episode_0008

“Ah…! Here, here you were!”

The woman embraced the child tightly. Even if a stench emanated from his whole body, even if foreign substances dirtied his precious dress, even if it seemed so repulsive that it could potentially carry all sorts of germs, none of that registered in her eyes.

The boy with dark blue hair and distinct features remained nestled against the lady, oblivious to everything. When the guards arrived upon hearing the commotion and attempted to separate them, she instead flared up.

“How dare you lay a hand on my child, my only son! Do you find the House of Vagrande amusing?!”

Clutching the child from the slums, no, rather, as if to never let go, she held him tightly with both arms.

Isabella Vagrande even went as far as to threaten the guards. Her bloodshot eyes were filled with madness.

Up until then, the boy had no understanding of the situation. Upon hearing that he was her son, all he knew was that this woman’s state of mind was peculiar.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? Let’s hurry home, my son.”

Holding his hand firmly, the lady took the beggar boy into the carriage.

Even after getting into the carriage, the attention towards the boy did not wane. Not only did she ask if he was cold and request a blanket, but she also repeatedly caressed his face with warm hands.

The repeated mention of “son” and the gentle touches were beginning to feel somewhat unsettling.

Yet for the boy, who overnight went from being a beggar wandering the slums to an orphan of the heavens, it was an incredibly warm and affectionate treatment. Something he could never have imagined.

That’s how they arrived at the Vagrande estate. It was there that everything began.

“There are no coincidences in life. Our family coming together like this again, it’s surely heaven’s doing. Don’t you think so, my dears?”

The three sisters, who had come out to greet Isabella, were shocked.

“Why do your expressions look like that? Karn, our one and only son has returned to us, living as a nobleman.”

“Mother, why are you like this!”

“What on earth are you talking about? Right now, he, he…!”

“Our younger brother, Karn?”

It was unbelievable to see my mother rejoicing over finding Karn, the one who had gone missing due to an accident, after bringing in some beggar.

“Mother, it seems your state of mind is not quite right at the moment. Perhaps you should rest first. We will talk to this child and send him back.”

All three of us must have had a lot to say.

If there was a common opinion among them, it would be that the beggar was not Karn. Despite the somewhat similar appearance with dark blue-tinted hair and a resemblance to the wall, it was undoubtedly clear that he was completely different from Karn.

Just as Claire and Flora were somewhat relieved when Ariana intervened, I believed that Isabella would soon regain her composure once she was calmed down appropriately.

-Thwack!

“Uh, Mother…?”

However, the two sisters couldn’t help but notice their eldest sister soothing her reddened cheek with her hand, struck by Isabella.

“What do you mean to our little brother, Ariana? He, Karn, has been in that poor place while you’ve been treating him hospitably!”

“Mom! He’s not Karn, is he?!”

“How can you even think he’s our brother! He’s like a completely different version of our brother. He’s just, just a beggar off the street!”

The two sisters tried to defend their eldest sister, who had been slapped, but Isabella scolded them with an angry expression.

Still embracing the boy from the slums, seemingly unaware of where he had been brought from.

“Do you not see this toy?! If he’s not Karn, then no one else would have something like this!!”

The toy Isabella pointed at. It was also a brightly shining carriage-shaped memorial.

The sisters and Isabella continued to argue, but eventually retreated in the face of the resolute attitude of the Lady of the Manor. There was simply no way to deal with their mentally ill mother.

After several repetitions of such scenes, the story skips ahead by several days.

The setting is the manor’s kitchen.

As always, the maids of the manor bustled about when mealtime arrived.

However, despite the bustling activity, there was a lot of discontent evident in the conversations.

“No. Why should we keep such commoners around? It’s one thing if they were ladies, but to waste clothes and blankets on them?”

“Well, what can we do? Everyone probably thinks the same way. But… what are you doing right now?”

“What am I doing? Ruining the food so it tastes bad. Ugh!”

The maid sprinkled an extra pinch of salt onto Karsein’s meal.

“Hey! What if you get caught?”

“What’s there to catch? Just keep quiet, will you?”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

“Geez. You’re not going to run to the master about this now, are you?”

“…As if I would? I also dislike those commoners, obviously.”

Though the fellow maid hesitated for a moment, she soon slyly mixed the sauce, joining in.

Following that, the maids continued to subtly torment her, crying out in injustice, yet one of the daughters skillfully managed to shift the blame onto her instead.

The scenes displayed by the memorial were all there was. Truly, nothing but a sense of misery filled the air.

“Damn.”

The familiarity of the unpleasantness made his teeth grind involuntarily.

A child picked up due to mental illness from outside. The open aversion and disdain of the three sisters. I know this all too well. However, this guy Karsein had to endure even more abuse, facing the full force of the medieval era where nobility still thrived, not in Korea.

Not only his family but even the many servants were his enemies. The three sisters of Viscount Bagrand, who openly displayed hostility towards Karsein, would have completely isolated him, and the servants wouldn’t treat him as a young master either.

Tormenting. Again and again. Whenever there was a chance, he must have cried out against unfair treatment. Until he realized that crying out in injustice only made things worse.

“…”

“Why are you taking so long to choose? What are you dawdling for? Hurry up and pick, Karsein.”

As the memorial ended, Ariana’s chilly urging could be heard.

Right. I have to choose.

[ 1. (While choosing the maid who arrived today) Let her in. ]

[ 2. If everyone dislikes me being here, I might as well not choose anyone. ]

[ 3. (Tossing the documents in Ariana’s face) Hire someone new! Do you think I’ll let the same thing happen to me again? ]

[ 4. If you want to release Camilla from solitary confinement, go ahead. I won’t care. ]

With these options presented, the correct answer is clearly number 4. It was the best course of action to free Camilla from solitary confinement in preparation for Dead Trigger.

However, should I simply resign myself to the idea that the only correct path within this shackle of a system is to move forward?

Certainly not. I must never confine myself to what is deemed the correct choice even within the constraints of these options. I must maximize the variable of being in control of my own body.

Yes. Just like not adding the word “mother” after saying “you’ve suffered.” Ending the conversation with a response as if nothing had happened.

By adhering to the choices but not fully committing to them, I must create even non-existent correct answers for myself.

“What are you trying to do right now?”

“What?”

“You asked me to hire a maid, so why did you give me all the documents? Couldn’t you make a decision?”

“Of course, I heard you well. It’s not like I couldn’t hear when it’s something said right in front of me without stuffing something into my ears.”

“Karceine.”

Ariana’s eyebrows twitched at the mocking response. Just calling her name seemed to exert pressure. It was a subtle reminder not to speak so lightly to someone with an open mouth.

Nevertheless, I continued to stare directly into Ariana’s eyes without flinching, swallowing the words I wanted to say.

“You wouldn’t know. That modest meal saved Karceine, not those luxurious dishes.”

Of course, she wouldn’t. For a noble lady who has never experienced hunger, such knowledge would never enter her mind.

She was so indifferent that she probably feigned indifference by offering poisonous food. If that was the case, I’d rather have her be straightforward about it.

2. “Everyone says they don’t want to serve me? I’d rather not pick anyone.”

“It’s not necessary. No one will choose anyway, can’t you understand?”

No one will choose.

You and the maids are no different. In fact, you’re the ones who offer poison to me.

***

A hastily spoken remark.

Ariana showed a sigh of resignation at my firm decision not to choose any maids.

“Are you being stubborn again? When I come back later, this place will probably be filled with musty mold and dust. Do as you please. I’ll let it slide for a few days.”

Seemingly understanding the future state of my room, she sneered and gathered the maids’ profiles before leaving.

Her attitude of disregarding people to the end was no different from that girl’s.

Well, it’s not entirely untrue.

What can a noble without a single maid do?

She wouldn’t even take care of her own body, let alone cleaning her room or managing her belongings. Especially if she’s someone like Karsein who hasn’t learned anything.

“But I’m not her. You foolish girl.”

Musty mold smell in the room? Dust piled up everywhere?

Don’t make me laugh.

Considering I had prepared to stand alone without any help to escape from that house, such trivial matters are just part of the basics.

Leaving the uneatable breakfast untouched, I rummaged through the wardrobe.

The inside of the wardrobe was as expected.

Products made through Flora’s malice were neatly lined up.

“Wearing this and going to Isabella… Ugh.”

My head involuntarily shook. If Ariana catches me here and hears how I crawled around the house in such rags, she’ll surely scold me.

It’s better to get rid of any evidence that could give her a reason to nag.

For that, I should start with the laundry. By my own hands, of course.

Hand-washing in cold water in winter.

This is quite nostalgic.

I chuckled as I took out all the clothes from the wardrobe and put them in a bag, intending to leave the room.

Just then, the door opened inward instead of outward, and a blonde girl appeared.

“What should we do? This place will soon become nothing but a dusty garbage dump, just as Big Sister predicted.”

I heard a voice wishing for this room to be dirtied since it couldn’t be cleaned, just as predicted by Ariana’s line after the game. Well, whether it’s a voice or a line, the purpose is obvious.

“Camilla looks so pitiful. How could she, a master like you, be unjustly dragged off to solitary confinement? She did nothing wrong.”

Look at that.

She’s deliberately trying to provoke Carcyn while making me angry.

On top of that, she acts as if she’s won and even dares to taunt. It’s really just childish behavior.

There’s no need to deal with that kind of thing. I walked past Flora without saying a word.

“…!”

Flora’s pupils shook in surprise. Maybe she didn’t like the lack of response, but now she decided to speak up.

“What? Where are you going!”

Whether she said it or not, I was just going my own way.

***

“Hey, Carcyn! Where are you going? Answer me!” Flora called out, following me nervously.

By the time she had done so more than ten times, we arrived at the place I wanted to go. It was the laundry area for the maids, as seen on the mini-map.

*Tunk.*

After placing the basket full of clothes down, I picked up the large basin used by the maids.

“What on earth are you doing?”

I’ve received this question several times. Since the constant chirping was annoying, I decided to just tell her.

“You’re going to wash the clothes you’ve dirtied.”

“W-what?”

“Flora, you’re going to wash the clothes you’ve dirtied by ordering the maids.”

When the water had filled up to a certain level, I put all the clothes into the basin at once, lifted up my pants to knee height, and began to stomp on them thoroughly.

At that, Flora’s expression was filled with astonishment. Whether it was due to being taken aback, not understanding why I was doing the laundry, or questioning why a noble was doing laundry with icy water in the middle of winter, I’m not sure.

It was quite a face worth looking at.

As I continued to wring out the water and started hand-washing in the familiar temperature, Flora seemed to have lost her words from that moment on.

Still, the silence didn’t last long.

The one who broke the silence instead of the speechless Flora was,

“You idiot. What are you doing right now?!”

No wonder it was a pink-haired lunatic running towards us, spewing curses in a fit of rage.