"Oh my god, itâs real? I can actually use skills? Detection⦠what exactly would that let me detect? Should I try leveling up to 5 first? But would I even have a reason to use a skill?"
âGoodness, Hilda! What are you doing, cutting weeds like that? Youâre supposed to pull them out by the roots!â
âHuh? Oh⦠right.â
âWeeds just grow back if you cut them like that. Ugh, somethingâs really off with you today. You know that, right?â
Emily snatched the weeding tool awkwardly hanging from my hand and plunged it into the ground. Effortlessly, she yanked up an entire clump of weeds, roots and all.
Oh, thatâs how you do it⦠Feeling a bit embarrassed, I took the weeding tool back from her. Growing up in the city and living in apartments or tiny studios my whole life, Iâd never actually pulled weeds before. In the game, you just clicked on the weeds, and your character would handle the rest.
âSorry. I guess Iâm still half-asleep. Here, Iâll take care of this spot, that one, and over there too. You can move on to the other side.â
âReally? All of this? Thatâs a lot to handle alone. Donât overdo it.â
Emily looked surprised as she glanced at the areas I had pointed out. To her, it mustâve looked like an overwhelming chore. To me, however, it was nothing more than a field of experience points.
All that EXP is mine!
I shooed Emily away, reassuring her Iâd handle it, then gripped the weeding tool tightly.
Alright, letâs grind. Levels are king in games. If I hit max level, maybe I can get out of this game somehow.
âHow did Emily do it again? Right, like thisâ¦â
I grabbed a clump of weeds, jammed the tool into the soil near the roots, and pried it up. It wasnât as smooth as Emilyâs technique, and I left part of the roots still embedded in the dirt, but at least I managed to pull it out. Seeing the EXP bar nudge upward with each weed I pulled gave me a weird sense of satisfaction. Grinding levels through tedious tasks was the bread and butter of RPGs.
Alright, letâs do this.
Rolling up my sleeves, I got serious about pulling weeds. At first, my movements were clumsy and slow, but I gradually picked up speed. Soon, the pile of uprooted weeds beside me grew into a small mountain. I was so focused that Emily returned, concerned, and even passing servants whispered to one another as they watched me work.
ãYou have earned 1 EXP by removing weeds.ã
ãYou have earned 1 EXP by removing weeds.ã
ãYou have earned 1 EXP by removing weeds.ã
ãYou have earned 1 EXP by removing weeds.ã
ãYou have leveled up to Level 2. (Title: Mediocre Worker)ã
The constant stream of notifications filled my vision, and the experience bar at the bottom left slowly but steadily progressed.
At this rate, getting to Level 5 and unlocking a skill will be a piece of cake!
Despite spending over half the day crouched and pulling weeds, my body felt completely fine. Was it because I was in Hildaâs body, that of a servant whoâd grown accustomed to manual labor? Compared to my real-life self, my stamina and strength were on a whole other level. If this were my real body, Iâd be bedridden from exhaustion by now.
As impressed as I was by this bodyâs natural resilience, a sense of dread crept in. Am I going to spend the rest of my life here, doing manual labor? Can I even leave this world?
I was lost in thought, nearing Level 3, when I noticed something troubling: the higher my level, the more experience points I needed to progress. Typical of games, sure, but the gap was significant. If it took 100 EXP to reach Level 2, it required 200 EXP to get to Level 3. To a player, a difference of 100 EXP might not seem like much, but for me, a mere servant, it meant pulling an additional 100 weeds.
What about Level 4? Or Level 5?
Would I need to pull weeds for an entire week just to unlock one skill? As I mechanically kept working, the sheer scale of the grind loomed over me.
Isnât there some other way to earn experience? Like daily quests, weekly quests, or even achievementsâ¦
âGood heavens, Hilda! What are you pulling now?!â
Emilyâs voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Confused, I looked down at what I was holding. It was just another clump of weeds, wasnât it?
ãYou have earned 5 EXP by uprooting the Palzgraf Countâs prized kalanchoe.ã
The overly detailed notification left me dumbfounded. The Palzgraf Countâs⦠prized kalanchoe? And it only gave 5 EXP? This gameâs balance is completely broken!
âIâm so sorry, Leticia! Hilda hasnât been feeling well todayâ¦!â Emily rushed over to cover for me, looking utterly distressed.
âNot feeling well? What kind of excuse is that? Do you even realize what youâve done? How could you uproot the kalanchoe that the Count checks on every morning?!â
âFortunately, the roots arenât damaged! Iâll replant it right away, and the Count wonât even notice anything happened!â
Emily hastily smacked my hands, making me flinch. Oh, right. I had to replant it. Pretending to be terrified, I gently placed the kalanchoe back into the soil and patted the dirt firmly around it. The vivid hot-pink petals, however, had already started wilting. Emily hurriedly assured me that watering it would bring it back to life while frantically trying to calm Leticia.
Meanwhile, I nervously stared into the air. Theyâre not going to deduct that 5 EXP just because I replanted it⦠right?
âThere are more things here that arenât weeds!â Leticia fumed, rummaging through the pile of uprooted plants. Her angry shout sent shivers down my spine.
Thankfully, no message about lost EXP popped up. At least the developers had some integrity. My precious 5 EXPâ¦
âAll of this will be deducted from your wages. Do you understand?!â
âLeticia, please! Iâm so sorry! Anything but thatâplease forgive me!â
âHilda hasnât even apologized, and here you are making a fuss on her behalf.â
Leticiaâs sharp glare bore into me. Oh, so apologizing might actually help?
âIâm sorââ
âForget it! Enough groveling! Just clean up this mess! All of it!â
With that, she stormed off. Emily sighed deeply, clearly exasperated. I still felt like I wasnât fully grounded in reality.
No matter how much they looked and acted like people, they werenât real. They were just 0s and 1s, draped in pixelated facades. The breeze on my cheeks and the warmth of the sun felt disturbingly realistic, but I had to remind myself it was all just data.
Still⦠I couldnât help but feel a little guilty about Emily.
As I continued to sort through the mess of weeds under the judgmental eyes of the other servants and with Emilyâs gentle encouragement, I managed to reach Level 4 by the end of the dayâjust barely.
One thing became clear during my grind: every action I took in this world was quantified as experience points based on its difficulty.
Today, I earned experience through physical labor, but on a broader scale, even interacting with others or accompanying them could translate to experience points. The prospect made me oddly excited, like opening random loot boxes. If this were a normal game, I might actually be having fun!
âGet some rest, Hilda.â
Emily, ever kind and concerned, escorted me back to my room, likely thinking I was feeling down after the dayâs ordeal. Even her kindnessâher gaze, her toneâmust have been part of her programming.
âEmily.â
âHmm?â
She turned back to look at me, her expression attentive. My mind raced to form words.
âIâm⦠sorry about today.â
ââ¦.â
âI feel like I caused a lot of trouble.â
Apologizing to an NPC⦠it was a strange, almost surreal feeling. Awkward, I scratched my forehead. Emily, however, simply smiled warmly.
âItâs fine. Donât worry about it. Get some sleep, and Iâll see you tomorrow.â
With that, she turned and walked down the hallway, her figure disappearing into the distance. NPC or not, she truly was kind.
The moment I stepped into my roomâthe one Iâd woken up in that morningâa notification appeared in midair.
ãDaily wages received.ã
ãGold +30Gã
Oh, so there were wages? Glancing at the top corner of my vision, I saw a small â330Gâ next to a gold coin icon. That meant I had started with 300 gold, right?
But before I could celebrate, a sharp beep sounded, and another notification appeared:
ãYou have incurred damages from ruining the garden.ã
ãGold -250Gã
In an instant, the â330Gâ dropped to â80G.â I stared at the interface in stunned silence.
The absurd realism of it all hit me like a ton of bricks. It reminded me of my real-world bank account, where my meager paycheck would immediately vanish to cover credit card bills.
Losing almost all my money over a few kalanchoe plants⦠What kind of world was this where a handful of flowers cost more than an entire day of backbreaking labor?
Was I really supposed to live like this? Trapped in an unfamiliar place, working for scraps, with no phone, no escape, and no certainty of ever leaving.
The leveling system wasnât much better. Progress was slow, skills were nonexistent, and hitting max levelâif that was even possibleâfelt like a lifetime away. Based on todayâs grind, Iâd be lucky to hit max level by the time I turned 50. And who even said max level would get me out of here?
âPlease, just let me go home!â
Frustrated, I scoured the menu for anything resembling a logout option. The closest thing was âExit.â
âPlease, I just want to leave!â
Each time I clicked it, a warning appeared: ãThis option is not available.ã I kept clicking anyway, desperate. Some games had hidden bugs where repeatedly clicking an inactive button would activate it. Exploiting such bugs was a matter of player ingenuity, right?
âCome on, just work! Please!â
I muttered to myself, on the verge of tears, as I kept hammering the button. But the menu remained unresponsive.
Then, with a slight slip of my hand, I accidentally clicked New Game instead of Exit.
The menu lit up brighter than ever, the words glowing as the room filled with light.
I froze, wide-eyed.
âNo⦠no, no, noâ¦â
My feeble murmur vanished into the blinding glow. The light faded, and the first thing I heard was the sound of birds chirping.
âTweet, tweet-tweet.â
I turned my head slowly, my jaw slack. The once-dark room was now bathed in warm morning sunlightâthe exact scene Iâd woken up to before.
Looking down, I saw my clothes, previously dirtied from pulling weeds, were now spotless and crisp as if freshly laundered.
No. No way. This couldnât be happening.
With trembling hands, I opened the experience bar. Seeing the reset progress bar was like watching the last number of a failed lottery ticket being drawn.
âNo⦠no⦠my⦠my experience.â
The hard-earned Level 4 was gone. My title, Mediocre Worker, was gone. I was back to Level 1.
I sank to the floor in despair, my mouth opening and closing in disbelief.
And then, Leticiaâs voice boomed through the halls.
âHilda! Hilda! Get up already!â
The same morning was beginning all over again.
âHilda! Are you still sleeping? Go bring Master Adrian his medicine!â
âI⦠Iâm up!â
I shouted reflexively at the sound of her thunderous footsteps on the stairs. This time, Leticia didnât barge into my room. At least it seemed like I could avoid another round of endless weeding.
Still shaken, I glanced at the status bar. Though time itself had reset, I was still mentally drained. My body felt rested, my clothes were clean, but my mind was as exhausted as ever.
I sighed, resigning myself to another sleepless day. If there was one silver lining, it was that my previously lost 250 gold had been restored.
Three hundred gold. A pitiful amount, but better than nothing.
âHilda!â
Realizing Leticia might return if I delayed any longer, I rushed downstairs to the kitchen. At least the time spent grinding the day before had made the mansionâs layout familiar.
The spacious and pristine kitchen bustled with the Countâs personal chefs preparing breakfast. And, as always, Leticiaâ¦
âHilda!â
â¦was scolding me like clockwork. Maybe sheâd damage her vocal cords one day. I shuffled forward, feigning regret and submission, and she sighed deeply, shaking her head as if I were beyond saving.
With a loud clatter, she shoved a tray into my hands. It held a bowl of medicine among other items.
âTake this to Master Adrian.â
âHuh?â
âWhy are you so startled? You do this every day.â
Why me? Why did it have to be Hilda, the servant tasked with bringing medicine to a demon-possessed murderer?
Adrian might have been frail and prone to fits, but with Satan residing inside him, underestimating him was not an option. A servant like Hilda, who delivered medicine daily, was the perfect victimâsomeone easy to kill without raising suspicion.
âAh, our poor Young Master Adrian... Itâs such a pity. He canât even go out often, and to be saddled with an illness that requires medicine for life. No matter how dangerous things are outside these days, itâs still unfair that he canât enjoy freedom like others his age.â
Leticia clicked her tongue and shook her head. Reflexively, I asked,
âIs it dangerous outside?â
âHavenât you heard? Thereâs someone roaming around with a knife near here. Thereâs even a rumor that someone got stabbed. But wait, why havenât you gone to see Young Master Adrian yet? Hurry up!â
âAh, yes, yes! Iâve got everything ready. Iâm going!â
Leticia looked ready to grab me by the ear if I didnât move, so I quickly grabbed the tray and darted out of the kitchen as if fleeing. There was no one to pass this task onto, so I had no choice but to deliver the medicine myself. If I dared throw it away, Leticia might actually strangle me to death.
Carrying the tray, I nervously walked down the long hallway and entered the grand, opulent hall. Adrianâs room was on the fourth floor, in the southern wingâa large room that received plenty of sunlight and overlooked the garden. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I began ascending the stairs, step by step, all the while racking my brain for a way to avoid this dreadful task.
âHoo...â
Even though I climbed slowly, it felt like I reached the fourth floor in no time. Standing before Adrianâs room, I swallowed hard. Knowing who was inside, I couldnât muster the courage to knock.
For all its sunlight, the room was oppressively dark and eerieâfitting for the residence of a demon. Despite the pristine white walls, it felt like shadows seeped through the cracks in the door.
So scary.
My hands trembled, and the dishes on the tray clattered. That night, Iâd drunkenly started this game; I never touched horror games otherwise. Especially not ones by AComz, known for their brutal, niche aesthetic and masterful execution.
Even horror game enthusiasts would wet themselves in a haunted house escape room. And me, who canât even watch horror? Iâm living inside a horror game?
I canât do this. Absolutely not.
If I witnessed even one scene from the game play out in real life, Iâd probably have a heart attack.
âYoung Master,â I whispered his name so softly that even someone standing next to me wouldnât hear it. There was no way he could hear me from inside.
âYoung Master, are you there?â
Again, it was barely more than a breath, far too quiet for anyone to respond.
âMaybe the Young Master went out for a walk? Hmm, in that case, I suppose Iâll just have to leave the medicine here at the door...â
Perfect. No one answered, right? I did call out to check. A mere maid canât enter the masterâs room without permission. Even if Leticia questioned me later, Iâd have an excuse.@@novelbin@@
After confirming that no one was watching, I carefully placed the tray down at the door and bolted. I even earned one experience point for carrying Adrianâs medicine from the kitchen to his door.
Thus, several days passed. By waking up on time every morning, I avoided being punished with weeding. Leaving the tray at Adrianâs door each day spared me from seeing him directly, which was great. Just as we maids gathered for brief morning meetingsâessentially Leticiaâs scolding sessionsâAdrianâs daily routine was so rigidly structured that avoiding him was relatively easy.
Since leaving the tray at his door hadnât seemed to bother him, things were peaceful. If it had annoyed him, Leticia wouldâve stormed into the kitchen long ago. No murders, no ominous displays of demonic powerânone of the horrors Iâd expected had occurred yet.
From my own gameplay experience, I knew how nightmarishly difficult this game was. Killing someone without being caught was a Herculean task. On the flip side, it meant I could carry out Hildaâs duties quietly while searching for a way to escape.
Not that Iâd made any progress in the last few days...
I paused, letting out a sigh. Another fleeting notification popped up before my eyes.
ãYou gained 1 EXP for peeling onions.ã
At this rate, when would I ever unlock a skill? I glanced glumly at my meager experience bar.
Iâd managed to reach Level 4 in a single day by pulling weeds, but after the reset, my motivation had plummeted, and leveling up felt agonizingly slow. The repetitive duties of a maid yielded little experience, and deliberately going out of my way to earn praise quickly became tedious. In most games, completing main quests was the fastest way to rack up experience, but here, there wasnât even a visible quest log.
I had to unlock at least one skillâif only to find out what they were and whether they could help me escape. Right now, as a total newbie, I couldnât even see what skills existed.
It was unsettling. Even in this relative peace, I couldnât shake my anxiety.
I gnawed on my fingernail before glancing sideways. There was a specific reason Iâd come to the kitchen early today, voluntarily peeling onions.
âSigh...â
The reason was Katarina.
Emilyâs older sister, she found peeling onions particularly grueling. Iâd heard that sheâd tried to trade the task with others before, only to fail.
âSis, peeling onions looks really hard. Let me take over.â
âUh, uh-huh. Thanks...â
âIt must be exhausting doing this every morning. Iâm worried about you.â
I watched her sympathetically as she sniffled.
âYeah. Waking up in the morning is so hard already...â
âExactly. Watching you come out crying every morning breaks my heart. Itâd be great if someone could take over this job for you, right?â
âYeah, it would be amazing, but thereâs no one, so...â
She replied weakly, picking up another onion and wiping her reddened nose.
âWell then, Sis, how about I do it instead?â
âHuh? You? Didnât you refuse outright last time?â
âWell... Iâve realized I actually enjoy peeling onions. Something about mornings makes me want to dive into onion peeling. Look, I was here before you today, wasnât I? So, how about we swap jobs? You let me peel onions, and Iâll hand over my task to you.â
âWhat task?â
âDelivering Young Master Adrianâs medicine. How about we trade?â
âReally? Youâre okay with that?â
Her wide-eyed astonishment was understandable. To anyone else, delivering medicine to Adrian seemed far easier than peeling dozens of onions.
âYes. Seeing how hard you have it made me lose sleep. I couldnât bear the thought of slacking off while you struggled. Iâm great at waking up early and peeling onions, so donât worry!â
It was perfect! No more anxiety-filled mornings! I held back a triumphant cheer, eagerly awaiting her response.
Katarina seemed about to accept but then sighed heavily, her gaze darting away.
âNo, I canât.â
âWhy not!â
I shot up, nearly flinging an onion in frustration.
âWhy not? Peeling onions is exhausting, isnât it? Iâm offering to help, so why...â
âHilda, delivering medicine to Young Master Adrian is a task he assigned to you personally. How could we switch?â
âW-what?â
âYeah. Itâd be impossible. The Young Master would be very disappointed.â
Katarina sniffled and resumed peeling onions as if the conversation were over.
I stood frozen, overwhelmed by the revelation. Adrian had specifically assigned this task to Hilda? Why? Were they close? The game never explained that.
âItâs time to deliver his medicine. Youâd better hurry before he comes looking for you.â
Still in a daze, I mechanically picked up the familiar tray with breakfast and medicine, leaving the kitchen in low spirits.
Iâm screwed. If Adrian personally designated me, Iâm stuck unless he decides otherwise. I canât refuse directly.
âDoes this mean Iâll die if we meet?â
Feeling dejected, I trudged up the stairs. At the fourth floor, the sight of his tightly shut door brought some small comfort. As long as I left the tray at the door, I could avoid him. It had worked for several days; surely itâd continue to be fine.
I whispered from a safe distance, âYoung Master, are you here?â
The room remained silent.
âYouâre not here today either, right? Or maybe youâre asleep? Iâll leave your medicine and breakfast here at the door.â
The wind outside was louder than my voice. No way he heard me.
Stay positive. I just need to keep this up, and everything will be fine. Calming my nerves, I bent down to place the tray.
Click.
As I set the tray down, the door suddenly opened, flooding the hallway with light.
âHilda.â
â...â
âDid you call for me?â
His voice was soft, almost melodic. I reflexively looked up, meeting Adrianâs gaze. My mouth fell open as my heart plummeted. His demonic visage from the gameâs intro overlapped with his current appearance.
âAah... Aaah!â
Crash! Clang!
Startled out of my wits, I collapsed, toppling the tray. The glass dishes shattered on the marble floor, spilling porridge everywhere. Pills scattered, and the drink spilled into the mess.
âS-sorry, Young Master. I-I was just so startledââ
âHilda. Are you alright?â
âIâm so sorry. Truly sorry.â
Scrambling to clean the shards, I felt my jaw tremble uncontrollably.
Itâs really him. Adrian, in the flesh. How did he know I was here...?
Fear overtook me. My vision blurred. What expression was he wearing as he looked down at me? Did I seem like nothing more than prey to him?
Unfortunately, the hallway was empty. If he needed to kill to regain his demonic power, now was the perfect momentâno witnesses.
Am I really going to die here? Without even a clue about how to escape?
Desperate, I wanted to cling to his legs and beg. Spare me! Iâll disappear quietly. Iâm just an unlucky player trapped in this game, nothing more!
âHilda, calm down.â
âS-sorry. Iâm so sorry...â
Please, just let me live.
âHilda, itâs okay. I startled you, didnât I? Iâm sorry.â