed on the ornate wooden table before me. The maid bowed, wishing me a pleasant meal.

I handed her a gold coin, and she promptly returned two silver coins as change before retreating with practiced grace.

I stared silently, willing her to turn away. I wasn’t some refined noblewoman—I cared about efficiency, not etiquette.

The maid nodded and rejoined her orderly line. Seizing the moment, I shoveled the cake into my bottomless maw and sipped the coffee slowly.

I drank it black simply because I disliked overly sweet things—or rather, extreme flavors in general. Too sweet, too salty, too spicy—all unacceptable. Over time, my palate had adapted to prefer the mild and plain.

“So, little girl… how was it?” The woman from earlier—likely the owner—approached, her player tag visible above her head. She studied me with a warm smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

I nodded and stood to leave—only for her to gently grab my wrist, her smile twisting into something unsettling.

“No need to rush off. Mind if I ask… how old are you?”

Her voice carried a hypnotic lilt, as if trying to worm into my mind. Sensing the danger, I yanked my hand free and strode out, the café bell jingling behind me.

Disgusting. That woman—that player—had tried to use [Mind Control]. Though it was a slow-acting spell, in a café setting, no one would bat an eye if a woman interacted with a lone girl.

I’d been wrong. Those maids weren’t working voluntarily—they were puppets, their minds enslaved for others’ amusement.

This game world… it was too much like a real fantasy realm. Strip away the players’ identities, and the NPCs’ roleplaying was alarmingly lifelike. A parallel world driven by profit and intrigue, brimming with wonders…

And horrors.

I exhaled deeply. After confirming my remaining coins, I headed for the city gates—only to collide with someone. I barely budged, but the other person tumbled to the ground, clutching their forehead in pain.

Black hair, a short dagger at her waist, no player tag. Her delicate features didn’t match her stats, and she was shorter than me. (Note: Shirin’s height: 150 cm.)

“Don’t touch me!” I reached out to help her up, but she recoiled, scrambling to her feet before vanishing into the alley.

“Weird kid…”

Sighing, I resumed walking—only to pause when my hand brushed my waist. My coins… where were they?

I was certain I hadn’t left them at the café. Even if I had, I wasn’t going back. They had to be on me, yet my pockets were empty. I hadn’t carelessly misplaced them like Nars… Ugh, why was I thinking about her again?

Had that kid stolen them? She was the only one who’d made physical contact. Time to track her down.

…..

The alley walls blurred past as the girl sprinted, her speed unwavering. With keen perception and nimble agility, she scaled low walls, leaped over trash piles, and weaved through the labyrinthine alleys.

“Hah… hah… Did I lose her?” Panting, she glanced back repeatedly, confirming no pursuit before finally stopping to catch her breath.

She checked her spoils, guilt gnawing at her. If not for the bounty on her head, she’d never have resorted to theft.

“Why… why has it come to this? Shouldn’t all races coexist peacefully? Why are we the ones hunted, traded like commodities?”

In her distress, her concealing hair slipped, revealing slender, pointed ears—their tips lined with visible veins, a sign of heightened sensitivity.

An elf.

Historically, elves had been a widespread race until war with humans led to their crushing defeat. Their ancestral World Tree was burned, male elves slaughtered, and females captured as servants—or pets.

Elves were artists, noble, wise, and beautiful. Many lived for centuries (average lifespan: 700 years), which was precisely why humans sought them—to study their longevity.

Startled, the girl quickly readjusted her hair, hiding her ears again before slipping past crowded streets.

Since birth, she’d never known “family.” Snatched by mercenaries, she was auctioned off to a noble household, where life was… tolerable.

Until the day she learned of her impending “contract.” Panicked, she fled the night before it was to be signed.

Now, “adventurers” across the realm hunted her. Fear and flight had defined her “childhood”—eight in-game years of ceaseless pursuit.

Shaking her head, she forced away the memories and pressed on—only to freeze at a familiar voice.

“Hey, kid. No small talk. Hand over my money.” The girl from earlier stood before her, materializing out of nowhere. The elf bolted—but her body locked mid-air. Though her limbs flailed, she couldn’t move, as if gripped by an invisible force. No wind magic, no spells—just empty air.

Terrified, she twisted to see the girl glowing faintly… before being yanked backward by an unseen hand.

…..

I watched the struggling elf, pity flickering in my chest. But reasons didn’t matter—she was returning my money.

[Telekinesis] + [Soul Vision] made it easy to lock onto and restrain her.

“Look, I need that money. Give it back.” When she stayed silent, I reached to search her myself.

Pouch after pouch—books, ink, quills, loose change (not mine), a leaf, a dented tin box stained with grime… But where were my coins?

The elf watched nervously, hands clamped over her ears like a victim.

“…Found it? Can I go?”

As if I’d harm her. I shook my head, but she fidgeted anxiously. Then I noticed her hand inching toward her dagger.

“Try it. See how that works out for you.”

“…!”

Defeated, she slumped. I resumed searching—I’d marked those coins.

Then—voices.

“Hey! The brat’s around here! The bounty’s still active!”

The elf flinched, clutching my arm, trembling. Prey seeking protection—instinctive. Something was very off about her.

Two armed adventurers rounded the corner.

“Kid, seen a black-haired girl, thief type?”

I pointed vaguely. They exchanged glances, thanked me, and left.

Meanwhile, the thief was right beside me, cloaked by [Universal Concealment]. Only high-level assassins or [True Sight] mages could spot her now.

Once safe, I pinned her to the wall, locking eyes.

“Who are you? Why are adventurers after you? Do you want to die a thief?”

She stared back, conflicted, before finally pushing me away—and sweeping her hair aside to reveal her ears.

They twitched faintly.

I wasn’t surprised. It explained her disproportionate stats. But elves were nearly extinct—how had a child like her survived this long?

Under my gaze, her ears twitched faster. If nobles caught her, she’d end up in some dungeon by dawn.

“I—”

“Please… don’t turn me in… sniff…”

Her trembling voice was mesmerizing—good thing I was an emotionally detached NPC.

Then, I made what might’ve been a stupid decision:

“Keep the money. Just stop stealing—and running.”