A Manipulated Miracle, An Ugly Truth
The count had been unconscious for two days. In that time, Carna had stayed by her husband’s bedside exactly as I commanded, tending to him with flawless, devoted care.
‘A brain-dead wife nursing her vegetative husband with such utter devotion. Heh heh heh. To outsiders, it must look like a miracle.’
On the surface it was a tear-jerking display of marital love, but in reality it was nothing more than the mechanical movements of a doll executing her owner’s orders. Nevertheless, the fact that Carna—who had only ever moved at the count’s command—now appeared to be acting with genuine devotion made the longtime servants, including the butler Hans, shed tears of joy. They called it a miracle amid the family’s misfortune.
‘Father really is something else. For over twenty years he used my mother as a literal doll while painting himself as a tragic, devoted husband… Heh heh. And all the while he was secretly messing with the maids behind everyone’s back.’
The moment I ordered her to uncover the count’s secrets, Carna had immediately written down several facts for me. Among them was the revelation that some of the maids the delinquent extra was said to have touched were actually victims of the count himself. He had paid a cheap-rate hypnotist to implant false memories, shifting the blame onto his own son.
‘And the reason that original-story delinquent extra got his disgrace exposed by Karin… Heh. It was all because the count was furious that his son had snatched a maid he’d been saving for himself. The old bastard had pulled strings from behind the scenes.’
A shiver ran through me at truths the original novel could never have revealed. There was a strange, savage satisfaction in seeing the death flags that had once driven the son to his doom now falling squarely on the father instead.
‘Well, satisfaction is one thing… Tsk. The goods will be arriving soon. The problem is that this body of mine isn’t in any condition to fully enjoy those supreme women.’
I would soon have to ravish the knight mother and daughter once they arrived as perfectly remade dolls, yet my own body was still covered in full-body bruises and couldn’t leave the bed.
‘…According to the original story, that shouldn’t be an issue.’
There was no need to worry about how to handle them in this inconvenient shell. Because the protagonist of the original novel—the man known only as The President—was the kind of monster who would spare no expense or method to ensure his clients could enjoy their purchased goods in peak condition.
‘He’ll definitely send that “ace” to check on the payment and adjust the customer’s physical state.’
The moment that cynical, certain thought left my lips in a bitter smirk, a special guest dispatched by the church arrived directly at the sickroom where my father and I were staying.
“May the guidance of light dwell upon this house.”
The woman who appeared in pure white priestly robes was none other than the main heroine of volume one—the very same woman who had sat on my bedroom windowsill the night before, letting out shameless, lewd moans. Yet the face she wore now held not a trace of the carnal allure I had seen behind the mask last night.
‘Heh heh heh. Above all, with that black hair and silver eyes, no one would ever suspect she’s that same seductive vixen.’
Where had the figure I saw last night gone? The skintight leather suit that looked ready to burst, the bewitching white hair, the golden eyes gleaming with lust—every trace had vanished. Instead, lustrous jet-black hair cascaded over neatly arranged white robes, and clear silver eyes brimmed with spotless compassion.
The “doll” The President had crafted with such care possessed perfect camouflage functions, even changing the color of her hair and eyes to suit the situation. To anyone who didn’t know the original story, she was the very picture of holiness—the Saintess of the Empire herself, so perfect one would want to drop to their knees and kiss her feet.
I raised myself slightly on the bed and spoke with the flawless, courteous etiquette a secular noble was expected to show a member of the clergy.
“It is an honor to receive the Saintess, the Empire’s merciful sunlight. For you to grace our humble count’s estate in person after hearing of our family’s tragedy is a tremendous honor.”
My perfect performance drew a compassionate smile to the Saintess’s lips. But I didn’t miss the fleeting glimpse of the greedy golden gleam I had seen the night before, flashing behind those clear silver eyes.
She smiled at me as if seeing me for the first time, her expression radiant and holy.
“Upon hearing the sad news of the count—who has long been such a generous patron of the church—I felt compelled to come in person, however inadequate I may be, to offer prayers of healing.”
After offering her condolences, the Saintess began to explain the church’s understanding of the recent terrorist incident. The story deviated little from the original novel.
“It truly is a tragic affair. The perpetrator, a young knight aspirant, is said to have become enraged after drinking with his lover Emily, a maid employed at the count’s estate. She apparently complained that the count had forced her to endure ‘terrible things.’ I do not know where he obtained the mana bomb in his madness, but he attacked the count all the same.”
The Saintess let out a soft sigh and continued.
“The attacker was caught in the count’s defensive magic and completely annihilated, leaving not even a corpse. As for his lover, Miss Emily, who had been suspected of instigating the terror, she merely voiced her grievances and there is no evidence she directly orchestrated the attack. Therefore, neither imperial law nor the church will press charges against her. On the contrary…”
I barely managed to suppress the smirk that threatened to curl my lips as I watched the Saintess of the Empire trail off.
“…There is one thing I must confirm with you, young master. Did the count—who had lived such an upright life for so many years—truly commit those horrific acts against the Emily sisters?”
At her question, I put on an expression of profound grief and injustice, rubbing my face with dry hands.
“Saintess, that is an outrageous slander! People might believe it if you said the delinquent son had touched the maid, but my father is different.”
I trembled with the voice of a devoted, grief-stricken filial son.
“My father is a noble man who loves only my mother! For him to lay a hand on a mere maid? That vulgar woman must have harbored a grudge and coerced my fiancée into giving false testimony. I beg you, in the name of the church, please expose her lies!”
Perhaps my wholehearted performance had been convincing. The Saintess’s clear eyes rippled gently. Of course, deep within those eyes I could see sticky fascination at this perfect fraud.
She approached and warmly took both my hands in hers.
“Ah… How deeply moving it is to see a young master who so firmly believes in his parents’ innocence and seeks the truth. Your kind and beautiful heart must surely have reached the gods.”
At that moment, brilliant light burst from the Saintess’s hands. It was overwhelming holy power. A warm energy swept through my entire body in an instant, and the throbbing pain in my bones and the bruises covering my skin melted away like a lie. The 184-centimeter giant who had been confined to bed returned to perfect condition in a single breath.
The Saintess’s overwhelming holy power instantly healed all bruises and internal injuries, restoring the body to peak condition.
“Th-this is…!”
“It is a miracle brought forth by the young master’s profound filial piety…”
Thanks to the Saintess’s compassionate miracle, I was now in the best possible condition to fully enjoy the “goods” that would soon arrive. But her miracle did not stop there. She turned toward my father’s bed and began pouring a massive amount of holy power into the vegetative count.
‘Tsk. What a pointless gesture… It seems that without specific orders from her owner, she faithfully plays the role of the “Saintess” as programmed.’
Just moments ago I had been rejoicing over obtaining everything in the family, yet the prospect of my unwanted father’s recovery made my brow furrow. Still, this was precisely why she was the main heroine of volume one, so I decided to accept it calmly.
—Ugh.
With a short groan, the count’s eyes snapped open.
“…Oh, God… Saintess, thank you.”
“It is nothing. This is all a miracle brought about by the count’s pure heart, which has performed good deeds in accordance with the Lord’s will for so long. Though you have regained consciousness, you will need to rely on a wheelchair for some time. Please take care of your health. Now, if you will excuse me.”
The Saintess listened to the count’s thanks—he had risen as if he had known he would recover—with an expression that suggested she had expected nothing less. She left behind a compassionate smile and departed without lingering.
Inside the firmly closed sickroom, only my father, Carna, and I remained.
The first to break the silence was my father.
“……Were you surprised? In truth, although my body remained in a vegetative state, my consciousness awoke clearly this morning.”
“Father…”
“I heard every word you said to the Saintess just now in my defense. I’m sorry, my son. Forgive this father who doubted you all this time.”
With a bitter expression, the count confessed a rather shocking truth.
“When I realized that your mother was actually my puppet doll, the look in your eyes as you gazed at her was far too covetous. I feared you might desire your father’s exclusive property, so I tested your patience with women like Emily.”
He let out a deep sigh.
“But in the darkness of unconsciousness, I heard your true heart and realized the truth. You are not some unfilial beast who would covet your father’s doll. From now on, tell me anything you desire. Except for your mother, I will buy you every woman in the world.”
His voice overflowed with infinite trust and affection for his son. Yet I stood quietly, looking down at his face while sharpening cold, icy reason inside my mind.
‘A perfect performance.’
Everything fit together so neatly it was almost unpleasant. The Saintess’s visit, the perfectly timed miracle, and my father’s dramatic confession. I reminded myself that the world I now inhabited was a insane setting where hypnosis, deception, and acting were everyday tools among the high nobility.
I could not be certain whether my father had truly come to trust me, or whether this too was an elaborate act meant to lower my guard and lead to whatever outcome he desired. What was certain, however, was that I must not let my guard down and take those kind words at face value.
I roughly tore off the annoying bandages that had been wrapped around my body and cracked my stiff neck from side to side.
Crack. The refreshing sound of joints popping echoed through the room.
“You would buy me every woman except my mother? That is far too generous, Father.”
I pictured the perfect prey that would soon be placed before me and smiled a bitter smile.
“The only women I desire right now are two. The arrogant knight commander who used the excuse of ‘education’ to beat me into this state… and the immature female knight who, drunk on her own petty sense of justice, insulted both me and our family.”
Upon hearing my answer, my father—despite the inconvenience of needing a wheelchair—let out a bizarre, wheezing laugh.
“Hahaha! Kahahaha! Yes, that’s my son!”
His face was filled with rock-solid trust and pride. He lavished praise on the idea of dominating and claiming beautiful women who showed hostility toward him, declaring that such behavior was the true dignity befitting the next head of House Blake.
Yet deep within his kindly smiling eyes lurked a sticky greed that could not be hidden.
“Heh heh heh. Then we must prepare a very special place to welcome that knight mother and daughter who will soon belong to our family. Yes… A grand party that will announce to the world that the once-noble knight commander has been perfectly completed by hypnosis and now belongs to us father and son! A magnificent celebration that will show everyone that her daughter will become our son’s wife!”
Even as his paralyzed lower body twitched, the count could not conceal his grotesque excitement—like an old, greedy collector on the verge of snatching a top-tier trophy that someone else had painstakingly crafted and claiming it for his own bed.
‘Our father and son… Heh. It seems even his reason has been paralyzed by the accident.’
The moment I met that gleaming gaze, I saw straight through his true intentions. The old raccoon was rotten with greed. He wasn’t merely planning to dip his spoon into the meal his son had prepared—he intended to snatch the entire feast for himself.
Part of me wanted to snap that tenacious windpipe right then and there, but I coldly suppressed the boiling murderous intent.
‘Tsk. When you think about it, the fact that this bastard survived is perfectly natural according to the original story.’
The monster who was both the protagonist and The President had been protecting the personal safety of his VVIP clients for decades as part of the service that came with the enormous sums they paid.
‘Heh. In any case, that man was nothing more than an extra who would exit the stage miserably with just a few lines in the middle of volume two. I will survive in this delinquent body, but I have no reason to keep you alive as well.’
So I would simply lay the perfect stage for the old man to walk willingly into the swamp of his own ruin. While I enjoyed the two dolls to my heart’s content, I would wait for him to be naturally erased from the world in a manner close to the original story.
“Father, then please prepare the greatest stage worthy of receiving ‘my possessions.’ One where everyone will look up to the dignity of House Blake and the women who belong to me.”
Pretending not to notice his ugly intentions, I answered with the sincerity of the most loyal son in the world.
“Hohoho, yes. Very well! I am quite looking forward to seeing how you will tame those fierce female knights, my son.”
My father nodded in satisfaction. He immediately gave an order to Carna, who stood beside him, with a jerk of his chin. My mother, the doll who had lost her ego, moved mechanically to bring the wheelchair from the corner. The count entrusted his body to the chair she pushed, smiling like a predator who had successfully completed a hunt, and left the room.
The sound of the wheelchair wheels rolling down the corridor left a strange lingering echo.
With a click, the door closed. Alone at last, I lightly swung my arms and legs, now free of bandages. Thanks to the Saintess’s holy power, there was no pain at all. Instead, a light and sharp sensation far superior to anything I had felt before possession coursed through my entire body.
“Well then, before I put this body to use, shall I loosen up a little?”
An explosive energy—on a completely different level from the fat, sluggish middle-aged body I had possessed—flowed through my veins. To perfectly subdue those haughty knight mother and daughter on the bed once the top-grade toys were delivered to the mansion, I would first need to properly train this overflowing male stamina.
With a pleasant smirk, I headed for the training grounds to warm up my stiffened body.