A Prodigal Son, Yet a Filial Son
—KABOOOOOM!
A series of deafening explosions tore through the main building of the Blake County Estate, one after another. The floor trembled and the windows rattled from the sheer force of the blasts. Moments later, the firmly shut door to my bedroom burst open.
“Young master! It’s terrible! There’s been a terror attack…!!!”
It was the elderly butler, Hans, his face drained of all color. He charged into the room, only to freeze in place the instant he saw what lay before him.
“Aah… Young master…!”
Hot tears welled in Hans’s wrinkled eyes. At the end of his gaze lay my 184-centimeter frame sprawled on the floor beneath the bed, with my mother Carna desperately pinning me down.
“Some mad knight detonated a bomb and ambushed the master! The master is gravely wounded, yet the moment you heard the explosion, you tried to rush to his side despite your own injuries. And the madam, whose mind is not her own, threw herself in your way to protect your broken body!”
The butler’s voice cracked with emotion as he recalled the supposedly deep bond between father and son that had “appeared” so strong until now.
‘……Bullshit.’
I felt cold sweat trickle down my spine and quickly composed my expression. Run to save Father? What a joke. Mere seconds before the blast, I had been trying to soothe my painfully swollen lower half with Mother’s lips. The moment the explosion rang out, I had frantically yanked my trousers up and tumbled under the bed—only for this pathetic sight to be misinterpreted by the old butler as a heart-wrenching display of paternal and maternal love.
Still, the misunderstanding was far from unwelcome. In fact, it was perfect.
“……Mother, move aside! Father is in danger—how can I, his son, lie here doing nothing?”
I hurriedly put on a sorrowful, urgent expression and made a show of pushing myself up from the floor.
“You mustn’t, young master! Even if you go now, it will be too late. The knights are already handling the situation!”
Hans sniffled and helped me to my feet. In that instant, an airtight alibi was established—one that ensured no one would ever suspect I was the true cause of the explosion.
That night, as Hans recounted the full details of the incident, I could only manage a bitter smile.
Emily’s fiancé, that enraged knight aspirant, had originally climbed the wall with nothing but a single sword to kill the bedridden me in the original novel. Instead, he had wrapped his arms around a mana bomb and blown himself up in a desperate attempt to assassinate Father, the skilled mage.
‘The original death flag missed me entirely and instead removed the most troublesome obstacle—Father. What an absurdly convenient twist.’
The more I thought about it, the more chillingly ironic this distorted causality felt. Yet a cold question also surfaced in my mind.
‘But how did a mere knight aspirant obtain a mana bomb powerful enough to blow apart the main building of the estate?’
I strongly suspected someone had pulled strings from behind the scenes, but for now, it was no great loss. Father, who had taken the full brunt of the blast, had barely survived thanks to his experience as a mage—only to end up in a vegetative state, his brain severely damaged and his consciousness gone.
I had my bed moved right beside Father’s and issued an order to Mother, who stood with vacant eyes: “Nurse the unconscious Father with all your care throughout the night.”
A grotesque scene unfolded—my ego-less doll of a wife mechanically wiping and tending to her vegetative husband’s body at her son’s command. I leisurely watched while chewing on fruit.
“Kuk… Hahaha.”
I swallowed the sweet juice in my mouth and suppressed the laughter that threatened to burst out. With Father reduced to nothing more than a breathing slab of meat, this vast county estate now belonged entirely to me.
‘So easily… Everything Father obsessed over, including Mother, has fallen right beneath my feet.’
Walls have ears. I swallowed my laughter inwardly and composed my expression, savoring the fact that the real power of the county had now fallen completely—and perfectly legally—into my hands. Along with the thrill of wielding overwhelming authority I could never have experienced in my previous life, my gaze automatically fixed on Mother—no, Carna—as she mechanically wiped her husband’s body.
Amid the euphoria of standing at the pinnacle of power, the sight of that greedy body blindly guarding her vegetative husband sent a grotesque sense of depravity crawling up my spine and swelling my lower half without mercy.
Perhaps it was because the nightly routine of reading the fallen knight mother-and-daughter’s reports and relieving myself with Carna’s body had been interrupted today. Or perhaps it was the forced halt of the secret service that had continued right up until the explosion. Either way, my lower half burned with unbearable, throbbing heat.
I stared at Carna’s voluptuous back and greedy hip line as she wiped the vegetative man’s body with unfocused eyes, as if licking her with my gaze. The moment I became the head of the household in Father’s place, the noblewoman who served at the master’s command would belong entirely to me. That depraved thirst for power boiled in my brain and urged me to violate that body right then and there.
Amid the vortex of my greedy desire, the window of the now-quiet sickroom opened at some point, and a thick, sensual rose fragrance drifted inside.
“……Who’s there?”
A shadow perched on the windowsill, silhouetted against the moonlight. The woman who lightly stepped down into the room wore a mask, yet the moment I saw her figure and aura, I nearly screamed.
‘The main heroine of Part 1!!!’
Golden eyes gleamed seductively beyond a pure-white mask. Snow-white hair cascaded like a waterfall over a skin-tight black leather suit that strained against her explosively curvaceous figure. What stole my gaze most of all was the suit’s design: a daring zipper running along the deep cleavage and secret valley, allowing immediate service to the master’s capricious lust.
‘Kuh… As expected of The President. He really knows his stuff.’
The moment I recalled that the woman before me in such a whore-like outfit was the Empire’s Saintess—the main heroine of the original novel Making a Wife Through Hypnosis—I could only marvel. She had been thoroughly trained by the hypnotist President and turned into his loyal hound and right hand. Now she stood before me, radiating overwhelming sensuality.
“I bring a message from the master. Since the Count has been reduced to this state… are you still able to properly pay the reward for the request?”
She glanced briefly toward Father’s sickbed, then approached me with a captivating smile.
‘So he sent one of his own—rather, one of his dolls—to confirm payment.’
I leaned back against the headboard and gave a crooked smile.
“The real power of the county now rests with me. Funds are overflowing, so just make sure you deliver my merchandise on time and in proper condition.”
The Part 1 heroine’s eyes sparkled with interest at my firm answer and arrogant attitude. No—her gaze was fixed precisely on my lower half, not my arrogance.
“When you gave that answer just now, you looked rather frustrated…… The master instructed that I, his doll, should provide ‘special service’ to such an excellent client.”
She removed the mask covering her face, lowered the zipper on her chest, and stepped closer. Any reader of the original novel would have imagined it at least once—the overwhelming body of the Part 1 heroine hidden beneath the name of Saintess. I shuddered at the sight.
But I pushed her approaching shoulders away and drew a cold line.
“Get lost.”
“……Pardon?”
“The lust I’ve built up will only be released through my own ‘possessions.’ I have no interest in a used doll touched by someone else’s hands.”
I invoked the twisted possessiveness unique to the county family. Far from being flustered by my firm rejection, the Part 1 heroine twisted her body in a grotesque manner and curled her lips upward.
“Aaaah~~~. Hehehe. Wonderful. Such perfect self-control that refuses to lay hands on something that already belongs to another. You truly are a client who has caught the master’s interest.”
She embraced herself with an ecstatic expression, as if drowning in pleasure. My twisted insistence on respecting the value of an item by refusing the master’s own possession had stimulated her sadistic loyalty.
“If you refuse my service, I was ordered to offer you an additional request. Is there anything you desire?”
I had half-expected this. As expected of the original protagonist—he had predicted my actions and tested me. I cheered inwardly and gestured with my chin toward the vegetative Father.
“The culprit who reduced Father to this state. Even though he blew himself up, how could a mere knight aspirant breach the estate’s barrier and detonate a mana bomb? There must be a mastermind or true perpetrator who instigated him. If that mastermind is among the opposing factions within the family, hypnotize them all into submission and drag them alive to my feet. I will personally hear their ugly true intentions from their own mouths once hypnosis forces them to speak only the truth.”
Of course, I knew the truth: the knight aspirant Adam had acted alone, driven mad by his fiancée Emily. But this was the perfect opportunity to use The President’s organization to fabricate the family relatives and political enemies who stood in my way as “the masterminds behind the terror,” brand them as Father’s killers, and brainwash them all.
‘It would be even better if there really is a true culprit.’
And if that true culprit happened to be a beautiful woman, all the better.
“A justified revenge. That is exactly the kind of request the master loves most. It seems you and the master will make excellent partners……”
Having seen through my malicious intent, the Part 1 heroine bowed gracefully, like a doll. She turned back toward the window.
“The report I was supposed to deliver today will be given to you directly along with the final report and the ‘completed merchandise’ next time.”
Leaving behind a thick rose fragrance on the night breeze, the woman vanished like a mirage.
“……Crazy bitch. She could have at least left the report since she came all this way.”
I clicked my tongue in irritation and glared at the empty window frame. Her figure as she disappeared beyond it still lingered before my eyes.
‘It’s a shame. Even if it’s a poisoned chalice……’
To soothe my lower half, which had grown painfully aroused from the dizzying body and enchanting rose scent, I unconsciously turned my gaze toward Carna standing beside the sickbed.
“……Tch.”
Only moments ago, I had wanted to ravage that greedy body like a beast, with my vegetative Father right behind us. But now……
‘……After seeing the main heroine in person, I feel nothing.’
No matter how exquisitely crafted a beautiful doll she was, she was ultimately nothing more than a supporting character—the “black sheep extra’s mother” in this world’s story. Having directly witnessed the overwhelming sensuality and class of the Empire’s Saintess, the true main heroine who had always excited me first whenever I read the original novel, my beastly lust had cooled as if it had never existed.
“Let’s just sleep.”
I roughly adjusted my aching lower half inside my trousers and leaned my head against the headboard, closing my eyes.
—Ssssss
Just as the tension left my body and heavy fatigue washed over me, threatening to pull me into sleep, a grotesque whisper echoed through the quiet sickroom.
“Hehehehe.”
I cracked open my tightly shut eyes. Carna, who had been mechanically wiping her husband’s body like a perfect doll, had pressed her lips right against the vegetative man’s ear and was whispering in a chilling, sticky voice, like a living vengeful spirit.
“……You should have kept me by your side. Then I would have protected you. This is what happens when you cast me aside.”
It was not the mechanical voice of a doll, but the lingering trace of a grotesque, sticky “possessiveness” that had risen from the depths of the abyss. Faced with the unexpected emergence of the doll’s ego, I wove countless plans to exploit it perfectly and fell asleep with a twisted smile.