Chapter 45
Chapter 45
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: Underground
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“That... I feel a bit sorry toward the late butler.”
“What for?”
“...I borrowed something from the mansion on my way out.”
She put it so nicely—stole. Ian let out a hollow laugh and stared at her as if to say, go on. It was less outrageous and more utterly ridiculous.
“I had no choice. Didn’t you tell me to quit?”
“Yeah, yeah. I did.”
“I had to leave the mansion, and I needed money until I found a new job. But I’d gone into the butler’s room a few times on your behalf, hadn’t I?”
She meant she’d taken what she’d eyed during those visits. What nerve. Of course they’d suspect the one who quit when something went missing?
“A dozen or so others quit around then too. For different reasons, but the madam got really sensitive. The beatings got worse every other day, and the whole mansion was a mess.”
“Mary Madam? What happened?”
“I never got hit myself, so I don’t know, but she seemed really stressed. Weird spots all over her arms and legs, anyway, I figured I’d end up dead from the beatings if I stuck around.”
Since she was quitting anyway, she figured she could slip out in the crowd. The only item in the butler’s room with a lock—so she assumed it was valuable—and took it.
Ian guessed as much and asked,
“But it turned out worthless, huh? You don’t look happy.”
“Yeah. Well, it was just a bunch of old letters and pictures he’d collected. Feels like I stole his memories. If it’d been money, I wouldn’t feel this way.”
Haena confessed she’d lost sleep over the guilt. She set her sibling down and opened the bottom drawer to pull out a stack of paper envelopes.
“If you’re holding a funeral, could you take them and burn them for me? I feel like I’ll get struck by lightning if I keep them.”
Ian nodded and naturally handed them to Berik, who habitually peeked inside and rifled through, as if checking for anything useful.
“Berik.”
“Huh? What? Can’t I look?”
“Put them away properly.”
Ian was about to click his tongue when a single sheet slipped from Berik’s fingers. It was a mansion floor plan the newly hired butler had referenced to grasp his duties efficiently.
“Give it here. I’ll put it back.”
“Wait a sec.”
“Wow. You won’t let me see it.”
“Quiet. Hold still.”
It was a Bratz mansion floor plan, no different from what Ian knew. Detailed by floor, perfect down to the windows and doors of each room. But why...
“Something feels off, and I can’t tell what.”
“Off? What’s that mean?”
“Like it’s not harmonious.”
“Let me see. Hmm.”
At Ian’s words, Berik and Haena leaned in, eyes narrowing. Haena meticulously compared it to her memories of working at the mansion but found no major differences.
“Nothing particularly weird? It’s the same as now.”
“If anything’s different, it’s that the garden was bare back then?”
“The garden was bare?”
Berik pointed to a single tree in the floor plan. Simply drawn, but Ian recognized it as the willow closest to the annex.
“Floor plans like this usually omit landscaping. Drawing every bush and tree in detail would take forever...”
Ian trailed off. Right—floor plans typically skipped landscaping.
But why was this tree drawn here?
It could be meaningless doodling by the draftsman, but this was a document for the estate manager. It made more sense to assume intent.
“Berik. Let’s hurry back to the mansion.”
“Why! Tell me too.”
“Haena, I’ll contact you again. Once the mansion’s sorted, I’ll need people to help. Ideally, the former servants who quit.”
“I’ll ask around. Count me in, obviously. I was wondering how I’d eat.”
Ian smiled at Haena’s words and undid a cuff button for her. It was from the clothes he’d worn to the reconciliation ritual. One button would stave off hunger for now. Whether any jeweler would take it in this mess was another issue.
“Consider it a signing bonus.”
“Th-thank you. You’re amazing, young master. You always show up when we’re starving to help.”
“Guess that’s why I met you.”
“Then I’ll find my reason for meeting you. The stablehand uncle seemed unhurt. I think I saw him yesterday.”
“Ah. Yeah. I saw him too.”
“Come back anytime. I’ll contact you right away.”
“Yeah. Take care.”
Ian finished his farewell with Haena and raced back to the mansion. Without even dismounting, he headed straight to the annex to find the tree in the floor plan.
‘That must be it.’
Its branches hung unusually low. Beneath it, Cheonryeo tribesmen gathered in small groups, burning and smoking Gurut Leaves.
“Young master Ian?”
“What brings you here?”
“Could you keep watch for a bit?”
“Keep watch? Hey, you do it.”
The annex was charred black, pocked with craters here and there. No doubt the bodies of servants killed in the fire were buried there.
Was it the eerie aura? The Central Army and investigators hadn’t glanced that way, but better safe.
“Keep the Central Army and investigators from seeing.”
“Hmm. Got it. You doing business here?”
“Yeah. Step aside for a moment.”
The Cheonryeo tribesmen moved without question and stood guard along the wall. Berik held the floor plan upside down, comparing it to the tree nonstop.
“This the spot?”
“Yeah. So stop standing around and dig.”
“Ugh. Actual shoveling, huh? Lucky me~!”
They’d pinpointed the tree, but that was it. Something hidden for sure, yet no trace remained. Berik drew his dagger and scraped the ground meticulously.
“But if we find Mary and Chel, you gonna kill them yourself?”
“As if. I wouldn’t kill them that easily.”
Ian replied, fingering the grass. Its toughness felt different.
“Better to keep them alive for now.”
“What’s that mean?”
“So they’ll run far, far away.”
Fake grass.
Ian took Berik’s dagger and wedged it into the seam. The ground levered up like a pry bar. Even the Cheonryeo tribesmen chewing Gurut Leaves from afar looked over curiously.
Creak.
A staircase to a secret space appeared. A spiral stone stairway led to a basement. The floor was damp to the touch. The seam between door and ground was recent.
Meaning someone had used it lately.
“Found it. Berik. Get ready quick.”
“Got it. Why the rush?”
“Pathetic. It’s not just us chasing Bratz.”
“Who else? Erica?”
“Yeah. Bring a lantern—no one can notice.”
* * *
Mary stared blankly at the flickering wick.
Noise echoed along the ceiling and walls. Likely outsiders who’d newly taken the mansion. Otherwise, her husband Derga would’ve come for her and her son.
In the tunnel admitting no ray of light or breath of air, Mary Madam felt the deepest despair of her life.
“Mom. I’m hungry.”
“Eat some jerky.”
“Is that all we have?”
Chel perched on the cot, whining. Not his age to act like that—what was wrong with him! For the first time, Mary found her son pathetic.
“Should we try moving the back door?”
“It’s sealed with molten iron. Don’t hurt yourself pointlessly—sit and conserve strength.”
A space like an underground prison. The secret exit had been blocked by Derga’s father against intruders. Understandable given the bad blood with the Cheonryeo Tribe then, but what a self-inflicted wound.
“How long are we doing this?”
“Just a bit longer. Opportunity in a few days. We’ll rest easy back in Fontrol—hang in there.”
Mary planned to head via Merelrof territory to her family home. Traitor for life, hiding forever, but family would help somehow.
Mary pried jewels from her nails one by one, rubbing them on her dress. Gems she’d dismissed as cheap would now buy her freedom.
Thud. Thud.
Then—footsteps, like hallucination. Mary reflexively doused the lantern, Chel ducking behind the cot. Pitch black, a faint yellow light swayed from afar.
Gasp!
Someone was coming! They’d found the mansion’s secret space, tracking their traces! Mary clutched her dagger with trembling hands, holding her breath.
‘Derga, is that you? Hurry, hurry...’
Give me a sign.
But despite Mary’s desperate wish, the voice echoing off stone walls was unfamiliar yet familiar. A shadow stretched long across the wall.
“Are you there? Mother, Brother Chel.”
“...H-how did you...!”
Two months since she’d heard it, but she knew instantly. Ian.
Ian scanned the secret space, frowning in surprise. Red-painted warriors followed him... Cheonryeo tribesmen!
“H-how in the world...”
“Wow, dug a tunnel. Derga’s something else.”
“Empire nobles all make a bolt-hole like this, right? Cowards who’d rather flee than fight to the death.”
“But no exit back there?”
“Yeah. True.”
Mary’s mind blanked. She’d assumed investigators and Central Army occupied the mansion. How were Ian and Cheonryeo tribesmen here?
But only for a moment.
“Iaaaaan!”
Screeech!
Mary shrieked hysterically and lunged at Ian. She believed Ian had tipped off Molin to expose Derga and incited the Cheonryeo Tribe to break the alliance.
At the woman’s sudden attack, a Cheonryeo warrior swiftly seized her wrist.
“Aaack! It hurts!”
She flailed to shake him off, but couldn’t escape the brute grip. The warrior easily snatched and tossed the dagger, bound Mary Madam, and pinned her to the wall.
Thud!
“What insolence! You filthy wretches! Rootless mongrels!”
“Mother. I heard you’d gotten extreme, but this is worse than I thought?”
“Shut up! Shut up! It’s all your fault! Your fault!”
Ian raised the lantern to examine Mary’s face closely. Sunken eyes, blackened skin, bloodshot yellowed sclera. Chapped lips in ruins. Not a healthy spot.
Chel, meanwhile, was just thinner and dustier—no real change.
‘...What’s going on?’
Ian frowned, sensing something unnatural in Mary Madam’s transformation.