The Girlboss Begs For Remarriage

The times were really better now, as tramps in the genuine sense of the word were rare.

"You're not suffering from any disability," Frank pointed out in curiosity. "Why would you rather stay holed up here instead of getting a job and making a living?"

The tramp sat, crossing her legs and pouted as she pointed at her head. "I'd like to make a living too, but I'm suffering from brain damage and can't remember much.

"That's why I'm here, to get some peace and quiet-it's not too late to remember who I am and get a job later on. Moreover, the villagers here are quite charitable, and some of them often drop by to give me food. And since I'm no picky eater, I'd never go hungry."

Frank strode up. "How would you repay me if I restore your memories?"

"You're kidding." The tramp snorted. "My brain has actually retained knowledge on that front, and I know that amnesia is due to damage to the hippocampus. That means the damage is irreversible, and I could only hope for a miracle."

Frank nodded and pointed at his stomach. "I'm hungry. Get me something to eat!"

the statue again before returning with two melon buns, stuffing one

it looks puffed, one could finish it in a couple of mouthfuls. "Did you forget who you are too?" The tramp stared at Frank in curiosity after finishing her melon bun. "The question "Who am I?' is philosophical. Even if my memories are intact,

so profound!" The tramp held a thumbs-up at Frank and passed Frank a bottle of

hall was suddenly clean! "Woah!"

chuckled, shaking his head. "You're imagining things. I'm not them, and I'm far from reaching

nodded blankly and pressed, "Where are

Frank threw her question right back

was injured, and I don't remember anything." Frank nodded. "But like

a chess sat from behind the statue. "Despite my situation people these days are really kind, especially the kids. They're so worried that I can't

set too. Honestly, why do people like them