7. Trial of the Rose Windmill Cabaret (18)
7. Trial of the Rose Windmill Cabaret (18)
By the time Ella returned to the hotel and wrapped up the day's duties, it was past midnight.
Sunday.
Today was the busiest day of all.
In the morning, she had to head to the cabaret to set up the equipment for the performance.
The staff had offered their assistance, but the finer details demanded her own eyes on the ground and her own judgment.
The position of the lighting, the arrangement of the props—a performance could change dramatically with only slight adjustments.
Luckily, it wouldn't take much time to sort out. Her visits to the cabaret over the past two weeks hadn't been idle sightseeing. She'd studied the shape of the hall and the structure of the stage, constantly asking herself, *How would we do this?* Sometimes she'd borrowed ideas from other teams' shows.
Every concept was already organized and written down in her notes. She was confident the stage prep could be finished before noon.
The troupe members were the greater concern.
They needed to acclimate to the theater's atmosphere. This wasn't like the old days, when a few movements and a growl from inside a cage had been enough.
Rehearsal was critical. No matter how polished the script or how thorough the practice, everything fell apart if it didn't work on-site. They needed to perform on the real stage as if it were an actual show.
Thankfully, the cabaret staff were cooperative with the competitors. They were happy to stand in as an audience whenever asked.
Ella leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She needed to fall asleep for tomorrow. But her chest refused to calm. Even sitting still, she could hear her own heart pounding in her ears.
Too much caffeine during the day. Her body kept sinking like a waterlogged blanket, but her mind stayed bright and sharp. It was as if someone were prying her eyelids open by force.
She had to sleep...
That was the only way she could keep moving tomorrow...
That was when she felt a stirring inside her hat, then her pocket.
-Coo, coo.
-Squeak, squeak.
Her pigeon and her rat. Both were twisting their bodies restlessly.
They were nocturnal creatures. She'd trained them well enough that they usually slept in sync with her own rhythms, but lately her habit of staying awake until dawn had thrown them into confusion. They had spent the whole evening asleep and now seemed to have just woken up.
"Shall we go for a walk? A bit of cold air, a warm shower when we get back—maybe that will help me sleep."
-Coo! Grrrr!
-Chee! Chee!
The word "walk" sent them fluttering with excitement.
Ella tidied her workspace, slipped on her coat, and stood. Before she left, she glanced into the mirror.
A girl stared back at her, pale as if she'd seen a ghost. Had she always been this washed out? The troupe members' worried remarks clearly hadn't been just empty words.
After all, even Ratmen had been concerned.
-Deputy Leader! You look awful!
-Right! You need rest!
-Let's quit lessons!
Of course, that last part was probably just because they wanted to play...
Still, the concern from the others felt genuine, even Maya's offhand comment. Everyone except one person.
-Miss Ella, please tell me whenever you need help.
Wonderstein's smiling face surfaced in her mind.
Empty words.
Of course. If she collapsed from illness, there'd be no one to do the work. His words were a contradiction. The very reason he wanted her to stay healthy was so she would keep working.
-I don't need your help. I'm fine on my own.
Whenever he said things like that, that was always her reply. But she knew she was lying.
She needed help.
Desperately.
But she didn't want it. She was supposed to be suffering. She had to push herself harder and harder.
-Because you can't just have fun together.
She was supposed to be in pain.
The reason she was pouring herself into the competition was his promise: that he would release her in two and a half years. She couldn't be doing this because she wanted to. It had to be something she was forced to do in order to earn her freedom.
As penance for her dead friends. To craft an excuse for herself: *I'm suffering because of that demon, too.*
But she knew the truth.
She knew it was self-deception.
-When he told you he "trusted" you, you were happy, weren't you?
-When he praised you, you were pleased, weren't you?
-When he acknowledged you, you were proud, weren't you?
She wanted him to stay a target for her hatred and resentment. Feeling even a hint of enjoyment felt like a betrayal of her dead friends. So she kept driving herself into the ground.
Yet that very compulsion betrayed the truth: her real feelings were the exact opposite.
"No."
Ella murmured it aloud and opened her eyes. She realized she was sitting on a stone in the garden. The walk from her room to this spot was a blur. She'd been moving in a daze.
After letting the animals loose to roam, she'd simply crouched down and nodded off.
Ella looked around the garden. The grounds she'd blasted apart with an explosion had been restored to their former beauty. On closer inspection, they looked even better than before. The hotel must have hired a skilled gardener, befitting a first-class establishment.
-You can't. The troupe members were almost hurt. You, Miss Ella, were nearly killed.
When she'd asked him if she couldn't just make more bombs, he'd stopped her with those words. Like a proper adult. In a tone that sounded genuinely worried about her.
Bullshit.
It was an act.
Don't fall for it.
Ella checked the time. A full thirty minutes had slipped by. She needed to head back.
She stood and stretched. The cold ground had left her body trembling.
She reached both hands up above her head. Her stiff muscles and joints crackled and popped as they loosened.
In that instant—
"Agh."
Her breath seized. Her heart clenched tight. A dizzying rush pulled at her entire body.
"Haah..."
She could feel the blood draining from her head.
The world spun. Everything receded into a distant blur.
Oh.
No.
Can't sleep.
I have to prepare for the show.
All the strength left her body, and her vision went dark.
Thud.
Ella pitched forward onto the grass. She lay there facedown and couldn't get up.
-Squeak?
-Coo, coo!
It was ten minutes before the two animals, who'd been playing hide-and-seek in the garden, noticed their owner's condition.
-Coo?
-Squeak!
The pigeon pecked at her ear, and the rat tugged at her fingers. But she didn't stir.
***
I stared out the window. It was raining. Just the sound of the drops hammering the glass told me this was a rough, heavy storm. A hotel staff member told me it had started an hour ago—which meant Ella had been lying helpless in this downpour for over an hour.
"Get a doctor!"
"Already called for one!"
"Here! Please bring some warm towels!"
"Damn it, how did this happen..."
The troupe members scrambled about in a frenzy. I stood in the corner of the room, silently observing Ella's condition.
Her face was bleached white, like a plaster cast. Even wrapped in blankets that had been warmed by the fire, she shivered helplessly.
-Crrrrr.
-Squeak, squeak.
I watched the rat and pigeon perched by her bedside, staring down at their owner with what I could only read as worry.
Half an hour ago, they'd woken me up. They'd hammered against my window. The rain had drowned out the noise, so it had taken me a while to actually stir. By the time I noticed, they were soaked through.
When they seized my sleeve and tugged, I knew something had happened to her.
Guided by them, I found Ella collapsed in a secluded corner of the garden. If not for those two, she could have been left lying in the rain for hours.
"Deputy Leader!"
"Ella!"
"Keep it down!"
The troupe members surrounded her bed and stared at her with anxious eyes.
"Troupe Leader."
Yurakne was signaling to me from outside the room. I followed her into the hallway, and she looked up at me and whispered cautiously.
"They said it'll take the doctor about an hour to get here."
"That's a long wait."
"The rain's terrible... But, Troupe Leader. If it's you..."
I knew what she was implying. She was asking me to use my abilities. With the power of a BioMancer, getting a collapsed person back on her feet would be simple.
But would she want that?
I'd offered several times before. Every single time, she'd recoiled and refused.
Maybe I could just fix her quickly while she was still unconscious?
I was still wrestling with it when voices rang out from inside the room.
"She opened her eyes!"
"Deputy Leader, are you okay?"
Yurakne and I went back inside together. Ella's eyes were open—barely, her lids heavy—and she was looking around at everyone.
"Auuugh... wh-what... what time is it... what time?"
I opened my Status Window to check the hour.
"It's five in the morning."
The troupe members startled at my voice and shrank back. I stepped through the crowd and moved to the bedside. She looked up at me and mumbled.
"I have to go... move the equipment first..."
"The Ratmen are loading it as we speak. Don't worry."
"The stage layout..."
"You have your notes, Miss Ella. The others can handle it."
"Rehearsal on-site... the adjustments..."
She tried to push herself up. I pressed gently on her shoulder and laid her back down.
Our eyes met.
Fear flickered through hers.
"No... don't... please, don't... that..."
"Miss Ella."
"I'm begging you... don't..."
She murmured those words, and then she lost consciousness again. The troupe members sucked in their breath and exchanged anxious whispers.
I stared at the quest window that had appeared before me.
*Member Quest — Raising a Child Without Devolut
: Ella does not want to receive the Troupe Leader's 'treatment.'
Clear Condition
: Do not lay a hand on Ella's body until she recov‥‥
I dismissed the quest window at once.
Member Quest. It was a kind of wish-fulfillment mechanism. The troupe members' wants were delivered to me in the form of quests.
I'd made good use of it. It had let me recognize what my people desired, and by granting those desires, I'd raised their Affection levels.
But the system had a flaw. It didn't trigger unless they consciously wanted something—and what they wanted wasn't always what was best for them.
That was why nothing had popped up when Ella first collapsed unconscious. But the wish she'd formed in her half-conscious state had registered just fine.
"Troupe Leader."
Yurakne seized my hand. I nodded.
To hell with the Member Quest. I'd put too much faith in the wish-fulfillment system. And this—*this*—was the result of taking her constant reassurances that she was fine at face value.
This was all my fault. If she hated me for it, so be it.
Her treatment came first.
I opened the Evolution Lab and placed my hand on her body.
And then...
For a few seconds, I simply stood there, motionless. The troupe members, realizing what I was trying to do, watched me with hopeful eyes.
None of them looked worried. They knew as well as I did that Wonderstein would never bring harm to Ella, of all people.
I stood still for a moment longer, then took my hand away.
"T-Troupe Leader? D-did it... work?"
Yurakne whispered, still watching me. Ella hadn't stirred. Her body kept trembling.
I shook my head.
"We'll wait for the doctor."
"Troupe Leader?"
"I have a potion in my room—a gift from the Viscountess. Let's at least get that into her first."
"Troupe Leader, wait!"
I shook off Yurakne's grip and left the room. Alone in the corridor, I walked with heavy, deliberate steps.
Ella was an enigma. A character who didn't appear in the original story. I'd never known why Wonderstein originally wanted to take her with him.
I pulled up the notification on my Status Window and read it again. The moment I'd placed my hand on her, the quest-failed alert had appeared.
That part didn't matter. I'd made my peace with that before I'd even tried to treat her.
The problem was the message that had come next. The first one I'd ever received since arriving in this world.
[Diagnosis impossible. Subject possesses Devolut Immunity.]