The Result of Malice (1)

The choices had arrived, as if to announce the start of the very first episode.

Right. That was exactly how it had gone. After the brief scene skip during the tutorial, the story jumped straight into Karsein's room, where Episode One began — triggered by the maid's announcement that she'd brought dessert.

His status was afflicted with a cold, and his hunger was depleted, leaving him in no condition to eat anything. And yet, the correct answer was option one. The answer was to say, flatly, Come in.

First of all... it seemed the test couldn't proceed at all, thanks to this body.

"Come in."

When I said it while still buried under the bedcovers, the maid carefully opened the door and slipped inside.

"Pardon the intrusion, Lord Karsein."

Ever since I'd picked my choice, my head had been swimming. At this rate, I wouldn't last.

Damn it, the dizziness is blurring my vision. I need to lean against the wall.

Squirming toward the head of the bed, I propped myself up against it, and in the meantime, with the rumble of rolling wheels, the tray bearing the dessert drew right up in front of me.

Two puddings and a drink, set down on the table before my eyes. That was the dessert I had been given.

"I'll take my leave now. Please call for me once you've finished."

The maid, Camilla, gave that reply and rolled the tray back out with her.

The table with its two puddings and drink, and Karsein — worn down by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his cold, forcing himself to hold on. That was probably how the scene had played in the game.

Here, a simple mini-game had unfolded in its place, but playing at being fine with a genuinely sick body was an entirely different kind of ordeal. It made the convenience of rummaging for clothes that morning feel like a distant memory.

From the moment Camilla had rolled the tray in, a timer had hung in front of my eyes, and for its entire duration I'd had to keep anyone from discovering how sick I was. And I'd succeeded.

The problem was what came next.

This episode was supposed to end with Karsein, unable to endure his cold any longer, collapsing in a heap.

Which meant that, in reality, this body of mine was on the very verge of doing exactly that.

But then. A single fork glowing before my eyes caught my attention.

"A Memorial... was it?"

Common sense said a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fork wasn't some naturally luminescent object, so how was it giving off light? Every so often, glowing objects appeared in this game. They were items called Memorials — touch them, and they replayed scenes from the past like strips of film.

They supplied the clues that helped a player make at least the correct choices in a game brimming to the top with absurd bad endings.

Granted, since this episode was scheduled to end here regardless, it probably didn't mean much...

Still, better to take a look.

My body, blazing like it was on fire, was stiffer and slower than it had been walking to the dining hall. Even so, I dragged myself over and touched the fork, and the Memorial flared bright, projecting a single scene like a film reel.

What came into view was an empty room in the ducal estate — and there, the head maid appeared to have brought a young maid in with her.

The head maid moved to hand over a pouch heavy with coin, then yanked it back and withheld it.

"I suppose I've got no money for you this time."

"I'm sorry? What do you mean..."

"You botched the job, and now you have the gall to tell me you actually did it?"

Confused by the sudden declaration that money she'd assumed she'd receive any moment now wouldn't be coming, Camilla asked in a fluster.

"What are you talking about? I did — I did everything I was told to do."

"Then recite for me what your task was."

"Filling the bathtub with cold water instead of hot, and making sure plenty of salt went into his meal. Wasn't that it?"

The truth of today's events laid itself bare. Karsein's salted meal, the water he'd washed with — all of it, Camilla's doing.

"Then why would the young lady's feelings be spared! Karsein downed half his soup like it was nothing. Not only that, he washed up just fine in cold water and didn't breathe a single word of complaint. Isn't it only natural that I'd suspect you?!"

"I— but I...!"

Thud.

"...!"

"I'll give you one more chance. Rigomos-class stimulant and excitant. Take these drugs, put them in a dessert, and bring it to him. If you fail even this, then understand that it is truly over for you."

The head maid pressed the two vials directly into Camilla's hands as she issued her threat.

And that was where the scene the Memorial projected ended.

My burning body came back to me. My blurred vision cleared, and my senses returned.

It was strikingly different from what I'd seen in the game. Well — the content of the Memorial itself wasn't much different from the in-game version, but a fair amount had been added.

In the game, the scene had amounted to nothing more than the head maid placing the vials in Camilla's hands, and as a player, what you took away from it was simply the information that Camilla was the culprit.

What you never learned was that those puddings and that drink each contained a stimulant and an excitant — compounds that, when ingested together, set the nerves on edge. And certainly not that she'd been paid under the table to do it.

Presumably, as long as no one touched that food, the game's flow would carry on exactly as written. But.

This? This is something I can work with.

Because I wasn't Karsein. I was Kim Minhyuk.

Whether it was a chance to escape this place or a chance to clear the game — the moment even the faintest thread of a lead presented itself as an opportunity, I would never, ever turn it down.

Stab.

I drove the fork dead into the center of one of the puddings, hauled the mess into my mouth, chewed, and forced the drink down my throat as best I could.

The stimulant and the excitant. Consumable items from the game.

Eaten alone, each functioned as a perfectly legitimate medicine. But swallowed together in a single sitting, they overstimulated the nerves, leaving the victim hypersensitive and raw. I'd seen the bad ending where Karsein, dosed with them, flew into a rage, too.

But honestly? None of that mattered.

Already riddled with a cold, his nerves couldn't get any more frayed than they were. Anyone simmering in fever and chills like this had every reason in the world to be furious.

So even if boundless malice was steeped into a pudding and drink that looked and tasted utterly innocent — it wouldn't land. It would have no effect at all.

Gulp. Gulp.

I drained a third of the drink and swallowed down one entire pudding. That was more than enough.

Ugh... no more...

That was my genuine limit. Watching the fork tumble to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the floor, my body collapsed right after it.

I couldn't tell how badly it hurt — the pain didn't register clearly. I only regretted that I couldn't make out the words on the status window that bloomed before my eyes.

Breakfast had been nothing but one long frustration.

Something had gone wrong. Clearly, something had.

The cold water the maid had ordered drawn into the bath, the flat, indifferent reaction without so much as a tattle to Mother, the meal that should have been drenched in salt — Karsein hadn't reacted to any of it. Not to a single thing.

Because he hadn't reacted at all, she thought. Because a golden opportunity had flown right out of her hands.

So she'd been dissatisfied. She'd even gone so far as to wonder whether the maid hadn't done her job properly.

And then Emma — who had served as her wet nurse since infancy — had spoken up, promising she would produce a proper result this time.

How much time had passed since then? Emma had smiled slyly and told her everything was ready, so she should head up to Karsein's room as she always did. She'd even driven it home: this time, he won't be able to keep from exploding.

That's my Emma!

Thanks to that, Flora — who had been stewing in grievance since breakfast — now walked with the lightest of steps.

She'd been so excited that walking turned to skipping, and before she knew it, she was right outside Karsein's door.

Let's see... he said ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the dessert was prepared, right? Yep!

Recalling what Emma had told her, Flora opened the door with a grin stretching ear to ear.

"Did you enjoy the dessert I prepared for you~?"

Truly an insufferable voice.

It went without saying what had been slipped into that dessert, and the singsong taunt dripped with mockery — how does it feel to be forced to swallow that and still not blow up?

At this, he was sure to lash out at her. He'd raise his voice, snap and snarl, veins standing out on his neck.

It was a line thrown out with absolute certainty that it would happen — not a shred of doubt in it.

"What? Why isn't anyone here?"

Karsein was nowhere to be seen in the room. Not on the bed, not seated at the table. Karsein, who should have been suppressing his expression as always, was simply gone.

That couldn't be right. Unlike Karsein's maid, Emma had no reason to lie.

She was still trying to work out what was going on when she looked closer and spotted something jutting out past the edge of the table. Something hidden from view.

"Pfft, what is this? Hiding from me, are you?"

It wasn't as if they were playing hide-and-seek. With him sticking out like that, practically announcing himself, she was practically itching to tease him some more.

Wondering how she might turn even this to her advantage, Flora made her way around the side of the table.

But.

"Wh... wha...?"

The girl's face, flushed with excitement at the prospect of finally provoking him, hardened in an instant.

Her delicately narrowed eyes trembled violently in bewilderment, and the corners of her mouth — upturned in a grin just moments before — crashed down.

He wasn't yelling, demanding to know what was wrong with her.

He wasn't raising his voice, snarling and snapping.

He wasn't even wearing that strained look of a person desperately trying to hold himself together.

Because the boy sprawled limply on the floor between the bed and the table was in a state where he could muster no reaction at all — no expression, no voice, nothing.

Karsein was collapsed on the floor.

"I d-don't know... I... I don't know anything!"

Terrified, the girl stumbled backward. One step, then another. And before she knew it, she'd turned her back entirely and fled the room.

Slam!

The door to Karsein's room shut behind her with a heavy thud.

"It seems everyone's finished eating, so I'll excuse myself as well."

"Mother? Getting up already?"

"There's still work left undone. I'd like to see what I started through to the end."

"But Mother, you've only just returned home after so long. Surely you could rest a while longer."

Isabella simply shook her head.

With Karsein and Flora gone, and now their mother rising to leave, the two remaining sisters no longer had any reason to keep their seats either.

Of course, when their long-absent mother announced she was returning to her duties, both daughters understood the real reason all too well.

Ever since that boy had left the table, Isabella's pace of eating had slowed, little by little. After that, her gaze had gone vacant, and her replies had grown shorter and shorter.

Because of the one who had left his seat for the first time. That was why their mother was leaving as well.

Unable to hold back her frustration, Claire turned on her heel the moment she stepped out of the dining hall. Watching her go, Arina called out to her.

"Claire."

"Don't try to stop me, Arina. Mother only just came back to the estate — the least she could do is stay at the table through one meal."

If only she'd kept her seat for the duration of the food, the meal wouldn't have ended on such an awkward, sour note.

"So I'm going to give her a piece of my mind. Don't stop me."

"I'm not trying to stop you. I'm saying I'm coming with you."

"Huh?"

"Because I feel exactly the same way. Even the bare minimum of courtesy — you ought to know how to observe it."

Sisters who had arrived at the very same thought, walking side by side toward Karsein's room.

"Karse—"

"Hey, Karsein. You in there? We're coming in!"

Arina moved to knock on the firmly shut door, but Claire, unable to wait even for that, flung it open and barged straight in.

"What's with him, where'd he go? He can't be washing up right now."

"Karsein wouldn't have any engagements. And the table — looks like he was just having dessert."

"Fair enough. Then where on earth..." She paused. "Huh?"

Then something caught Claire's eye — something jutting out past the edge of the table. It was Karsein's shoe.

"Unbelievable. What kind of idiot ends up on the floor mid-dessert?"

"Hey. What do you keep doing down on the floor like that?"

The two sisters strode briskly over — and, just like the girl who had come before them, their eyes flew wide open.

"K-Karsein!"

"Is nobody out there?! Go get Shayden — now!"