Chapter 448

Lee Yang-hoon’s mansion looked magnificent.

The garden, touched by the Great Witch’s hands, exuded an old-world charm mixed with a certain stylish appeal. Additionally, due to Iarin’s strong request for a place suitable for martial arts training, several small shelters had been set up where one could quietly practice.

Inside one of these shelters, a small group was gathered.

Against the backdrop of the darkened sky, they had settled down—not just casually, but with a surprising level of thoroughness.

There were two girls with white hair.

Both of them were residents of this very mansion.

These four were enjoying what could almost be called “glamorous camping” in the garden.

There was a tent so large it was hard to believe only four people would fit inside, along with inflatable sofas and beds, a pop-up shower facility, a portable TV and laptop, and even a projector for watching movies.

It looked less like camping and more like an entire dorm room had been relocated.

The girls were seated around a camping wood-burning stove.

“The garden ambiance feels really unfamiliar. It doesn’t feel like our home anymore.”

“Even so, isn’t that a bit exaggerated? We’ve just made a few changes…”

“No, it’s not ‘a few.’ You completely overhauled it…”

“Um… Yes, we did make significant changes, but it’s still home…”

Through the transparent window of the wood stove, the firewood crackled, emitting warmth that wrapped around the girls tenderly. On top of the wood stove, a moka pot was steaming, brewing coffee.

The crackling firewood, the sound of insects in the distance, the gurgling moka pot—these sounds filled the air.

And then there was the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, along with the savory scent of rice cakes wrapped in aluminum foil roasting on the stove.

“Still, the atmosphere is nice… I especially like that it’s not cold.”

“Is that so?”

“Also, despite the warm weather, the ground isn’t muddy, our shoes don’t get covered in mud, wild animals don’t approach too closely, there aren’t many mosquitoes, and the plants here are full of life. All of this feels good to me.”

“That sounds like you’re talking about Russia… Ella, you didn’t enjoy your time there, did you?”

The one most enthusiastically enjoying the “camping” experience was Ella.

Her outfit was impressively outdoor-oriented.

She was dressed in what appeared to be pants and a windbreaker from an outdoor store, giving the impression of a seasoned camping aficionado who had been enjoying this hobby for years.

Though in reality, she was not.

Moreover, fearing the cold of sleeping outside at night, she had procured an electrically heated sleeping bag. The sleeping bag, although unused for the moment, was rolled up and resting on her lap, fulfilling its purpose of keeping her legs and torso warm.

And next to her was Iarin.

Unlike Ella, who appeared concerned about insect bites, Iarin wore clothing that was alarmingly casual.

Whereas Ella wore long pants, Iarin chose dolphin shorts that barely covered her. She disregarded the chilly night air, opting for a sleeveless top, and completed her ensemble with slippers. There was no sleeping bag in sight.

It was a lack of preparation that went beyond mere inadequacy—approaching nonexistence.

Yet, no one pointed out her lack of readiness.

“But… there’s one thing I don’t like.”

“What is it?”

“You.”

“Excuse me?”

“How can you ask? You’re clinging to me too much!”

At the sight of Iarin snuggling up to her, attributing it to the supposedly cold night, it was clear that Iarin deliberately prepared little, if anything, using the excuse to cling to Ella.

“Fine. Share, then.”

“No! I said to stop clinging! Move away!”

Despite the protests, Iarin remained pressed to Ella’s side as if she were a portable heater.

Clinging closely to Ella, Iarin had even managed to slide her hand under the sleeping bag positioned on Ella’s knees. To further her agenda, she naturally leaned her head and body onto Ella, whose body gradually tilted as time passed, suggesting she might soon recline on Ella’s lap.

“Haa…”

On the opposite side sat Iserin.

She was wearing oversized training gear that entirely covered her arms and legs, with a size that seemed too large. The pants appeared to fit perfectly but the top was not.

It was one or two sizes too large.

This was by Iserin’s design.

While it was better to wear form-fitting clothes for training, casual wear should be loose for comfort.

Particularly, the long sleeves were versatile.

For example, she inserted her hand into her sleeve, holding a piece of roasted rice cake, tearing it piece by piece.

“Huuuu…”

Iserin, with her long sleeves functioning almost like gloves, carefully tore the rice cake with her fingers to avoid burning her mouth, gently blowing on it.

And next to Iarin…

A young girl sat.

She had white hair and red eyes, appearing to be in elementary or middle school.

The mysterious young girl with an ethereal aura fidgeted with her moonlit white hair, looking somewhat aggrieved as she glanced at the three girls.

“Um, excuse me?”

The young girl Anastasia addressed the three.

“Didn’t I say we should be out here?”

However, no one paid attention to her words.

Ella was focused on the increasing contact from Iarin, who was busily maneuvering to lie on her lap, resisting her attempts. Meanwhile, Iserin, enjoying the rice cake and seemingly embodying a gourmet’s focus, occasionally glanced at Anastasia.

“…Yeah. You did say that, Asha…”

Iserin acknowledged Anastasia’s earlier words with a casual toss of her voice before returning her attention to the rice cake. She dipped it into honey brought from the dining room, smiling appreciatively at the combination of the savory cake and sweet honey.

“…Hmm.”

Anastasia’s dissatisfaction was evident as she pouted.

She abruptly stood, slipping her hands into her aviation jacket over her dress. She then pulled out a strange, black, wriggling mass and tossed it into the wood stove.

“Chuck!”

The object Anastasia threw hit the stove, producing a sound characteristic of viscous liquids, before oozing down.

“Twist…”

Unlike normal liquids, the substance did not pool on the ground. Instead, it moved as if alive, unfurling tentacle-like protrusions. These tentacles waved about like kelp before the entire mass began to slither towards the stove’s window, leaving a trail of slime in its wake.

The creature then pressed itself onto the stove’s window, completely blocking out the firelight with a purposeful determination.

“Huh? Why did it suddenly get dark?”

“The fire’s not out, but there’s something weird sticking there… The culprit is obvious…”

“Ah, since it’s dark, I’m sleepy. I’m going to bed.”

“…Stop fooling around and get up. My knee is not your pillow.”

Thus, the garden, illuminated by the stove’s fire, was enveloped in darkness once again.

The tents and canopies glowed with camping lanterns, creating an eerie, semi-lit atmosphere that evoked a sense of foreboding.

Meanwhile, the instigator of this ominous atmosphere looked triumphantly satisfied as she observed the three girls.

Her younger sister, initially startled by the sudden darkness, sighed as she grasped the situation.

Iarin, seizing the opportunity of the darkness, had reclined on Ella’s lap.

Iserin, having finished her rice cake, now stared at her.

Anastasia looked at all of them and announced:

“When you’re camping, it’s customary to tell a scary story.”

She firmly urged the three to comply.

She suggested they take advantage of this perfect ambiance to share urban legends and have fun.

“…You’ve been trying to set the mood for scary stories since the beginning, haven’t you?”

Ella sighed deeply upon recognizing her sister’s enthusiasm for the scary stories.

Not long ago, she seemed absorbed in a TV show featuring ghost stories.

‘Still, maybe this could be fun.’

In this perfect atmosphere, maybe sharing ghost stories could be enjoyable after all.