Chapter 8

“Ah…! Here, here it is!”

The woman tightly embraced the child. Even if the child was emitting a foul odor, even if the foreign substances on the child’s clothes were dirtying her precious dress, even if the condition was so terrible that all sorts of diseases could be transmitted, none of these things entered her mind.

The child, with his bluish-black hair and distinct blue eyes, was being held by the lady without understanding what was happening. When the guards came and tried to dissuade her, she only grew more enraged.

“Where do you dare to lay a hand on my child, my only son! Do you think lightly of the Bargrand Duke House?!”

Hugging the child from the slums, no, rather hugging him tightly as if to never let him go.

Isabella Bargrand even scolded the guards. Her bloodshot eyes were filled with madness.

Until then, the boy didn’t understand at all what was going on. Hearing that he was her son, he only knew that this woman’s mental state was abnormal.

“You’ve had a hard time, haven’t you? Let’s go home quickly, my son.”

Holding his hand tightly, the lady brought the beggar boy, who was actually a girl, into the carriage.

Even after getting into the carriage, her concern for the child did not cease. She asked for a blanket saying she was cold, and with warm hands, she stroked his face several times.

Repeatedly calling him her son and touching his body made her seem increasingly frightening.

But for the orphan who had become a beggar in the slums overnight, this was an incredibly warm and kind treatment. There was no way she could reject it.

Arriving at the Bargrand Duke House, everything began there.

“What a slope! Our family is reunited like this. It must be heaven’s will. Don’t you agree, kids?”

The three sisters who had come out to meet and wait for Isabella were shocked at the scene.

“Why are your faces like that? Carla, our only son has survived and returned to the Duke House.”

“Mother, why are you like this!”

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

“Our younger brother, Carla?”

Seeing their mother happily welcoming the beggar as if she found her missing son, the eldest sister couldn’t help but feel a chill.

“Mother. Your mental state seems unstable right now. Maybe you should rest. We can send this child back properly.”

All three had a lot to say.

They all agreed that this beggar wasn’t Carla. Although the beggar had bluish-black hair and striking blue eyes, which made them look somewhat similar, they were clearly different individuals overall.

Just as Ariana took the lead, making Clare and Flora feel slightly relieved, they believed that if they handled it appropriately, Isabella would soon regain her senses.

“Zaaack!”

“Ugh, what…?”

However, the two sisters saw their eldest sister rubbing her red cheek, which Isabella had hit.

“What kind of words are those to your younger brother, Ariana? This child, Carla, was in such a harsh place while you all enjoyed yourselves!”

“Mother! He isn’t Carla!”

“How does he resemble our brother at all! He’s nothing like our brother. He’s just a beggar on the street!”

Though the two sisters protested, defending their eldest sister who had been slapped, Isabella glared at them with a furious expression, still holding the poor boy from the slums.

“Don’t you see this toy? If it’s not Carla, then no one else could have this toy!!”

The toy Isabella pointed to was a brightly shining memorial in the shape of a carriage.

Though the sisters and Isabella continued to argue, they eventually backed down due to the firm attitude of the Duchess. There was no way to deal with their mentally ill mother.

After several repetitions of such scenes, the memorial jumped forward several days.

The setting was the Duke House kitchen.

As always, the Duke House maids moved busily during mealtime.

However, despite their busy movements, there was a lot of discontent in their conversations.

“Seriously, why do we have to take in such a commoner? It’s a pity, especially if it’s the young ladies.”

“What can we do? Everyone thinks the same. But… what are you doing?”

“What do you mean? I’m just making the food taste bad by adding too much salt.”

“Hmm, true.”

“Come on, don’t you think it’s too late to suck up to the young master now?”

“…There’s no way I’d do that. I also dislike that commoner.”

Although the maid hesitated for a moment, she soon joined in, skillfully mixing the sauce.

From then on, the maids continued to torment her secretly, and despite her cries of injustice, someone tried to frame her as part of a daughter’s scheme.

This was all the memorial showed.

Truly, it felt utterly miserable.

‘…Damn.’

With a familiar bitterness, my teeth clenched involuntarily.

A child picked up outside due to mental illness.

The blatant disgust and contempt from the three sisters.

I already know this well enough.

But Carla, this kid, received even worse beatings. He had to endure the storms of a medieval era where nobles still existed, not in Korea.

Not just his family, but even many servants were his enemies.

The three sisters of the Bargrand Duke House, who openly displayed hostility towards Carla, would completely isolate him, and the servants wouldn’t treat him as the young master either.

Harassment, harassment again.

He would surely cry out against injustices whenever he had a chance.

Only when he realized that crying out only made him more bitter.

“…”

“Quickly choose and don’t dawdle. Hurry up and pick, Carla.”

After the memorial ended, Flora’s chilling reminder reached him.

Yeah, he had to choose.

[1. (While choosing a new maid) Send this one in.]

[2. Everyone dislikes me anyway? I’d rather not choose.]

[3. (Throwing documents in Ariana’s face) Hire a new one! Do I have to suffer the same fate?]

[4. If you’re going to release Camila from isolation, do as you wish. I won’t care.]

Right now, the choices were displayed like this.

Of course, I knew the answer was number 4. Releasing Camila from isolation and preparing for the Dead Trigger was the best move.

But, should I just settle for the answer within this system’s chains?

Absolutely not. Even within the constraints of the choices, I must maximize the variable of “this body is mine.”

Yes, like adding the word “mother” without saying “hard work” after it, ending the conversation with “nothing happened.”

Perform the choice but don’t fully execute it. Interpret it as creating a non-existent correct answer.

“What are you trying to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you giving me all the documents? Haven’t you heard who to choose?”

“Of course, I heard. You’re right in front of me. There’s no way I couldn’t hear unless something was stuffed in my ear.”

“Carla.”

At Ariana’s mocking reply, her eyebrows twitched. Even just calling his name carried pressure.

It was a critique telling him not to speak recklessly.

Despite this, he stared straight into Ariana’s eyes without backing down and swallowed his words.

“You wouldn’t understand. That bowl of gruel, which looked insignificant compared to luxurious food, saved Carla.”

Of course, a noble lady who had never experienced hunger wouldn’t understand such knowledge.

That’s why they treated him like he was given poison, showing off.

[2. Everyone dislikes me anyway? I’d rather not choose.]

“I don’t need it. No one wants to choose, right? Can’t you understand?”

Not choosing at all.

You, the maids, are no different. Rather, you’re the ones who offered me poison.

***

In a fit of anger, I said one thing.

Facing my firm determination not to choose the maids, Ariana let out an unavoidable sigh.

“Again with your stubbornness? Soon, this room will be filled with moldy smells and dust. Do as you wish. I’ll give you a few days.”

Seeing her future room clearly, she mocked while gathering the maids’ profiles.

She truly acted as if she ignored people, just like the first girl.

Well, it wasn’t entirely wrong.

What could a noble do without any maids?

Cleaning his own room and managing his belongings, even taking care of himself would be impossible. Especially for someone like Carla, who hadn’t learned anything.

“But I’m not. You silly girl.”

If the room smells of mold and is covered in dust?

Don’t make me laugh.

Having prepared for independence without any help until escaping that house, such tasks were basic.

Leaving breakfast unfinished because of a loss of appetite, I opened the wardrobe.

Inside was as expected.

A series of results created through Flora’s malice were lined up.

“If I wear this and go to Isabella… Ugh.”

My head shook involuntarily. If Ariana discovered this, she might lecture me on how I couldn’t walk around the house in such a state.

It’s better to get rid of any potential issues.

First, I need to do laundry. With my own hands.

Doing laundry in winter with cold water.

It’s been a long time since I last did this.

I chuckled and took out all the clothes from the wardrobe, putting them in a bag before heading out.

At that moment, the door opened inward, and a blonde girl appeared.

“What are you going to do? As big sister said, this place will soon be filled with dust and become a trash heap.”

Predicting, no, wishing for this room to be left dirty, her voice echoed.

In the game, after Ariana’s line, the scene skipped, so Flora didn’t appear. Well, her purpose was obvious whether seen through dialogue or voice.

“Poor Camila. How unlucky to be locked in isolation for no reason. What fault did she commit?”

Look at that.

She came to deliberately provoke Carla and make him angry.

Seeing her boast and provoke like she won, she truly seemed like a foolish little girl.

There’s no need to respond to such a person. Without a word, I walked past Flora.

“…”

Flora’s eyes trembled. Perhaps finding his lack of reaction displeasing, she spoke up.

“What are you doing? Where are you going!”

Regardless.

I continued on my path.

***

“Hey, Carla! Where are you going? Answer me!”

Flora followed behind, trailing me as she spoke.

By the time it reached slightly over ten times,

I arrived at the destination I wanted. The maids’ laundry area as shown on the mini-map.

-Thunk.

Placing the bucket filled with clothes below, I grabbed the large basin used by the maids.

“What are you doing?”

How many times had she asked this? Getting annoyed by her chatter, I decided to tell her.

“I’m washing my clothes that you messed up.”

“What?”

“Flora, I’m washing the clothes you dirtied using the maids.”

When the basin was filled with water,

I put all the clothes into the basin and rolled up my pants to my knees, starting to stomp on them.

Flora’s expression turned to shock.

Whether she was startled by the direct hit, didn’t understand why I was washing clothes, or was surprised by why a noble would wash clothes in freezing water, it was unclear.

Her expression was quite readable.

As she saw me squatting down and starting to wash clothes with familiar warm water, Flora fell silent.

But silence didn’t last long.

To break the silence, a furious pink-haired lunatic ran over, spitting out curses.