1. Patron Anais (3)
1. Patron Anais (3)
"Some hospitality this is. We made this appointment four days ago."
Ella spoke irritably, tapping a crossed leg.
A full three hours had passed since we'd arrived at the manor.
Its mistress had yet to show her face.
Asking after the situation earned us nothing but the same plea to keep waiting.
"In my next life, I'd better be born a noble. Honestly."
A maid was standing right beside her, but Ella didn't care.
The whole point was to signal her displeasure.
But no matter how much she scowled and grumbled, to anyone else it looked like a girl's petty sulking.
"Just a moment longer, miss. She'll be with you very shortly."
The maid's gentle reply left Ella with nothing to say.
She could only scratch her head and fidget.
It made her look like a complete child.
The maid apparently thought so too, letting out a small laugh.
Pfft—
Ella's eyebrows shot up.
"D-don't laugh."
"Ahaha, my apologies."
Ella glanced at the clock.
"...At this rate, lunchtime'll be over."
"Shall I bring you a small snack, then?"
"Forget it. More importantly, the Viscountess... no, never mind..."
She seemed ready to press harder, but after a glance my way she shook her head.
With me, the troupe leader, sitting there doing nothing but smiling serenely, there wasn't much she, the deputy, could do to escalate things.
It wasn't that I was sitting calmly out of a good temper.
I was just as bored and annoyed as she was.
There was no world in which I was enjoying being cooped up in this room.
But I couldn't show anger.
I couldn't even furrow my brow.
The Smiling Man.
Wonderstein's innate trait.
Thanks to this absurd trait that kept me perpetually composed and smiling, I could at least project an air of unruffled ease.
"Anyway, how about you finally tell me what your angle is?"
"Angle?"
She gave me a fed-up look in response to my guileless tone.
"I mean, what now? You said there'd be money to be found if we came here."
"Viscountess Bergson is quite wealthy."
Ella shook her head.
Her black bob swayed.
"Wealthy so what? Judging by the reception we're getting, it doesn't look like we'll be getting anything."
"We have to ask."
"A noble with a shred of common sense doesn't just hand over money because some wandering circus magician asks for it."
At that moment, another voice cut in.
"Exactly."
The reply came from the drawing-room entrance.
A woman with long, faintly green-tinted hair entered.
Thin limbs and skin so pale it looked sickly—a single glance gave the impression of frailty.
"Apologies for the wait. An unexpectedly important guest arrived."
A truly meaningless apology.
I felt my mood sour the instant I heard it.
So we're not important guests, then?
"I am Viscountess Anais Bergson. Are you the one who claims to be able to cure my illness?"
"...Yes. My name is Frank Wonderstein. A pleasure to meet you, Viscountess."
I rose and offered a handshake with a genial smile.
But Anais simply stared at me, then pointedly ignored the gesture and walked past me to her seat.
"I can't speak to your magic, but you seem unfamiliar with etiquette. Charlotia nobles do not make casual physical contact."
In moments like this, I was genuinely grateful for The Smiling Man.
The original me would have flushed bright red at the unexpected jab, my expression crumpling.
I'd have been furious at myself for rising to the provocation, drowning in self-loathing.
But the me right now is not that me.
I am Wonderstein.
I am The Smiling Man.
"Haha, I was unaware. My apologies."
I sat across from the viscountess with a relaxed smile.
She studied me with a look of mild surprise.
I met her gaze squarely, head held high.
Her image from the game superimposed itself over her.
A human torso protruding like an antenna from the head of a colossal frog-monster.
Skin, veins, and muscle fused and writhed between beast and woman as if they were a single organism.
The human grafted atop the monster clawed at her own hair, sobbing in agony.
-I only wanted... to be free... to wander the world...
The entire manor shuddered in resonance with her weeping.
The building pulsed like a living thing.
The knight drew his sword and steeled his resolve. The thief nocked an arrow and dropped into a combat stance. The mage raised her staff, lips pressed tight.
The battle turned the whole manor—every room they'd passed through—into its stage.
The knight's strength shattered stone walls. The thief's arrows brought down ornaments. The mage's magic obstructed the monster's path.
The frog-creature pursued the three of them through the collapsing mansion, all the way to the front hall.
Once they reached here, victory was assured.
The toad drew another breath, its cheeks ballooning.
The monster meant to bury the three heroes under the rubble of the manor with a blast of compressed air.
In that instant, the ghost butler appeared amid the chandelier on the ceiling.
He struck the chandelier with his staff.
A magnificent fixture adorned with sharp-edged goldwork and jewels.
It plunged onto the monster's head.
Whooosh— CRAAAACK—
The chandelier's central shaft pierced the monster's skull. Its ornaments and gems drove mercilessly into the woman's body.
—GRAAAGH!
Black blood fountained upward. The woman fused to the beast let out a piercing shriek and pitched forward.
The ghost butler descended slowly from the ceiling to the floor.
The viscountess's body went slack at the waist where it fused with the monster.
The ghost butler lifted the fallen woman into his arms.
She offered him a faint smile as he stroked her cheek.
Her eyes, which had blazed crimson with madness moments before, had already returned to those of an ordinary person.
-I'm... I'm sorry, everyone. I'm sorry... Th-thank you, butler...
-Rest now, my lady.
The viscountess closed her eyes.
The ghost butler bowed low to the three heroes.
His form soon grew hazy and vanished.
With that, Viscountess Bergson's manor—the Prologue Stage of TT3—was cleared.
The woman before me now was not sprouting ribs like spines, nor lashing a tongue several meters long, nor wailing floods of bloody tears.
What sat here was no monster, but a single, frail, delicate lady.
"Are you quite finished gawking?"
She must have misinterpreted my gaze.
Her expression was icy.
Beside me, Ella shot me a contemptuous sidelong glare.
I thought I'd managed a serious look, but The Smiling Man permitted me only one expression.
A slick, artificial smile.
I had inadvertently become a leering pervert ogling a woman's body.
I opened my mouth to explain, but Anais waved a hand, killing my attempt.
"Hmph, never mind, you rude magician. So? What do you think? I've heard you possess considerable medical knowledge. Having seen me with your own eyes, can you tell anything?"
"Well, it appears you have some sort of respiratory issue."
"Oh, you've deduced it's a breathing-related illness just by looking at me? How very impressive."
Shhh-shhh—
The whir of a pump filled the quiet room.
Anais's words dripped with sarcasm.
She fixed me with a blatantly disdainful stare.
"Forgive me, but may I ask which university you studied medicine at?"
"I didn't attend a university."
"Then what do you do for a living now?"
I answered with a broad grin.
"I lead a small circus troupe."
"Ah."
That single syllable carried a great deal. You could tell by the shift in her expression.
She let out a loud sigh.
"Another waste of my time today."
"M-My lady..."
The butler wore a troubled look.
An air of irritation settled on Anais's face.
"I've indulged your earnest efforts until now, but please stop bringing people like this. A wandering circus troupe... What could a bunch of street performers possibly know?"
For a fleeting moment, I seriously considered planting a monster seed in her.
Differences in status aside, her words had crossed a line.
I might be ignorant of this world's etiquette, but I could tell from Ella, bristling and about to jump in.
"Excuse me?"
Ella shot up from her seat.
I swiftly raised a hand to restrain her.
"Miss Ella, calm yourself."
"...Tch."
Lips pressed tight, she threw herself roughly back into the chair.
Anais Bergson.
She was exactly what I'd expected.
Reading through the records left behind while running the Viscountess Bergson's manor stage, I had learned a fair amount about her.
Sickly from childhood, she was surrounded by nothing but people who worried over her, and she spent most of her life confined to this small territory.
Her brilliant mind earned her labels like prodigy and genius. Handling the trading company's affairs built her confidence in her own abilities.
Consequently, she never learned how to form proper human relationships.
To her, a friend was someone kind and devoted. The world was words and numbers written on paper.
Her cynical, sharp-tongued disposition stemmed from that.
Of course, I had no intention of backing down.
It was only this morning that I'd resolved to clear this stage and prove myself.
If I couldn't even manage a quest this simple, how would I endure the next two and a half years?
"You're rather hot-tempered, hoho. I do have a method to cure your illness, Viscountess."
She stared at me.
She seemed slightly caught off guard.
Well, she would be.
Most people probably reacted with visible displeasure when she snapped at them like that.
I could tell just from the butler's awkward expression behind her.
But I let nothing show.
The innate trait The Smiling Man ensured I never lost my smile, no matter the situation.
Perhaps my attitude intrigued her.
She hesitated briefly, then sat back down.
"Fine. I'll allow myself to be duped."
She slouched, eyeing me sideways.
"So what is this method?"
"My magic."
"Magic?"
Anais let out a derisive snort.
"A truly plausible method. What manner of magic, precisely?"
I smiled at her and said,
"I will replace your lungs. With healthy ones."
I was brimming with confidence.
Before my eyes floated a Status Window.
[Evolution Lab] displayed the estimate for what I had requested.
Trait: Healthy Respiration
Application Site: Lungs
Effect: Replaces lungs with normal, healthy ones.
Cost: [Devolut 8]
"Replace... my lungs? That's— that can't possibly be possible!"
The eyes on me brimmed with disbelief. Even I, who'd experienced modern medicine, found the idea of swapping out human organs like parts hard to swallow—how much worse for them?
Only Ella gave a small nod, her expression tense.
She'd been witnessing the nature of Wonderstein's power all along.
Anais studied me for a long moment before speaking.
"Then what do you need? Can you cast this spell right now?"
"Of course. I can do it immediately."
Anais rose abruptly and stood before me, hands on her hips.
She looked down at me with a haughty expression.
"Fine. Do it at once. If you can truly cure my illness, I'll grant the request you made through my butler."
This is going to be easy!
Maybe it's because it's my first quest. Practically a freebie.
I didn't think it'd be resolved after just a few words.
I reached out. Activating a BioMancer skill was straightforward.
I didn't even need to recite an incantation.
I just...
Just...
...Ah, hell.
I stopped moving.
"What is it? Don't tell me—you need to recharge your mana first, or some such pattern?"
I couldn't muster any retort to her mockery.
Wonderstein's abilities.
Using them came with a condition.
A very simple condition, but...
"Viscountess, my magic requires contact with the subject. That is... bare skin..."
Anais's brow furrowed slightly at my words.
Hadn't she said Charlotia nobles never made casual physical contact?
Fortunately, she obligingly extended her hand.
But I wasn't happy in the slightest.
If that were all, I wouldn't have been flustered.
I shook my head.
"I need to touch near the application site."
"The application site? You mean I have to let you touch..."
Anais couldn't finish the sentence.
Everyone in the room stiffened.
This was a serious situation.
This was about treating an illness.
I tried to hypnotize myself, to manage my expression.
But despite my efforts,
"May I touch you?"
The Smiling Man smiled.