Chapter 8: Chapter 5.1

Adrian was relentless.

When I said I’d handle my personal errands later, he insisted we head back together. When I mentioned the carriage, he claimed the one he had was far better. I tried to brush him off, waving my hands and saying it wasn’t proper for a servant to ride with her master. But when I realized the carriage I had taken earlier had already returned to the mansion, I had no choice but to accept.

There was no way I could trudge back to the mansion in the middle of the night carrying heavy garden shears. Not only did I not know the way, but I also needed to manage my fatigue carefully in this world.

So, there I was, reluctantly climbing into Adrian’s carriage. It was far more comfortable and luxurious than the one provided by the Countess, but I was too tense to appreciate it. Sitting across from him, I felt like a cactus under the blazing sun, drying out with every passing second.

Adrian closed his eyes and said nothing, and the silence between us was deafening. The only sounds were the crack of the coachman’s whip and the steady clopping of the horses’ hooves on the dirt road.

At least he was quiet. That was bearable. I reminded myself that I had the garden shears; if necessary, I could use them defensively.

“…If it’s too heavy, let me hold it. Give it to me now,” Adrian said suddenly.

I froze. How had he noticed? He hadn’t even opened his eyes. My arm had been aching from holding the shears, and I’d been absentmindedly tapping it with my other hand.

“N-no! It’s too heavy, which is exactly why I can’t hand it to you, Young Master. I’ll return it to the mansion as promised.”

The demon is just waiting for the perfect chance to reclaim his weapon. Not a chance!

I pulled the shears closer to my chest, holding them tightly. Adrian eventually relented, withdrawing his hand. I couldn’t believe he had carried something this heavy earlier—it made me wonder if his claims of frailty were nothing but lies. Maybe he’d regained his strength through all the murders he committed and was pretending to be weak to lower people’s guard.

Come to think of it, that made a lot of sense.

“Hilda,” Adrian called, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.

“Y-yes?!” I yelped, startled. Hearing his voice while thinking about him caught me off guard. Adrian opened his eyes and stared at me again. His gaze made my heart skip a beat—out of sheer fear.

“How can I speak to you without startling you?” he asked, his tone oddly serious.

“…What?”

“I’ve been wondering since a few days ago. It feels like I keep scaring you. But asking about it seems to scare you even more.”

The sincerity of his question left me blinking in confusion. Was there some rule about not killing startled humans? Did he lose power if his prey was too scared? The idea that he wasn’t deliberately trying to give me a heart attack was hard to process.

“I’m just naturally jumpy, Young Master. Please don’t worry about it,” I said quickly.

‘Just don’t show up in front of me, and I won’t have a reason to be startled,’ I thought, biting back the words before they escaped. But Adrian didn’t seem satisfied with my answer. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“You weren’t always like this. You used to be calmer, quieter… less talkative.”

“…”

“You weren’t like this before.”

His words trailed off into a mutter, his gaze lowering as if he were lost in thought. His expression was one of reflection, as though he were comparing the old Hilda to the current me.

Oh no. If he starts connecting the dots, who knows what he’ll do.

“There’s no need to worry about me, Young Master,” I said, forcing a smile. “Life has just been a little tough lately, so I’ve become a bit more sensitive.”

“Tough?”

“Yes. Being a laborer is hard, you see. Not being able to sleep without a pillow, losing wages for not getting enough rest, having durability penalties for touching the wrong things, and getting fined for damages—it’s exhausting. And let’s not forget the people vowing revenge over pillows. It’s impossible to live peacefully under such conditions. You wouldn’t understand, of course. Someone like you, who needs six pillows just to sleep and has their medicine delivered by others—”

“Someone vowed revenge over a pillow? Who?” Adrian cut in.

“Ah, no one worth mentioning, Young Master,” I said quickly. “Anyway, I’ve been losing money every night, drowning in tasks, and, oh, the Countess singing a lullaby last night scared me half to death…”

“What about my mother?” Adrian asked sharply.

I froze. My stress had built up to the point where I’d started venting without realizing who I was talking to. I shouldn’t have mentioned the Countess. Damn it, Hilda! Get it together!

“Um, it’s just… seeing her now, compared to how she used to be, is heartbreaking,” I said cautiously.

I couldn’t possibly tell him that I’d heard her singing a lullaby about death and peace. Whether it was genuine or an act, Adrian had come to the village to buy shears for the Countess’s garden. If he found out about the lullaby, he might confront her in a rage—or worse.

“I see,” Adrian said softly, his tone unreadable.

His calm acceptance made me more nervous. What’s he really thinking?

The carriage slowed and finally came to a stop. The coachman’s voice rang out from outside. “We’ve arrived, Young Master!”

The door opened, letting in the damp scent of the night mist. Adrian stayed seated, his refined posture unchanging as he looked at me expectantly. He was waiting for me to say something.

“Um, thank you for the ride, Young Master,” I said hesitantly.

“No need for thanks,” he replied curtly.

His dismissal surprised me. Straightening up awkwardly, I frowned slightly. It felt incomplete, like forgetting to wash your hands after using the bathroom. I decided to push back a little.

“Then, may I ask you something, Young Master?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you being so kind to me?”

“Kind?” He raised an eyebrow. “All I did was give you a ride back to the mansion. That hardly seems like a kindness worth questioning.”

“You wouldn’t offer a ride to just any servant you ran into in the village. And you approached me first,” I pointed out.

Adrian smirked faintly, resting his chin on one hand. “You have a knack for leaving people speechless, Hilda.”

He clasped his hands together and let out a soft chuckle. “You’re right. The Palzgraf family has plenty of servants—too many to keep track of their names. If I’d run into anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered offering them a ride or even acknowledging them.”

His sudden honesty caught me off guard. It was as if he’d peeled back a carefully crafted mask to reveal a glimpse of the real Adrian.

“There’s an old saying: ‘Keep your enemies closer than your friends.’”

I nodded. I’d heard it before. Adrian tilted his head, resting his cheek against his hand.

“I take that saying to heart, Hilda. I treasure my enemies.”

“…What?”

“Fools attack their enemies to feel victorious or powerful. Some flaunt their trophies, while others boast about their conquests. But enemies are more than that. They’re mirrors, reflections of one’s flaws and strengths. They’re valuable clues.”

"It's better to keep it alive by your side. Even if you have to cut or break it."

A sinister smile spread across his composed face. Although he was smiling, his eyes were as cold as ice.

What’s he cutting? What’s he breaking…?

I immediately regretted asking myself that. Now it’s even scarier. I told myself not to talk to him, didn’t I?

"That’s why I want to be kind to you, Hilda."

"…"

"That’s all. I have no other intentions."

An enemy? Why am I his enemy? Shouldn’t his enemies be the authorities of this world?

His words made no sense, and yet he smiled cleanly, as if it all did.

You say you have no intentions, but it looks like you have plenty of them. You don’t have to be kind to me on purpose. Could you just pretend you don’t know me instead?

"You can get down now, Hilda. Here, your basket."

"Oh, thank…"

I slung the basket he handed me over my shoulder and prepared to get off the carriage. With a basket over one shoulder, garden shears in one hand, and a luxurious pillow tucked in my arms, Adrian personally pushed the carriage door open with a bright smile. I had been about to shove it open with my foot, but seeing him, I cautiously climbed down instead.

Why is he acting like this? Why is he being so unnervingly kind? Is he having an identity crisis as a demon?

"Oh, and Hilda, there’s someone waiting outside your room."

"What…?"

"They look quite upset. It’s probably the owner of that pillow. If you have any business to take care of, I’d suggest handling it before going to your room."

I wanted to ask how he knew someone was waiting outside my room, but the fear of his answer froze my lips.

And to think I decided to stand against someone like this…

"See you tomorrow, Hilda."

Adrian said with a light smile, closing the carriage door before I could react. Watching the carriage move away from my lodging, I came to several realizations.

This man, who can laugh so carefreely, isn’t human.

He’s regained at least some of his demonic power.

And his hands are already stained with the blood of many.

"You’re finally here. I’ve been waiting for you."

As Adrian had said, standing outside my room was an irate Dolores and her entourage. Seeing Emily and Katarina among them, it seemed my lodging had turned into this area’s new hotspot.

When I stopped in the corridor, nearly ten servants turned their eyes toward me. With all that attention focused on me, I wanted to shrink into the floor. Couldn’t you all just leave me alone?

"Hilda…"

Emily looked at me with tears brimming in her eyes. Sighing deeply, I handed the basket to Katarina.@@novelbin@@

"What is this? Why are you all gathered outside my room?"

"Open the door. Now."

Dolores, standing right by my door, said with authority, tapping the doorknob. Her eyes, dark with fatigue, looked like those of a panda. And pandas are at least cute.

"Open it. Didn’t you hear me?"

"Why should I show you my room?"

"Because you stole my pillow! Do you have any idea how much trouble I went through today because of you?!"

Dolores clenched her fists, trembling with anger. Her expression was venomous. I already had enough on my plate thinking about what I’d learned in town and about Adrian, and now this?

"Open it now! Unless you want me to break the door down!"

The ease with which she said that suggested Dolores must have some wealth saved up. I always tiptoe around things to avoid paying for damages, but she can casually threaten to break down a door? How nice it must be to have that kind of money.

Still, judging by the critical bonus from earlier, I can’t help but look forward to today’s pay. A critical hit like that must mean more than just a regular bonus, right? How much more? Ten gold? Twenty? Could it even be… thirty? If I get double my daily pay, I might truly become a loyal servant to this system.

If I really get sixty gold, what should I do with it? Invest in a rare pillow? It’d cost fifty out of the sixty gold, but from my experience, this is the safest investment. A good pillow guarantees a sound sleep, which boosts critical hits, and my pay would keep increasing.

The thought alone made me giddy. With a bounce in my step, I opened the door, my favorite part of the day—payday! My chest fluttered with a thrill I’d never felt, not even with my first love.

"What’s with her? She looks way too happy all of a sudden."

"She’s acting weird…"

I heard whispers behind me, but nothing could dampen my joy. My initial goal was survival, but now? It had evolved.

I calmed my excited heart and opened the door. Gazing at the empty space, I eagerly awaited the white text to appear. A moment later, it did.

「Your daily pay has been deposited.」

So, how much? How much is it? One second stretched into ten minutes. Clasping my hands together, I waited for the next notification. Soon, the letters formed like grains of sand coming together.

「Gold +60G」

"Oh my god! It’s really double!"

I’d only joked about it, but it actually happened! My measly zero-gold fortune had just skyrocketed to sixty gold, and I felt like a millionaire. Just days ago, I was a hopelessly broke, exhausted wreck, but now I wasn’t even tired anymore. And I had sixty gold! I could finally invest in that pillow!

I’ll work hard, game. I’ll be your devoted servant, AComz. Thank you so much!

Which direction was AComz HQ? It’s probably in another world, but if I could, I’d bow in their direction and wish them long life. Just as I was about to bow, someone slammed a hand on my shoulder. I’d completely forgotten about Dolores.

"Look! This is my pillow!"

She snatched the pillow lovingly placed on my bed and examined it. Then, she screamed at me.

The joy of growing my fortune had to be set aside as I turned to meet her furious gaze. She cradled her pillow as if it were a treasure, glaring at me like I was her mortal enemy.

"I told you, didn’t I? That she stole my pillow."

Dolores jabbed her finger at me, tattling to her entourage, who crossed their arms and shot venomous remarks my way.

"Hilda, did you really steal Dolores’s pillow? Do you even realize how hard today was for her because of you?"

"I thought you grew up in the temple. Did you leave your conscience there? Stealing, really?"

"We’ll report this to Lady Leticia first thing in the morning. How can servants trust each other when there’s a thief among them?"

"Apologize to Dolores right now! And you better compensate her for the trouble she went through!"

"Compensate her? For what?"

The unexpected question made the group exchange glances. Frustrated, Dolores stepped forward.

"Obviously for the work I couldn’t do properly because I was tired! I demand compensation for the broken plate and my docked pay. If you don’t comply, I’ll report every detail of this to Lady Leticia!"

"So, you’re telling me… you want me to pay you? Right now?"

My elation from having sixty gold plummeted to the ground. My voice dropped in pitch, growing icier with every word. My expression must have turned dangerous because Dolores hesitated, glancing nervously at her friends.

"Y-Yes! Including my docked pay and the cost of the broken plate… sixty gold! Hand it over!"

That pixelated little tyrant had the audacity to demand my entire fortune.

Memories of my grueling journey to earn that sixty gold flashed before my eyes. Mostly involving pillows, yes, but it had still been an arduous, tearful struggle. Plates, damages, New Game resets—it all felt like a cruel joke.

And now this girl dares demand I hand it all over?

No way. There’s no way I’m going back to being a broke, exhausted wreck.

"Do you have proof?"

"What?"

"Storming into my room uninvited, claiming someone else's pillow as your own, and then demanding compensation? You must be awfully confident if you're asking for damages like this. Do you have any proof?"

I can give up my dignity, my pride… but demanding compensation? That’s crossing the line!

"Proof? How am I supposed to prove this pillow is mine? You can just tell by looking…"

"‘Just by looking’? Are you seriously planning to use that as evidence to extort money from me?"

"T-That’s…"

Driven by a firm determination not to lose my gold, I responded with cold logic and common sense. Dolores’s eyes wavered like an earthquake had struck her resolve. Her entourage, catching the sense in my argument, began murmuring among themselves. Dolores, flustered, opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water.

When I first heard she had maliciously hidden my pillow, I thought it didn’t matter since it was in the past. But now, thinking about it… No, it absolutely mattered. If that pixelated little tyrant hadn’t been so intent on messing with me, my starting capital could’ve been more than 300 gold! Forget compensation—I’m still bitter about the pay I lost because of her. And now she dares demand I compensate her instead? Is this even a game?

"Here! This drool stain! It’s my drool stain!"

Flailing for an excuse, Dolores suddenly noticed the pillow and smirked triumphantly.

"What? Are you serious right now?"

Katarina, who had been quietly observing, couldn’t hide her incredulity. On closer inspection, one side of the pillow did have a conspicuously dark stain. If it was a drool stain, it looked like someone would have to drool exclusively in one spot for hours to create such a mark.

"Dolores, no matter how you spin it, that’s just…"

Everyone was now looking at Dolores as if she’d completely lost it. But she stood her ground, exuding confidence as though she’d presented irrefutable proof.

"See? If I lie down like this with my mouth open, it lines up perfectly with the stain!"

"You can’t be serious…"

"That’s not true. That’s my drool stain."

My declaration made Katarina whip her head around to look at me, her face filled with disbelief. At this point, I’d sunk to Dolores’s level. The moment she mentioned compensation, I stopped caring about keeping my dignity intact.

"I drool in my sleep too. My drool stains pillows just as vividly. I’m telling you, this is definitely my drool stain!"

"No way, it’s mine!"

"Enough! Ugh, this is disgusting…"

As we argued over whose drool it was, Katarina stepped in to mediate. The fight was absurd, but for Dolores and me, it was a matter of utmost seriousness.

Katarina, one of the older servants, commanded enough authority that no one dared ignore her. She turned to Dolores with a sharp look.

"I stood by and watched as you dragged unrelated people into this mess, but let’s start from the beginning. Did your pillow actually go missing?"

"Of course! Are you accusing me of lying? Why else would I have been such a mess today if it wasn’t missing?"

"Uh, Dolores… You break dishes even when nothing’s wrong…"

"Shut up!"

Dolores snapped, silencing her companions. Katarina sighed deeply, pressing her fingers against her temples, clearly exasperated by being dragged into such a petty dispute.

"So what you’re saying is, Hilda stole your pillow and has been using it. But first, prove your pillow is actually missing. Barging into Hilda’s room and randomly claiming any pillow as yours doesn’t count as evidence."

"Do I look like someone who’d do that?"

"You’re not exactly in a position to claim otherwise."

Katarina crossed her arms, her tone as sharp as her words.

"You’ve hated Hilda ever since she came to this house. If anyone touched the pillow first, it was probably you."

"Hmph! Fine! Come to my room! I’ll prove it to you!"

"Dolores, let me give you some advice. Drop this now. If you stop here, we’ll act like none of this happened."

I meant it sincerely, but Dolores glanced at me and sneered. Her expression practically screamed, What, scared? Go ahead and die. This is why you should live with a kind heart. When you’re full of malice, you start thinking everyone else is just as dark as you.

"Look! My room! See? There’s no pillow…"

Dolores confidently threw open the door, only to trail off mid-sentence. This is why I told her to stop.

"What? The pillow’s right there!"

Katarina pushed past the frozen Dolores to inspect the bed. Dolores’s lips trembled.

"Why is it here? It wasn’t here yesterday…"

"Is that all you have to say? You accused Hilda of being a thief and humiliated her, but you were wrong?"

"No, that’s not possible…"

Dolores stared blankly at the pillow on her bed before spinning around, her glare sharp enough to kill.

"How did you do it? How did you know I’d come at night and put the pillow back?!"

"Dolores, seriously, just stop."

"Tell me now! You’re making me look like an idiot, and you’re just staying silent?!"

I understood her frustration, but Dolores was doing an excellent job of digging her own grave. She had suspicions but no proof. Acting out now would only worsen her situation. I thought she had at least some wits about her, but apparently not.

"Dolores! Are you really going to keep this up? You get caught with the pillow in your room, and now you’re accusing Hilda of sneaking it back?"

"I don’t understand either! How is this possible? That pillow in Hilda’s room is mine! So how is the same pillow in my room too?!"

Dolores clutched her head, overwhelmed.

The explanation was simple, though I didn’t bother sharing it. Adrian had told me someone was waiting outside my room, so I stopped by Dolores’s room beforehand and placed the pillow back on her bed. I even smeared some drool for authenticity.

I hadn’t predicted her late-night tantrum. I just felt a bit guilty watching her exhaustion the previous day. Even if it wasn’t a premium pillow, I thought returning a decent one might ease her frustrations.

"That’s enough. This is over. Dolores, I’ll be reporting this to Lady Leticia. No matter how much you dislike someone, accusing them of theft is unacceptable."

"No, it’s not… it’s not like that…"

"And you’re to stay away from Hilda from now on. You’re vile."

Katarina, truly furious, snapped before storming out.

Dolores’s entourage, now feeling awkward, quietly followed suit. Even Emily frowned slightly at Dolores before grabbing my arm and whispering. Her palm felt a bit sweaty, likely from nerves.

"Let’s go, Hilda."

"Mm."

Emily cast a wary glance at Dolores before quickly walking away. I followed a beat behind, pausing briefly. Dolores stood trembling, her fists clenched tightly.

"How… how did you do it?"

Her endless questioning made me sigh.

"That’s not the point right now."

"What? Are you mocking me…?"

"It might be best to secure your room better. Lock the door properly, or who knows, someone might steal your pillow again."

That pillow cost five gold, after all.

Judging by its quality, the pillow in her room must have been quite luxurious. Poor soul—she didn’t even know how to invest in a good pillow. Even the old Hilda had used rare pillows.

"You’re mocking me! I won’t let you get away with this!"

I had been genuinely trying to offer advice, but she refused to listen. It was disappointing, really. I hadn’t done anything particularly hateful toward her, but for some reason, she despised me.

"Thieves lecturing about security? All this after stealing my pillow, riding the lady’s carriage to town, and wagging your tail at Young Master Adrian!"

"The carriage ride was thanks to my cold brew latte."

"Cold… brew… what?"

"Hilda, come on!"

Emily, still waiting outside, called out to me. Sweet Emily probably worried Dolores might harm me. I cast one last glance at Dolores’s red face before stepping out.

A cold breeze swept down the dark corridor, making me shiver as the night’s chill reminded me of its presence.

「You’ve gifted your first present to a non-favored friend. 1000 experience points earned.」