Kaya stared at the diary for a brief second before grabbing it and hurling it straight at the wall.
Damn.
It struck hard enough that a small crack bloomed across the surface—God knows how a stupid book managed that. She didn't flinch. She only looked at it with pure, unfiltered hatred before brushing the dust from her hands, as if touching it for even a moment had contaminated her.
She couldn't believe she had wasted so much time reading this crap.
Yes—crap. Absolute nonsense. From start to finish, it felt like something scribbled by an obsessed otaku or a delusional novelist trying too hard to sound profound. To hell with it.
Ever since she came here, she'd been forced to listen to the same story over and over again. Different mouths, different tones—but always the same core. Thousands would be an exaggeration… fine. Four or five times. Still unbearable. And every version twisted itself just enough to pretend it was new.
She was already sick of it.
