Chapter 190
Chapter 190
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 189
Chapter Title: When Do Women Get Excited About Men?
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Clare's General Store.
It was a makeshift shop that Clare, who traveled the continent collecting antiques, had set up to fund his journeys.
True to his reputation for unique items, the shop itself had the unusual feature of being mobile.
In the game, aside from the first guaranteed encounter, running into it was pure luck.
If your luck was bad, you might not see his store again until the game's ending.
The lively, ever-smiling Clare sold treasures with remarkable effects, but they came at a steep price—either exorbitant sums of money or, sometimes, trades for other items.
"So, you bought something from Clare's General Store?"
Ophelia offered no response to my question.
Seeing her slumped over, curled up like she was playing dead, I let out a sigh laced with irritation.
"You'd better cut it out. My patience for the living isn't as deep as you might think."
"Ah."
Ophelia, reminded once more that I was a Necromancer—and a Black Mage to boot.
One perk of operating in the Griffin Kingdom was that I could openly flaunt my status as a Black Mage without issue.
The citizens still harbored deep unease and fear toward Black Mages, which made it highly effective for intimidation.
"If you want to learn firsthand that death isn't truly the end, then keep your mouth shut. I'm better at hearing the voices of the dead than the living, after all."
"H-Hansen! I said I wanted to live with my boyfriend!"
Scare them like that, and most people spilled everything in a panic.
For ordinary folk, the absolute terror of death—and the idea of suffering worse beyond it—was immense psychological pressure.
"You bought cohabitation with your boyfriend?"
"As payment, I... I gave up my daughter!"
"......!"
"And after that! This tattoo appeared on my chest! That's why I've been getting affection from men! That's really all there is to it!"
Several parts of her story had been nagging at me, bordering on uncomfortable, but it was clear now: the Clare's General Store she'd visited was not the one I knew.
'Clare's General Store only sells the items on display. It doesn't make vague demands like that.'
As I stayed silent, she must have thought I was weighing her fate, because Ophelia shouted while still keeping her head bowed.
"Th-the people I felt affection for but whose feelings cooled toward me all died! But I didn't do anything!"
"......"
"I didn't use any magic! I didn't swing a sword! Is it my fault for liking someone and then giving up? How can anyone control the rise and fall of emotions?!"
Ophelia protested her innocence. Since she wasn't great with words, untangling her messy account was like unraveling a tangled skein of yarn.
First, a year ago, Ophelia bought cohabitation with her boyfriend from Clare's General Store.
Second, in exchange, Clare's General Store demanded her daughter.
Third, the men she'd loved but whose feelings had faded were killed by her reappearing dead daughter. Ophelia's ex-husband and this recent Hansen were victims.
'She traded her daughter for cohabitation with Hansen. But when Ophelia's feelings for Hansen cooled, her daughter appeared and killed him.'
I'd also heard there were quite a few other male victims around Ophelia.
'There must be far more unreported ones.'
Disguised as accidents or illnesses, it was impossible to gauge how many men this woman had killed in the name of love over the past year.
But could I pin murder charges on her?
'It wouldn't be easy.'
Even if I could somehow link her ex-husband or daughter's killings to force accountability, the others would be tough.
In the end, all she'd done was let her love naturally fade—a perfectly ordinary occurrence.
And the actual killing was done by her daughter.
Even with the connection to Clare's General Store, could I properly explain it in court when no one even knows where the damn place is?
She'd probably run these calculations a hundred times herself, which was why she confessed with a degree of confidence even now that she'd been caught.
She even phrased it to cast herself as the victim.
To resolve this, I'd need to see either Clare's General Store or her daughter at least once.
Finding Clare's was next to impossible, so the only option was...
"Do you know when your daughter shows up again?"
Ophelia nodded at my question, but her expression soured.
"Wh-when I realize my affection has faded! But... I don't have anyone I'm interested in right now."
"Sigh."
Interrogating Ophelia further like this wasn't likely to yield anything.
I had no intention of letting this cunning, shrewd woman walk free—I fully planned to make her pay.
But first, to solve it...
I needed to make her fall in love with someone, then let those feelings fade.
"Haa."
I let out a deep sigh.
The question was, who would play that role?
My head was already throbbing at the thought.
Unclear on exactly how her daughter killed these men, it was tricky to enlist anyone else's help.
Still, for now...
To uncover the anomaly with Clare's General Store—which differed from what I knew—and to prevent more innocent victims in the future...
This woman needed to develop even shallow feelings for someone.
"It would've been nice if Deus was here."
"Pardon?"
"Just mumbling to myself."
* * *
"When does a woman get excited about a man?"
My biggest dilemma regarding this case was whether to share Ophelia's truth with the women around me.
Even framing it as official business, asking how to seduce another woman would come off poorly to those who'd shown me affection.
I hadn't settled on myself as the target, but voicing it at all was thoughtless—I knew that.
Lacking any special skills to win a woman's heart, though, I needed advice.
As I'd said earlier, Deus really would've been perfect.
Or I regretted not bringing Iluania along.
In the end, the compromise was that question.
Get advice while keeping them in the dark about the matter.
It felt strangely nostalgic, acting with such consideration for others' feelings.
Anyway, in the lab, Pindenai, Erika, Professor Per, the Black Necromancer, and Stella all turned their gazes to me.
Naturally, Pindenai answered first.
"Did you take a bullet to the head?"
"......"
"You feeling sick somewhere? Did you hit your head hard fighting those Archdemons?"
Her reaction was over the top, but crucially, everyone agreed with her today.
"What's wrong? If you're sick, I'll grab some medicine from the infirmary. Or want me to take you there to rest?"
"I-Is something wrong with the prosthetic arm?"
Erika rushed over in a fluster to check on me, while Professor Per fretted that it might be her prosthetic's fault.
[Even ghosts can get chills. I just got goosebumps.]
[If you're that tired, want me to give you a massage?]
The Black Necromancer and Stella, who'd been chatting on either side, looked my way with their reactions.
My head already hurt from the brewing complexity, so...
"It's nothing."
I waved it off, thinking I'd been foolish to seek advice, but Pindenai let out a hollow chuckle.
"When does a woman get excited about a guy? Ha, hilarious. The Master asking that."
"Never expected an answer from you."
I hadn't thought I'd get normal women's insights from Pindenai, who was more beast than woman.
She was just there, so she heard the question.
Pindenai bristled, flipping me the bird in response.
"After I smashed four Archdemons into their skulls, that's when!"
"Haa."
"She's got such a big vessel!"
Watching her pound her chest with her fists evoked images of barbarians or Vikings.
Even after that ordeal, Pindenai showed no change whatsoever—truly a force of nature.
"When... I get a divorce notice?"
"......"
Hearing Erika's sidelong answer, I realized my mistake.
I should've asked ordinary people about normal relationships, but everyone around me—even charitably—had sensibilities far from average.
"I've never experienced that myself."
Professor Per scratched the back of her head, embarrassed. No wonder, holed up in the lab daily tinkering with prosthetics—she had no time for men.
[When you saved my soul from burning in the Holy Grail's flames.]
Stella grinned slyly as she whispered to me.
Now the answers had devolved into sharing personal anecdotes.
I'd expected too much.
Guess I'd have to figure it out myself, I thought—until the Black Necromancer hesitated from across Stella.
[Uh, just spending time together... doesn't it happen naturally?]
"Hm?"
I slowly lifted my head from the desk and turned to her. She covered her face with the black cloth as if embarrassed, then layered her hands over it to hide even more.
"But still."
From that one somewhat normal response, I found my inspiration.