"Your letter? Yes, I received it yesterday and read it right away. Since you've benefited from the Palzgraff family's grace and stayed here for a long time, I believed you'd welcome me. I thought you'd help me stay comfortably in the mansion, out of gratitude for raising you! But how different the reality was. Your letter was filled with nothing but petty excuses and malicious attempts to keep all the good things to yourself! I never imagined you'd intend to leave me, an old woman with nowhere to go, to starve to death in the streets!"
"I never intended such a thing! I may have tried to help you out of past affection, but I never once thought of leaving you to starve!"
"Donât raise your voice at me! Then tell me, were the reasons you listed in that letter even true? Is this mansion really guarded by merciless inspectors? Is the Countess truly bedridden? Where are all these supposed dangers you mentioned?"
Uh-oh. Suddenly, I had nothing to say. The sloppy lies I had thrown together to keep Joanne away were now coming back to haunt me.
I thought those excuses would at least keep her from coming hereâat the very least, delay her. After all, the temple knew she had embezzled my support funds, so it seemed logical she wouldnât dare come to a place guarded by law enforcement. But here she was, shattering those expectations.
"Don't even think of lying again! As soon as I arrived, I asked someone passing by, and they told me there was no such thing! The inspectors were here briefly due to some misunderstanding, and the Countess has gone to a villa to recover. The mansion is perfectly calm, and the medical ward is bustling as it prepares to admit new patients! How completely different that is from the nonsense you wrote in your letter! Isnât that right, you sly little girl?"
ãJoanne (Good) feels an ominous presence from you.ã
"Are you still holding a grudge over the money I siphoned off? Are you really going to interfere with my final rest because of a few gold coins? I truly didnât think you, Hilda, could be the type to harm others. I didnât raise you to be this cruel. But it seems cruelty is in your nature. What a shame... tsk, tsk."
I was rendered speechless by the scorn in her eyes. Clearly, guilt over the stolen 3,000 gold had been eating at her, enough that she lashed out at me. Joanne may have been classified as a good character, not harboring the intent to kill others, but my infamy seemed to provoke an intense clash with her. Still, this was over the top!
"Grandmother, I donât resent you for taking the money. Thatâs why I even reduced the reported amount of embezzlement when you left the temple. I always wanted to see you, even after you came here."
Or so Hildaâs Diary claims.
"What? Youâre telling me youâre fine with losing 3,000 gold? Now youâre spouting ridiculous lies! Do you think Iâve lost my mind just because Iâm sick?"
"Iâll say this one last time: if you want peace in your final days, youâve come to the wrong place. Please, go back to the temple. If youâre worried about money, Iâll even help you with what little I have. Iâll consider it my way of repaying the debt for raising me."
"The temple has already abandoned me! The god I served my whole life has forsaken me! Who would show me any mercy now, you ungrateful brat!"
Consumed with anger, Joanne swung her fist at me. Of course, it cut harmlessly through the air, and her arm fell limply onto the bench. But as I watched her glare at me with molten eyes and her round shoulders heaving with rage, I felt a sudden chill run down my spine.
Sure, itâs tragic that sheâs terminally ill, but who told her to embezzle from the temple? What did she expect? Even the temple couldnât overlook it.
And yes, the 3,000 gold stung. Iâd never even handled 1,000 gold in black-market money before, let alone 3,000. Thatâs enough to buy three legendary pillows! The thought of losing that much money as a kid was absurd. But since Joanne was Hildaâs sole parental figure, I had reluctantly accepted it.
Hilda may have only been cared for by Joanne out of obligation, but calling 3,000 gold unreasonable for ten years of raising her felt unfair. And it happened before I entered the game. Besides, even if the money had stayed with Hilda, it was so long ago that it likely wouldnât have lasted until now.
For these reasons, I had decided to respect Joanne as Hildaâs sole guardian and treat her with decency. But now, seeing her act this way? I couldnât help but rethink that decision. Why bother stopping a moth flying straight into hellfire?
I stood up calmly and looked down at Joanne. Her wrinkled face was still twitching with unresolved fury.
"Ungrateful, ungrateful brat⦠cough, cough!"
Before long, Joanne, who had swung her fists at me twice more, clamped her hands over her mouth and coughed up blood. This time, I was genuinely startled. Why was everyone around here so sick? What should I do? Call a doctor? Give her medicine? But all I had were Adrianâs medications, and I had no idea which one to use.
"Joanne! Is that you, Joanne?"
At that moment, Hubert came running, as if he had been watching nearby.
"Oh, doctor⦠doctorâ¦"
To me, Hubert looked like the grim reaper. To Joanne, he seemed like a miraculous savior. She immediately softened, her eyebrows drooping as she clung to him like a drenched puppy. The anger and disdain she had shown me vanished into thin air at the sight of him.
"Hilda, wait here while I take care of this," Hubert said, gently helping Joanne toward the medical ward.
I nodded but couldnât tear my eyes away from Joanneâs staggering figure. Let it go. She wonât listen anyway.
Kicking at the dirt beneath my feet, I waited until Hubert returned.
"Oh, Hilda! How commendable of you to bring the young masterâs guest here yourself. I was so worried she might run off midway, despite the priest escorting her. Youâve done well to reassure her!"
"Sheâs the young masterâs guest? I thought she was here to be treated by you."
"Well⦠technically, this mansion belongs to the young master, so anyone who enters is considered his guest."
"Is that so?"
"In any case, youâve done a wonderful job. Iâll be sure to inform the young master. Given her condition, it was urgent to bring her here, and your actions prevented any mishaps. Excellent work."
Hubertâs words, while coated in praise, confirmed my suspicion: Joanne had been brought here as some kind of sacrifice for Adrian. The unsettling part was that Hubert seemed to view Adrianâs âconditionâ as a mere peculiarity. Was there truly a condition that required murder to improve oneâs health? If so, Hubertâs nonchalance about it was even more bizarre.
"The young masterâs health is crucial to the future of this family. By serving him, youâve made a noble contribution to the household and all who dedicate themselves to it. You should be proud."
Hubert patted my shoulder warmly, but the devotion and reverence in his gaze were chilling. Once he left, a white notification flickered before my eyes:
ãYou have handed over a good character to the demonâs assistant! Your infamy continues to rise!ã
Sure, my growing infamy meant I could enhance my skills, but it didnât feel good. Alone, I lingered in the garden, replaying the moments when Joanne walked desperately toward her final resting place and when she furiously lashed out at me.
I glanced toward the ominous hospice and the eerily quiet mansion, took a deep breath, and smoothed out the dirt I had kicked earlier. Clearing my mind, I walked away with a lighter step.
Itâs just a game, after all!
When Adrian discovered my game system, I was so shaken that he gave me special leave to rest until dinner. That left me with three hours of free time. How should I lazily and efficiently spend it? I folded my arms and surveyed my modest room from the edge of my bed.
A childrenâs alphabet book Emily had gotten for me? Not today. I wasnât in the mood to study. After spending over a decade as a student in Korea, I wasnât about to study inside a game. No way.
Pulling weeds for XP? Not a bad idea, but gaining one experience point at a time wouldnât amount to much in three hours. Iâd rather go back to Adrian and let him pressure me into showing gratitude or remorse.
A quick trip to town? Not enough time.
"Sleeping is the best option."
As someone whose job was physically demanding, resting was the best investment I could make. After being shocked by Adrian and berated by Joanne, I desperately needed it.
Good. This was a wise and careful decision. Nodding solemnly, I spread out my blanket. Like handling a crown at a coronation, I reverently placed my pillow on the bed.
I couldnât help but think: do other game characters treat their pillows this way? Adrian must be lucky, having six legendary pillows. But why does he need six? One for his head, arms, legs, and back? Greedy demon. Couldnât he spare one?
"Oh, right. I was going to test the Sleep Tight skill."
Thinking about Adrian reminded me of the events earlier in the day. Though he had already discovered the system, I still wondered how he figured it out. Was it just from watching me wave my hand in the air? I could have been swatting at a fly! Maybe if I used Sleep Tight on myself, Iâd notice the difference between sleeping normally and under the skillâs effect.
And so, I decided to use the skill on myself.
"Iâm also curious about Hildaâs difficulty level as a character toæ»ç¥. Iâve got three hours left, so it should be fine. Emily slept for 3 hours and 10 minutes, so I doubt itâll be longer than that."
With that, I carefully laid down on the bed, making sure to preserve my posture. According to the skill description, I could sleep without a bed, but why risk a stiff shoulder? My body deserved care.
Why hadnât I thought to use this skill on myself sooner? Excited by the thought of a great nap, I opened the skill window. Pressing the âUseâ button next to Sleep Tight, I saw a list pop up with âHilda (Me)â as the only target.
I wanted to check how long the skill would last, but my vision blurred immediately. It seemed like the hourglass icon changed into numbers, but I couldnât make them out before the overwhelming drowsiness hit me. It felt as if I were floating, my body heavy and my mind fuzzy, like Iâd been sedated.
And just like that, I passed out.
Disaster.
The moment I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the darkness outside my window. Panic set in. How could it get this dark in just three hours? Spring days were supposed to be long!
Feeling mocked by the world, I checked the clock and froze.
When I used Sleep Tight, it had been around 5 PM. I expected to wake up before 8. The hour hand should be pointing to 8âbut instead, it was pointing to 12.
12 minus 5 is⦠7. Letâs check again. 12 minus 5 is 7. This canât be right. 12 minus 5 is 7.
Did I just sleep for seven hours?
Like a fish out of water, my mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Overwhelmed, I rushed to the table and grabbed the clock, staring at its ticking second hand. It was moving at the normal pace of one second per tick. The clock wasnât running fast, which meant⦠I really had slept for seven hours?
Placing the clock back on the table, I stumbled backward and collapsed onto the bed. With trembling hands, I pulled out the mansionâs personnel roster from my pocket.
Had I forgotten about someone who mightâve slept even longer than seven hours? Fueled by desperate hope, I scanned the list three times, but my memory was clear. The shortest sleep time recorded was Adrianâs six seconds, while the longest was Emilyâs three hours and ten minutes. Just as Adrian had set the shortest time record, I had now set the longest.
With hands still shaking, I scribbled âHilda - 7 hoursâ onto the list. Seeing it written out felt both humiliating and ridiculous. Not a single servant had slept for more than four hours. The only one over three was Emily, and here I was, the weakest link in the mansion.
The hopelessness of it all made me reflect on the first moments when I entered this game. I once had foolish dreams of stopping the demon. Six-second demon versus seven-hour maid⦠In terms of gameplay difficulty, it was obvious who the mansionâs strongest and weakest characters were. In a combat mode scenario, would I even last a minute?
I imagined entering this game as a character other than Hilda. The system wouldâve been the same, allowing me to choose favor targets and test difficulty levels using Sleep Tight. I probably wouldâve added Hilda to the favor list, exploited her with tasks rated at intensity 10, and drained her of both gold and experience. Even if her favor dropped, a simple glass of water would restore it, allowing endless grinding.
Thinking about how much of a pushover the Hilda character mustâve been in the past, it made sense that she had the lowest difficulty rating. With decent physical stats, sheâd have been easy to exploit. My earlier outrage about how easy the system made things for Emily now felt laughable. Who was helping who?
Hilda was clearly the weakest character, one Iâd never pick as a player. The stress of dying constantly would outweigh any fun. And yet, here I was, stuck as her. Worse, I didnât even get to choose my character!
Frustration welled up, and tears pricked at my eyes. Where was the protagonist buff when you needed it?
After testing Sleep Tight, I confirmed what I suspected: for everyone except Adrian, the skill-induced sleep felt no different from regular sleep. Sure, it knocked me out instantly, like a tranquilizer dart, but there wasnât anything else remarkable about it. Adrianâs extraordinary awareness was just thatâmonstrous. As expected of a demon.
Speaking of Adrian, I had unintentionally skipped dinner after he told me to be there. Maybe someone had come to wake me up, but with Sleep Tight active, I wouldnât have woken up even if they had. Hopefully, he wouldnât find my absence suspicious.
I decided then and there to stop testing skills based on my half-baked assumptions. What good were they, anyway? I rested my head in my hands, feeling the beginnings of a headache from overthinking all day. Thankfully, it wasnât bad enough to stop me from tidying my bedding and standing up.
It might sound repetitive, but realizing youâre the weakest after not knowing it for so long is a shock. And what else would you expect from the weakest? Thatâs just how it is. I chuckled bitterly at the thought. Despite having slept deeply, I felt oddly alert, as if Iâd drunk two liters of coffee. Looks like the weakest wasnât getting any more sleep tonight.
âLetâs try some draws.â
I fiddled with the system, noticing the free draw button had been activated. A flurry of rainbow lightning and âcritical luckâ effects filled the screen before fading away, leaving me with the following items:
ãFourth Demonic Soul of Artã
Grade: Heroic
Feature: The fourth material for creating Adrianâs Demonic Art Piece, which significantly raises his favor. Cannot be used alone.
ãFifth Demonic Soul of Artã
Grade: Heroic
Feature: The fifth material for creating Adrianâs Demonic Art Piece, which significantly raises his favor. Cannot be used alone.
ãUniversal Herb (x3)ã
Grade: High-grade
Feature: Can be used to create any medicine. If used alone, cures one abnormal status effect.
Two heroic-grade items in one draw! Including the ones Iâd obtained previously, I now had two of the fourth soul, one of the fifth, and one of the sixth for the Demonic Art Piece.
It was unfortunate to get a duplicate of the fourth soul, but I still had more draws left. Plus, the universal herbs were a blessing. Iâd been wondering where to find the materials to craft medicine, and now I had them.
Two lucky draws in a row? While impressive, it made me uneasy. In a game designed to mess with players, smooth sailing often led to disaster. My gaming instincts screamed that something terrible was being prepared.
With a sense of foreboding, I stuffed the items into my fully expanded inventory. Carrying them around might come in handy later.
âLetâs go for a walk.â
I needed some peace of mind before facing the scolding Iâd surely get tomorrow for skipping dinner. Everyone was probably asleep by now, giving me a rare moment of solitude.
Attention, everyone, the weakest is going for a walk!
After tidying up my room, I stepped outside. It was darker and quieter than Iâd anticipated. The eerie atmosphere made me second-guess my decision. Maybe this wasnât a good idea. Typical weakest behavior. Grumbling to myself, I turned to head back, but something caught my eye.
âWho left the weeds half-pulled like this?â
A patch of overturned soil lay abandoned, with a weeder discarded nearby. Had someone run off mid-task? Retisha wouldâve been furious at such negligence. I knelt to cover the exposed soil, but the stray weeds sticking out annoyed me. Acting on instinct, I plucked a few, and suddenly, white text appeared:
ãCritical! You gained 10 XP by removing weeds.ã
Oh? This was the first critical Iâd seen since stealing Adrianâs legendary pillow. Could this be a hidden effect of the Sleep Tight skill?
ãYou gained 8 XP by removing weeds. (Nighttime work bonus: 1.5x applied.)ã
ãCritical! You gained 15 XP by removing weeds. (Nighttime work bonus: 1.5x applied.)ã
ãCritical! You gained 15 XP by removing weeds. (Nighttime work bonus: 1.5x applied.)ã
Curious, I pulled a few more weeds, and critical hits kept popping up. Although at level 15, the XP bar barely moved even with several criticals, it was a significant improvement compared to the usual slow grind.@@novelbin@@
On top of that, the game offered a 1.5x bonus for nighttime work. It was a refreshing change compared to reality, where companies might trick employees into unpaid overtime. Maybe the game developers added this bonus out of some altruistic spirit, like, âAt least you players should get compensated for your overtime.â
ãCritical! You gained 15 XP by removing weeds. (Nighttime work bonus: 1.5x applied.)ã
ãYou gained 8 XP by removing weeds. (Nighttime work bonus: 1.5x applied.)ã
ãYou leveled up to 17! (Title acquired: Demonâs Prospective Right Hand.)ã
ãYou can now add more favor targets.ã
Finally, a prediction of mine was right! Fueled by boundless energy, I cleared the entire garden of weeds, leveling up and unlocking more favor target slots in the process. With the nighttime bonus and the Sleep Tight buff, this was the ultimate combo.
Letâs think positively! Being the weakest doesnât mean I have to stay the weakest. Characters might start with different difficulty levels, but their potential depends on how theyâre raised. High-level Hilda could be a different story! Sure, if I had a choice, Iâd never pick Hilda again, but for now, Iâd take what victories I could get.
Buoyed by this newfound optimism, I yanked out weeds with gusto, humming a tune as I worked. The rhythm of critical hits made it feel like a rhythm game, but then, out of nowhere, my detection skill activated.
One corner of my vision glowed red, and my heart thudded loudly in my ears. The alarm grew louder and more insistent, but I couldnât hear or see anyone around. Could it be some shadow-stealth technique?
âAdrian?â
Setting the weeder down, I called out in the direction of the disturbance. Nothing. If not for the detection skill, I wouldnât have known Adrian was thereâit was that silent.
âMaster Adrian, are you there?â
Still no response.
âWhy are you hiding?â
The detection skill was too distracting to continue pulling weeds, so I kept calling until, finally, Adrian emerged from behind a large tree. Half-shrouded in shadow and half-lit by moonlight, he looked otherworldly. His piercing blue eyes glimmered unnervingly in the dark. What was his deal? Was he trying to shoot a horror movie by himself?
âHilda, what are you doing out here at this hour? You didnât even show up for dinner.â
So thatâs what he was upset about. Admitting fault, I immediately lowered my head.
âIâm sorry, Master Adrian. I mustâve been so exhausted that I overslept. Iâll accept any punishment⦠as long as itâs not a salary deduction. My loyalty might waver, and that wouldnât be good for you, either.â
âNo.â
Adrianâs sharp reply cut me off. What wasnât true? Could he please step out from behind the tree? Staring at a demon hidden in the shadows was doing terrible things to my heart rate.
"Dayâ"