The Death Flag I Yielded to My Father
As soon as my father, who had so graciously yielded the death flag to his son out of supposed filial piety, left the room and the door clicked shut, an eerie silence swallowed the bedroom. Beside me stood my mother, Carna, her eyes still unfocused like a doll’s. Obeying my father’s command, she sat down next to me and began reading the third journal the President had sent. Her dry, mechanical voice filled the room with cold precision. Yet the sentences that flowed from her lips were anything but dry—they were slick, shameless records of depravity.
“He said we should try something a little special today and blindfolded me. Once I couldn’t see, every other sense became unbearably sharp. The cold air on my back. His burning hands digging into my body. I shook my hips exactly as he guided me and howled like a beast. The fragments of pleasure felt so much more vivid because I couldn’t see them. I clung desperately to the rough sound of his breathing and threw every last scrap of the dignity I had protected into that darkness.”
Listening to my mother recite the journal of Knight Commander Camilla, I closed my eyes. In my mind, the image of Camilla—still a virgin well into her late thirties—blindfolded and drowning in ecstasy came vividly to life. She had been so sexually innocent that she probably couldn’t even imagine what was happening beyond the blindfold. Just picturing it sent a vicious wave of depravity surging through me.
And then came the daughter’s journal, which stimulated my imagination even more intensely.
“Mother doesn’t know. While she, blindfolded and deafened by hypnosis, shook her hips like an animal on top of that vile man, I was hanging right in front of her—suspended from the ceiling by chains. I saw everything clearly: Mother’s golden hair whipping wildly, her lips spilling moans so vulgar it was impossible to believe they belonged to a knight commander. I had to watch it all with my mouth gagged, swallowing my screams. Every time Mother’s body convulsed in submission to his magic, the chains connected to the ceiling rattled with an awful metallic screech. The most horrifying part was that the man violating Mother kept his eyes on me the entire time. He grabbed her hair at the peak of her climax, lifted her head, and looked straight at me with a filthy smile. As if to say, ‘You’re next.’ My mind was tearing apart with rage, yet all I could do was cry. Because even though I was still a virgin, my body—already caught in his demonic grasp—had grown miserably wet with hot moisture while hanging from the ceiling under the curse of hypnosis.”
“……Haa, haa.”
A ragged breath escaped me before I could stop it. This was a level of hypnotic training with hellish detail that no extra in the original novel could have known about. No—even I, who had read the original as a reader, had never imagined anything like this. A mother steeped in pleasure while her daughter hung from the ceiling watching. And the daughter, forced to watch it all and driven into heat against her will. That bastard President truly deserved to be called an artist.
My bandaged hand trembled faintly as I focused on my mother’s voice. She read the obscene text without the slightest understanding of what it meant. I thought to myself,
That worthless extra threw away treasures like these just because he couldn’t keep his hands off one maid.
The memory of the greedy extra’s death—killed by his own shortsighted lust without considering the consequences—chilled my mind. In just a few days, the protagonists of these journals—the mother who had fallen for a false love, and the daughter broken between hatred and pleasure—would stand before me as my complete and perfect possessions.
The wait was agonizing, but this was no time to drown myself in lewd fantasies. The cold gaze my father had given me earlier flashed through my mind. He had said that to become the master of this family, one must obsess over one’s possessions.
That’s right. If only to fully enjoy what belongs to me…
With a hand that could barely move, I took hold of my mother Carna’s hand. Cold, smooth skin met my fingertips.
I have to get rid of Father. To claim every ounce of power in this family, the authority to make contracts with the President, and to turn that mother-daughter pair of knights into my perfect dolls…
I gave Carna my command in a low, secretive voice.
“Mother. Starting tomorrow, secretly copy every letter that leaves Father’s study. Since he is a mage and sensitive to the flow of mana, never use any magic tools. Copy them exactly using only your own hands. Also, thoroughly check whether he is sending any secret orders to the President.”
“Yes, Master.”
Now that I could control the doll that was my mother with commands of a higher priority than my father’s, her obedient reply brought a chilly smile to my lips. With my recently recovered hand, I took the journal myself.
To perfectly welcome the “goods” that would arrive in a few days, I began preparing to become the true master of this Blake County Estate. And to do that, I first had to remove my death flag.
If things follow the original story, tomorrow is the day.
The day the worthless extra would once again summon the maid he had violated the night before, show his insane obsession, and have his throat slit by the blade of the apprentice knight who had scaled the estate wall to avenge his fiancée. Since I had coldly driven away the maid who triggered that death flag yesterday, all I had to do was safely get through today.
That was how it was supposed to go.
But…
“Young Master! Hic… Please, just this once, show me mercy.”
The next morning, the fourth journal in hand, the new maid Emily came to me just like yesterday. The woman I had kicked out of the room only the day before now bowed deeply the moment she entered, her voice thick with tears as she begged desperately.
“Please… please let me serve you.”
Her body was trembling so violently it looked like it might collapse at any moment.
“I told you. I have no need for the service of an ugly woman.”
“Young Master, please…! If I cannot serve you, Master said he will throw me out. My family is poor, and my elderly parents’ hospital bills are barely covered by my salary. If I lose this job, my whole family will end up on the street.”
A classic tragic heroine line straight out of an adult novel. In the original story, the worthless extra had used this very “family situation” to blackmail and violate her.
As expected of a world built on an adult novel, was the world itself now forcing the death flag of the extra onto me simply because I was trying to claim the main heroines? No, that couldn’t be it.
I sat crookedly against the headboard and looked down at her coldly. At 184 centimeters tall, my imposing frame made Emily gasp for breath.
“Are you a virgin?”
“Th-that is… I have a fiancé who is an apprentice knight, but…”
“You crazy bitch!”
I roared. Emily hiccupped and shrank her shoulders.
“Have you never once thought that if you ever told that man what happened with me, that furious apprentice knight would scale the wall and slit my throat? You want me to risk my life for your shallow sense of filial duty?”
“N-no! I will absolutely keep it a secret! I swear I will never tell my fiancé even if it kills me!”
Emily cried out in desperation. With violently shaking hands, she began to undo her clothes. Her pale skin and the enormous breasts she was so proud of spilled into view.
“A-Adam… I mean, my fiancé… he really loved my breasts. So please, at least let me serve you with my chest. Please don’t throw me out!”
An overwhelming volume swayed before my eyes. The instincts of a man in his mid-thirties surged wildly, but I desperately clung to reason.
Damn that father of mine. Feeding his son a death flag disguised as a nourishing tonic. It was murder wearing the mask of goodwill.
But I decided to use this card in reverse.
“Fine. If you’re that desperate, I’ll let you serve me—if you do one favor for me.”
“I-I’ll do anything!”
“Take that service to my father instead.”
“……Pardon?”
Emily looked up at me with a stupid expression. I twisted the corner of my mouth and drove the nail in deeper.
“Tell him it’s a special gift from his son who is worried about his health. That way you won’t be thrown out, and I won’t get dragged into any annoying business. Do you understand what I mean?”
The obviously simple-minded Emily thought for a moment, then seemed to reach the simple conclusion that receiving the Count’s favor would ensure her family’s livelihood. Her face brightened with relief as she nodded.
“I will do as the Young Master wishes!”
She hurriedly straightened her clothes and left the room. If her fiancé came for revenge, his target would no longer be me, but my father. And the apprentice knight would die at my father’s hands, not at the hands of a bedridden patient like me.
It would be nice if he took him along as a traveling companion to the afterlife.
But that was probably unlikely. According to the brief description in the original, my so-called father was a fairly skilled mage. An ordinary apprentice knight would be powerless before his magic. So I simply hoped Father would take care of him and waited for my mother, who would be arriving soon.
Time passed. When the sun began to set, the door opened and Mother Carna entered. But something was strange. The expressionless facial muscles of my usually doll-like mother were twitching ever so slightly.
“Son. Master… was very pleased to receive such a precious gift.”
It seemed Father had gladly accepted and enjoyed Emily’s service. Yet the voice delivering this news was different from usual. While it carried no emotion as always, beneath that flat tone lurked a murderous aura so chilling it raised goosebumps.
Even though she is a doll whose ego has been completely stolen, she still possesses a bizarre attachment and monopolistic desire toward the ‘Master’ who has ruled her for so many years, at least on a minimal level of discernment.
It wasn’t strange at all. That very attachment and monopolistic desire toward her Master was the root cause of all the incidents and accidents in the original work, Making a Wife Through Hypnosis.
The fact that her Master was happily enjoying the body of a young maid had clearly stimulated the instinctive jealousy that still lingered somewhere in the depths of the doll’s heart.
This… I can use this far more effectively than I thought.
I smiled inwardly at the discovery of yet another fatal joker I could use to destroy my father.
A moment later, Mother had once again perfectly suppressed her boiling emotions and returned to being an obedient doll. She approached my side and opened the fourth journal that Emily had left behind.
“Master specially ordered me to read this one to the end as well.”
I sank deeper into the bed. Now Father had become the target of a murderer, and I could safely sit in the spectator seats, simply enjoying the records of corruption sent by the mother and daughter until the day their training was complete.