The Affectionate Sister

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"Ha. Your sister asked you a question. What are you doing?"

"···."

A hollow laugh slipped through Irene's crimson lips. What was I supposed to say? That laugh sounded like the roar of a massive beast to me, and my entire body went rigid. It felt as if an invisible hand were tightening around my throat. I couldn't breathe.

It made sense. She really was radiating killing intent.

Irene stared at me as my face turned deathly pale and I froze in place. Then, with a look of realization, she ran a hand through her hair. The suffocating killing intent vanished, and a ragged breath escaped my lips.

"You startled me. When I came back to the mansion, you were acting like a completely different person, so I wondered if you'd finally hit your rebellious phase. But I'm relieved. You're still the same cowardly little brother I know."

"···."

Irene forced her way into the carriage. I instinctively flinched and shifted aside to make room. The space was already cramped, yet she deliberately sat right in front of me and crossed her legs. Her sharp heel naturally came to rest on my thigh, sending a chill down my spine.

"Answer the question. Don't make your sister angry again."

"What do you mean···"

"Those talented children you kept whining and begging me to bring you. I went and fetched them for you. So what exactly are you doing with them now? Is this an orphanage?"

"···."

I knew this day would come eventually. As the one who had commissioned the task, reporting results was an obvious responsibility. Of course, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there was no guarantee it would be a regular event—it could arrive without warning, just like this. I had prepared for it. I even had hints from Sylvia.

Suppressing a groan as her heel slowly dug into my inner thigh, I parted my trembling lips.

"I'm running various experiments. It's easy to break those children, but impossible to put them back together. So before I break them, I should try everything I can, right? I need to gather research data."

"Hmm."

"And to maximize the dark energy, I need to increase the drop. In other words, I can only achieve maximum efficiency by breaking them at the moment of their greatest happiness."

"Is that all?"

"···What?"

"That might fool Lord Kali, but don't think you can fool me too."

Damn it. Irene let ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out another hollow laugh and pressed her heel down harder. The sharp point dug deeper into my inner thigh. I barely managed to swallow the groan that rose in my throat.

"Tell me the truth. What do you have to hide?"

"···."

How did she see through me? Was my lie too clumsy? That couldn't be. Aslan's passive skill should have perfectly supported my lies. Every wicked line I delivered should have sounded perfectly plausible. So what was it? Did she have some ability to detect lies?

Wait. If it was an ability, Aslan had one too. It was just the trivial ability to go without sleep, but an ability was still an ability. Just as I had obtained mine through a contract with the Evil God Kali, maybe Irene also···?

A black, smoke-like figure began to appear behind Irene's head. Was there one behind me too? Did all Evil Gods ride on people's backs like that?

"Don't get distracted. Answer the question."

"Ack!"

Her heel pressed down again, forcing a pained sound from me. As I tried to lean back to escape, Irene grabbed my collar and yanked me forward. There was nowhere to run. Our eyes met. Her crimson gaze pierced straight through me.

"Your sister can tell whenever you lie. Hurry up and tell the truth."

"···."

It wasn't a bluff. No lie would work against that Magic Eye. In that case, there was only one option—charge straight ahead. Cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

"All the black magic I've researched so far is nonsense. Black magic existed in the distant past, but it's been lost now. That's all a lie."

"What? Then what about the books I brought you?"

"They were all trashy novels."

"···."

Irene's expression slowly hardened, as if startled. She must have confirmed that everything I said was true. Good. It was working.

"So researching black magic is on the level of creating something from nothing. That's beyond my talent. That's why I need those children. They'll carry out the research in my place."

"Hah. So you turned the mansion into an orphanage and started teaching them?"

"That's right."

"···."

It wasn't a lie. I had already planned to use them for Aslan's research from the beginning. Charlotte might be useless, but it would be a waste to let Julia's brilliant mind rot away. Irene stared into my eyes for a long moment before finally releasing my collar with a faint smile.

"Well, if that's the case. I misunderstood. I thought you might actually be feeling sorry for them."

Her crossed legs uncrossed, and the threat to my future descendants vanished along with it.

"But isn't this too slow? How many years will it take for those tiny kids to be capable of research?"

"It won't take long. They're geniuses. I can guarantee it."

"Hmm···. Fine. I can look forward to our next meeting, then? It would be troublesome if you just whine that it's difficult again. You understand what I'm saying, right?"

"···I do."

Irene waved her hand and stepped out of the carriage. The moment the door slammed shut, the tension drained from my body and a sigh of relief escaped me.

This is insane. Is there really no way to deal with that woman?

Even after learning that the black magic books were all fake, she was still demanding results. Was she completely out of her mind? Why was she so obsessed with black magic? Growing up under a sister like that, of course Aslan turned into a deranged psychopath. I felt like I finally understood the villain's tragic backstory.

I don't have much time. I need to do something.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠academic presentation, Irene's pressure—everything demanded results now. But how was I supposed to create black magic with no leads whatsoever? I couldn't even begin to figure out where to start. How had Aslan completed black magic in the first place?

Huh? Wait a second. Was that really black magic?

A sudden thought struck me. That black magic Aslan had displayed at the end of Chapter 1—had it really been black magic? Or had it only resembled black magic, while actually being something else?

It felt like I was finally starting to see a direction.

"Here. This is the dormitory. And that room at the very end is yours."

"Where exactly is the room at the end?"

"It's right there. The attic."

"···."

The dorm supervisor finished her half-hearted guidance and turned away. Julia's expression soured. Was she displeased because it was a special admission?

Well, I suppose that's understandable.

Of course, Julia was just as confused by the situation. She had been granted admission from the very beginning without even taking an exam···. If she failed to produce good results at the academy, it would be extremely embarrassing for her sponsor as well. That meant they must have been certain she possessed some kind of talent···. But what had they seen? How?

Maybe they had some ability to measure talent just by looking at someone's appearance? In any case, it was an unprecedented situation in the academy's history.

"Wow! The attic room is huge!"

Julia's face lit up brightly as she climbed the ladder into the room. A window sealed tight with no gaps. Walls that didn't let in any drafts. And a soft bed···!

Was this heaven? How could such a luxurious room exist? Having spent her entire life in the orphanage's poor facilities, Julia had never experienced anything more extravagant than this.

"This isn't the time for that!"

After throwing herself onto the bed and rolling around for a while, Julia suddenly snapped to attention, her eyes wide. This wasn't the time to simply enjoy herself.

"I didn't come here to play. Get it together, Julia."

She hadn't come here to build her strength. She had come here to eventually save Julia and Charlotte. She absolutely hadn't come to enjoy this luxurious lifestyle.

Repeating this to herself, Julia buried her face in the soft mattress. It was so soft. Soft enough to make her forget why she had come here in the first place.

After rolling around while hugging the pillow for a long time, Julia suddenly sat up as she remembered the person who had made it possible for her to be here.

"That strange person···."

The anonymous sponsor. Even if it was impossible to know his identity, she had been told it was possible to contact him. Julia immediately unpacked her things, took out a pen, and sat properly at the desk.

"What should I write··· Hmm. Since he was wearing all black clothes from head to toe, including his hat, I'll call him the Black Mister."

Then, scribble scribble.

She began writing a letter of gratitude.