Karma Comes Around (2)
"Silvia. You know as well as I do that there's not a shred of evidence I'm the culprit."
Bardo's hands and feet were still bound, but his bearing was brazenly confident. The tables had turned. The one under attack now was not Bardo — it was Silvia.
"What good is suspecting someone without proof? Think it over carefully. This is all just a misunderstanding on your part."
"…"
Even without evidence, Silvia's conviction did not waver. The uncanny ability Rix had shown her was more than enough to inspire a faith that transcended mere proof.
"If you untie me right now, I'll forgive you. We can pretend none of this ever happened."
"What a pathetic little game. You were planning to kill me either way. Even if none of this had happened, I'd still be a target for elimination."
Silvia ground her teeth in frustration. Without a lead, she couldn't punish Bardo. Of course, she could simply kill him herself — but that was another matter entirely.
If I do that, I'll be sentenced to death as well.
She would be punished for murdering her own father. In truth, she could accept that much. Killing Bardo and dying for it in return was a trade she was more than willing to make. What she truly couldn't stand was something else.
If she killed Bardo with her own hands, every evil he had committed would vanish without ever seeing the light of day. He would be remembered forever as an innocent victim. That, she could not endure.
I don't care if I die — but I will never allow Father's crimes to go unexposed.
She would drag every one of Bardo's atrocities into the open, then see him receive a rightful sentence. Every one of the former wives he had murdered had been a noblewoman. If she could just prove his crimes, the death penalty was all but guaranteed.
"Suspecting your own father without a scrap of evidence… You must be possessed by a demon. But it's all right, Silvia. I'll call a skilled priest to perform an exorcism. You'll be fine. It's not too late."
"Shut up."
"W-what?!"
"You're being noisy. Keep your mouth closed."
"You little — how dare you speak to your father like—"
Crack.
"Gaaargh!!"
A needle of Red Lightning punched straight through his thigh. Bardo writhed pitifully on the floor.
"Ghhhk. Think carefully, Silvia. Time isn't infinite! The servants will notice something's wrong and come looking soon enough. Don't do something you'll regret when that happens!"
Crack-crack.
"Gyaaaah!! You insane little—!!"
Silvia jammed a metal gag into the screaming Bardo's mouth.
"Mmph! Mmmph!!"
"Whew. Much better with the quiet."
Having sealed Bardo's mouth, Silvia stepped back and caught her breath. The silence was a relief — but she was running out of time. If this dragged on any longer, a servant might come knocking. She needed a solution, and fast.
I have to find a lead.
This was the head of the household's chambers. There might still be something left behind. Silvia began searching the room in a frenzy, rattling and yanking open every piece of furniture she could reach, hunting for anything that might serve as evidence.
Bardo watched her and laughed freely in his mind.
What a fool. I hid everything that could possibly incriminate me in the secret vault ages ago. She'll never find it.
The secret vault was concealed beneath the carpet on the floor. You had to peel back the carpet, then open a lid designed to look identical to the surrounding floorboards before you could even discover the vault. Double-layered concealment. There was no way she'd find it by blindly tearing the room apart.
Bardo was watching Silvia with smug leisure when —
Thud!
A book dropped onto the carpet. It landed directly above the exact spot where the secret vault was hidden.
Silvia picked up the fallen book.
Strange. A book falling off the shelf by itself?
As if someone had used magic, a single volume had slipped free of the bookcase without anyone touching it. Curious, she flipped it open, but found nothing unusual. She slid the book back onto the shelf and was about to walk away when —
Thud!
Another book shot out and fell. Same position. Same exact manner as before.
"What is this…?"
The eerie phenomenon made Silvia flinch. Half-suspecting, she put the book back on the shelf once more.
Thud!
Yet another book dropped in the exact same spot. The volumes were falling as though someone were shoving them out one by one. Feeling a strange pull, Silvia cleared the books aside and reached for the carpet beneath them.
"Mmph…!"
Bardo barely managed to swallow the sound rising in his throat.
W-what the hell just happened? This is absurd!
Books leaping off the shelf of their own accord and landing right on top of the secret vault. He had worse luck than a man struck by lightning on a clear day.
Silvia peeled back the carpet.
H-hah. It's still fine. There's a lid on top of the vault that looks exactly like the floor. There's no way she'll find that too.
Bardo was taking a steadying breath, reassuring himself — when a soft clatter cut through the room. Silvia lifted the lid sitting atop the vault.
"Mmmph!! Mmmph!!!"
Impossible! She found it!
In a panic, he stared at the lid she had raised. It was cracked. The impact of the falling books had shattered it.
What…? There was a carpet over it. You're telling me a little jolt like that broke the lid?
It made no sense. No scientific explanation could account for it. It defied human logic entirely. This was the kind of situation people meant when they said even a ghost would cry foul.
Silvia lifted out the cube-shaped secret vault. The iron box was heavy in her hands. She set it down on the floor with a thud and examined it in silence. A locking mechanism sat on the front.
Bardo clung to one last scrap of hope, thin as a straw.
Th-the vault is locked. Without the key, she can't open—
BOOM!
Red Lightning detonated against the vault. Bardo's hope shattered along with the door.
Heaven helps those who help themselves. In the end, Silvia claimed the vault through her own power. She calmly inspected its contents: an assortment of precious jewels, various contracts concerning titles and land, countless letters exchanged with someone — and a small glass vial.
Silvia picked up the vial. It was about half full of white powder. She pulled free the wooden stopper with a cheerful little pop, then strode straight toward Bardo without hesitation.
"Mmmph!"
She removed the gag from his mouth.
"Silvia! What do you think you're— hup."
Bardo started to shout, then clamped his mouth shut in a hurry. Silvia had tilted the vial, ready to dump the white powder inside into his mouth.
Th-that stuff — no!
Bardo sealed his lips with desperate force. Silvia tried a few times to pry his mouth open, then, seeing no sign he would yield, quietly stepped back.
D-did she give up?
He was trembling with anxiety, mouth still locked tight, when —
"Ahahaha!"
Silvia burst out laughing.
"So it really was poison. Thanks for the helpful reaction!"
It had been a bluff — and it had worked perfectly. She had found her evidence.
"Whew. It's done."
I finished the ritual feeling a light, pleasant exhaustion. Sweat soaked my whole body.
Clap clap clap clap!
Applause drifted in from somewhere nearby.
"Hanna? You've been watching this whole time?"
I turned my head to find Hanna looking at me and clapping. I'd been so deep in the trance I hadn't even noticed she was there. This used to be my profession, so I wasn't particularly embarrassed about it.
"Young master, that was incredible! Where did you learn to dance like that?"
"I practiced on my own. Nobody taught me."
I wiped away the sweat running down my face and caught my breath.
It's been a while — that took more out of me than I expected.
It wasn't the movement that was hard. I exercised regularly; a little dancing like that wouldn't leave me winded. But a gut is no ordinary dance. It's an act of pouring every scrap of your focus into communing with the gods. Body and mind both get put to work, and the stamina drain is no joke.
"Hanna. Cook something with that pig's head for me, would you?"
"What? We're eating this? I thought we were going to throw it out."
"Why would we waste perfectly good meat? We'll eat first, and if there's any left, we'll share it with the villagers."
"Understood. I'll make something delicious."
A shaman's gut was, at its heart, a kind of village feast. You laid out a grand spread of offerings for the gods, performed the ritual — and once it was over, everyone shared the food. Shamans had existed even in times when people went hungry. They would never casually throw food away.
Of course, this one was small-scale — nowhere near a full village celebration. Still, there should be enough leftover meat to share with the neighbors.
Maybe someday I'd get to hold a proper, grand gut the way I used to. I tidied up the ritual space, lost in thought.
I wonder what kind of punishment Bardo will get.
A psychopathic serial killer who had murdered multiple women. The sentence waiting for him would be…
Death, of course.
The gods are cruel. Those who take another's life always pay with their own.
I wonder how he'll die.
Death was certain. All that remained was the particular end Bardo would meet.
