Chapter 109
Right after the child disappeared, we heard someone screaming as they ran toward us, so we immediately slipped into a nearby room. Inside that room was a massive portrait of a man in armor.
Blond hair, blue eyes. A man with the perfect appearance of a “knight” you’d expect to see in a fairy tale. Beside him, portraits of the family we had seen so far were hung in a row.
“Crazy, mo–monster, this is insane!”
We heard someone rush past the door. And following behind that…
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
A different sound from the statues’ movements… something heavier. Then came the sound of something being dragged along the ground. A dull object scraping across the floor.
But it wasn’t a wide surface…
At the end of that scraping sound…
“…Ah… where…”
A faint, crawling voice followed. It wasn’t clear. The voice was too quiet, and the footsteps and dragging noise were louder.
“A–Aaaagh!”
Someone screamed in terror, and the heavy footsteps seemed to stop right in front of the door we had entered.
I pressed my back against the door, tense, when suddenly something cut through the air with tremendous force.
Whoosh
And then…
Bang!
The loudest noise I had ever heard tore through my ears. The voice of the person who had been screaming just moments ago was abruptly cut off. Soon after, the sound of footsteps resumed.
Thud
Thud
Thud
“…Where…”
The dragging sound faded away. We held our breath and stayed still until it completely disappeared.
“…That thing.”
As I muttered, Lee Hoin pressed his forehead.
I was certain.
That was the ‘special tagger.’
***
Since we were already here, we searched this room as well. What we found was an item that looked like a small diary.
—
[You have obtained ‘Bernhardt’s Will I’.]
—
The moment I picked it up, its nature became clear. Unlike before, when no information appeared about items.
‘Bernhardt, huh.’
Seems like it’s related to this mansion.
—
[Bernhardt’s Will I ▼]
The world has changed. I had hoped this cliché phrase would not become the first line of my will, and yet…
People are no longer people, and dogs are no longer dogs.
It is not uncommon for people to kill people, but for something that is no longer human to kill a person… that is not such a common sight.
I never imagined that I would leave such a sight to my child.
… I called Ernst. I hear that he is on his way.
I should have them prepare his room again.
I have begun gathering things that may help my child.
Everyone calls me a mad old man clinging to aristocratic hobbies, unable to grasp the situation, but this is undoubtedly necessary for my child and for Ernst.
Everyone says I will meet my own ruin.
I think so as well.
I will be ruined.
But if, at the end of my ruin, my child survives…
Then I will gladly accept that ruin.
—
A new name appeared. Ernst. Bernhardt. Ernst.
Ernst probably isn’t the ‘child’ in this story.
I quietly turned my head. If the nobles in those extravagant portraits were the “master family,” then the child would likely be that small boy.
Then, between that woman and that man, one of them must be Bernhardt.
‘Or it could be a surname.’
More likely, since names attached to mansions are often surnames.
‘A new clue… well. Just Ernst, I guess.’
Ernst’s room?
As I pondered briefly, the door suddenly creaked open.
Lee Hoin immediately grabbed his hammer, and I sharply turned my head as well.
Standing in the doorway was…
“….”
A small child.
A child draped in a white cloth.
The child stared at me blankly.
At that moment, why did my gaze shift to the portrait of the “master family”? The boy in the painting… and the boy before me now.
A boy with the same bright blond hair as in the portrait stood there, covered in a blanket, staring at me with an expressionless face.
—
[Oh dear, I don’t know where to go! Where might the next ‘Bernhardt’s Will’ be?]
[〉 Walk down the hallway.]
[〉 Enter any room.]
—
A choice window appeared at the sudden timing of meeting the boy.
The boy continued blinking.
Then the final option appeared.
—
[〉 Ask the child.]
—
It was telling me to ask that boy.
After a suffocating moment of standoff, I opened my mouth, tilting the ‘Bernhardt’s Will’ in my hand.
“…Is this yours, by any chance?”
He looked about five or six years old. An age where anything owned by his parents would naturally be considered his.
When I asked, the boy stared at me silently, then spoke.
“Idiot.”
An abrupt insult.
“You insane intruder.”
“What?”
“Get out. Out of my house.”
The boy glared at me and spoke in a flat tone.
“Get out, you thief!”
Then he suddenly rushed forward, slammed his head into my solar plexus, and snatched the item from my hand. His round head hit me squarely.
“Ugh….”
—
[Wow, is this where the saying “small but spicy” comes from?]
—
Clutching my aching stomach, I exhaled.
“Hey!”
Startled, Lee Hoin rushed out to grab the boy, but soon returned.
“Damn, why’s that little brat so fast?”
Frowning, he exhaled.
“You okay?”
After catching my breath a few times, I staggered to my feet.
“…Yeah. Did you see where he went?”
“Roughly.”
“…Let’s go.”
For now, it was certain that the boy belonged to the mansion’s master family. He called it “my house.” That made it highly likely that the family in the portrait was indeed ‘Bernhardt.’
Staggering, I stepped outside.
The floor was smeared with unsettling bloodstains.
***
The room the boy had supposedly entered was empty. It was possible someone had gone in and come out already…
I rubbed my stomach and checked the time.
It had just been one hour since the hide-and-seek began. That meant three hours remained.
At that moment, a disembodied ‘adult’ voice echoed from somewhere.
“From now on, the rules will change. The sound of the statues’ footsteps will be slightly reduced. They have learned the concept of ‘sound.’ The statues now listen.”
At that, Lee Hoin let out a hollow laugh and left, saying he’d check another room. I heard him enter the next room.
More urgent than that announcement was the ‘Will’ thing. I searched the room thoroughly.
Then, under the bed, in a pile of dust, I found a notebook.
—
[You have obtained ‘Bernhardt’s Will II’.]
[Bernhardt’s Will II ▼]
Everyone said I was living in a luxurious tomb.
That all of this would eventually become my grave.
Yes, that is not incorrect. However, it will be a slightly different kind of death than they imagine.
Everyone thinks I cannot distinguish between cursed and uncursed things, but I simply do not wish to tell them how to tell the difference.
I can see it. Which things are cursed.
The problem is that I cannot lift the curse…
A priest came and attempted to remove it, but failed every time. Is there another condition required to break the curse?
If removing the curse succeeds, as Ernst said, it could become another stepping stone.
I should leave marks on the cursed equipment. Marks only I can know, only I can see.
The nights grow longer. I am tired, so I will sleep now.
—
Cursed objects have ‘marks.’ This contradicted the information we had received earlier. That said, Bernhardt died because he couldn’t distinguish them… that he didn’t realize it was turning into a dungeon.
But Bernhardt clearly stated he could distinguish them. And he deliberately didn’t reveal that ability to others.
If that’s the case…
‘That information was written from an external perspective.’
This, on the other hand, is Bernhardt’s own account. It’s likely more credible.
There are marks. The key is how to identify them.
‘Only I can see them.’
That line bothered me. Just like how the mansion had changed because of items, how the servants had turned into statues…
Had Bernhardt also become an item? Or something else?
If he truly became an item, then there’s a high chance that another item can distinguish those marks.
…Under the name ‘Bernhardt.’
Thinking that, I turned my head. I needed to organize my thoughts quickly and find the next Will. That would surely make the rest of this game easier.
As I lifted my gaze from the notebook and straightened up…
Something felt strangely noisy, yet silent.
I saw the door Lee Hoin had left open.
And in that doorway…
A statue stood.
Silently.
Watching me.
Perfectly still.
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