Chapter 6.2

Was there not a single option that Edith Abina would say something nice?

When I chose the first option, her teary eyes opened and widened with surprise.

“Oh? How are you going to punish me?”

It was such a cruel choice to punish, but it was a question that came up, so I just kept my mouth shut and continued to clean.

“Could it be you are punishing us by doing our job?”

I bit my lip to keep my silence. The maid stared blankly at me and squeezed the mop she held.

“It’s weird…” she murmured, “Are you sure you are trying to punish me?”

She then grabbed my hand, which had swollen from the continuous wiping.

“I don’t think you are doing my work to bully me like you said. I haven’t served that long here unlike Dorothy, but I think I might like this.”

The maid’s name is Cecia.

Unlike the other maids, she was someone that was hired right before Edith Abina started acting ‘strangely’.

“You have a personality that is easily misunderstood,” she continued, “It would be easier to live your life if you fixed it sooner.”

It was said that she worked as a mercenary before coming to the Marquis’ mansion, but she seemed different from any normal maid.

“Cecia, how dare you say such a tactless thing to a Lady?!”

Dorothy, who was mortified by Cecia making fun of Edith by asking her to fix her personality, stopped crying and stepped forward.

“My Lady, Cecia made a mistake because she is new. If you want to, please punish me instead.”

‘No, I don’t really want to.’

I didn’t want to punish the maids one by one for making a mistake. Moreover, based from Dorothy’s red face, I was sure that she was actually reluctant when she said I should punish her instead.

However, regardless of what I felt, the options were already created in response to her words.

‘If I keep silent and ignore the options, I might get penalized…’

A. “You and that maid, I’ll punish you both.” Cut off Cecia and Dorothy’s hands and feet.

B. “No, you’re loyal, so I’ll punish that maid only.” Kill Cecia.

C. “Good. I’ll punish you alone then.” Kill Dorothy.

D. “Who are you to dictate what I do?” Slap Dorothy’s cheek.

Cut off hands and feet or execution…

I barely moved at the bleak options.

‘Yeah, a slap to the cheek would be best.’

When I chose the last option, my body moved on its own, and my hand whizzed through the air.

“Who are you to dictate what I do?”

SLAP!

In the end, I slapped Dorothy in the face.

“Oh, lady…”

Dorothy slumped to the floor, caressing her swollen cheek and began to shed tears again.

“I was worried that the maids didn’t give a damn these days and had no energy, but the taste of your hand is still the same. It’s very fiery!”

I took a step back, bewildered with how happy she looked after I slapped her.

“Dorothy is also very happy to serve Lady Edith!”

Could it be that the crazy maid was devoted to her equally crazy owner?

I shook my head as I tried to erase the existence of a club that I didn’t want to enter at all.

After a week’s worth of hard work, the percentage still wasn’t enough. The time I could spend in the game wasn’t infinite, so my anxiety rose up to my throat.

‘Helping the maids with chores, volunteering, donating, or cleaning didn’t increase the collapse rate anymore.’

Even if it didn’t suit Edith Abina, the character’s collapse rate didn’t increase if the actions were repeated to a certain extent.

‘What else didn’t suit Edith Abina…?’

As I contemplated with my hands wrapped around my head, someone suddenly knocked on my study door.

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