Luca was incredibly busy, while the others remained calm… or so it seemed.
Rivenhart walked straight ahead, while Sol was incredibly mischievous, cheerfully walking ahead of Rivenhart, turning his head every five seconds to look at Rivenhart, who was lost in thought behind him.
"Is there something on my face that you keep staring at like that?"
"You're covered in cuteness."
Sol's hearing seemed to have a slight effect on Rivenhart, though it wasn't very noticeable; Rivenhart's ears were only slightly redder than usual.
Sol chuckled, slowing down and gradually moving closer to Rivenhart.
"Who's feeling shy?"
Rivenhart sighed helplessly, simply covering Sol's mouth with his hand as if to say, "Don't be too intimate unless you're sure they're alone." Sol smiled back, seemingly unconcerned, simply agreeing because Riven had said so.
They were on the first floor; it was closer to the basement or second floor, and besides, this was where they rested and met important NPCs, so scouting this floor was the most logical option.
The two of them walked into the hall together, just as they had entered through the gate earlier. Sol tried to open the door and walked around, while Riven just stood there watching. The door definitely wouldn't open. They had checked the entire garden; except for a few roses around, everything else seemed perfectly normal.
Riven went inside again. Sol followed, and now they were in the main hall. The long staircase led to the second floor, and to the left were their rooms, while to the right were the dining room and other rooms, in short, a separation between the players and the game levels.
"We should split up…"
"No way!"
Sol immediately refused Rivenhart's suggestion to split up for the investigation, which made Rivenhart feel a little annoyed and helpless. However, Rivenhart just shrugged and walked to the right; he couldn't force Sol, and he certainly didn't want to.
"Fine, do whatever you want."
"Okay!"
As the two entered the corridor on the right, the first room was the dining room, aside from the painting and perhaps the seating area? Or perhaps the fact that they always had to meet there didn't offer many details worth noting.
"Should we go back in?"
"What do you want to do there?"
Sol's desire to go in piqued Rivenhart's curiosity. To be honest, although Rivenhart was almost always the one thinking, Sol wasn't stupid; he just liked to feign ignorance in front of Rivenhart, and that really gave Rivenhart a headache.
"Can we come in?"
Sol looked at Rivenhart, who still had that same smile. Rivenhart nodded, and the two entered. Sol wanted to go in because of a feeling and some things he wanted to clarify. Sol left Rivenhart standing at the door and went to the painting, the painting of the husband.
"I see there's still a mystery in this painting."
"That's obvious. We still haven't figured out what this thing is for."
Rivenhart approached and opened it, revealing another small hiding place behind the painting, its purpose unknown.
"Could it be used to imprison someone?"
Rivenhart wasn't surprised by this speculation; after all, their previous thoughts upon seeing this place were that it could be used for various purposes, like escaping from something or launching a surprise attack… but it could also be used to imprison someone. After all, only the outside had a handle to pull it open, the same color as the frame, making it difficult to spot.
"Anyway, with this size, only petite women or children could fit in."
Rivenhart said while trying to fit in to compare sizes, while Sol watched and had inappropriate thoughts…
"Hey~ what do you think of it as a pretty interesting place for that?"
"Shut up."
Rivenhart's face flushed at Sol's words, and he gave Sol loving glances.
"Seriously analyze this. If you have time to think about such nonsense, you'll probably never get out of here."
"I know, just calm down. Anyway, every scene is equally dangerous; it's just a little joke."
Sol replied to Rivenhart while continuing his search. He lifted the tablecloth, then the chairs, almost everything, but he didn't bother to investigate the most important thing: the hiding place.
"Rivenhart, I suddenly have a rather interesting idea."
Rivenhart looked back at Sol and then tried to squeeze himself into that small space.
"Use a spell. Trying to force it will only waste time."
Sol, however, shook his head repeatedly. While the skill was useful, it could only be used a limited number of times, and generally, there was a condition attached; it wasn't something you could just use whenever you wanted.
Rivenhart watched Sol's stubbornness helplessly… Finally, Sol agreed to use his ability.
[God A]
[You have activated the skill 'Basic Spell']
[Loading…]
[The god sees you want to shrink your body…]
[Successful]
Sol felt luckier that his god was more pleasant than Rivenhart's, perhaps?
A talisman flew out of Sol's pocket and stuck to his forehead. At the same time, the light of a 'mark' or tattoo appeared… a spiral. Rivenhart looked at Sol's divine mark and then remembered Luca's… it also glowed, but in the shape of a star?
Rivenhart was seeing that mark for the first time… what kind of god was the one who followed Luca?
"Riven, can you hear me?"
Rivenhart was jolted out of his thoughts by Sol's call and looked at Sol, who had successfully closed the door.
"I can hear you."
Sol was inside. It was so dark he couldn't see anything, but he still tried his best to tap around and look for more clues.
After a while, Sol gradually got used to the darkness and looked behind the painting again…
"Riven… those symbols again."
Rivenhart, waiting outside, finally heard Sol's voice, and more importantly, had a new clue.
"Can you read it?"
Sol was quite surprised and chuckled a little as he read the words he could.
"I can read the ones that are a bit shaky, but at least they're spelled correctly."
"Let's see… Emotion? Borrow? Transaction?"
Sol clicked his tongue, muttering, "Whose handwriting is so bad? It's so hard to read, it's annoying!" But the last sentence seemed easier to read, not because the handwriting was no longer shaky and rushed, but because it was perfectly spelled.
"If anyone is on the other side, please answer my plea."
Since there were no other sentences, Sol tapped on the wall to signal Rivenhart to open the door and pull Sol out.
"Those words are so strange, and the seat is so uncomfortable!"
Sol sighed, brushing the dust off his butler's uniform. Rivenhart, hearing about the discomfort of sitting, approached the spot where Sol had just come from, wiped away some of the dust with his hand, and chuckled.
"It wasn't too difficult, was it?"
Sol heard this and went closer. They saw a secret door underneath, covered in a thick layer of dust, almost imperceptible until Sol sat down, at which point some of it vanished.
Sol lifted it, and they found a jumble of papers. Rivenhart picked one up to examine it, his expression darkening slightly.
"This is…a note listing someone's debts."
Sol glanced at it and rubbed his head curiously.
"Hey, could this be the husband?"
"That's pretty certain,"
Rivenhart replied to Sol, simultaneously looking at the other papers, which were mostly about debts, financial difficulties, scams, or bankrupt businesses.
Sol was shocked to see that it contained blurry photos of intimate scenes, an audio recording, and some images of children being exploited for labor.
Rivenhart immediately played a recording, and what they heard left them speechless.
"January 16th, XXXX"
"The deal between you and me is worth 100 gold coins: you can have my wife for one night, and you can have whatever you want."
"Listen, young man, let me tell you, your wife isn't exactly pretty either. She has terrible scars all over her body. No one but me wants her."
"I'm short on money, sir, but alright, I need about 95 gold coins urgently. Is that okay?"
"Hmm… That's still a bit high, but alright, out of respect for you. You're in debt and need money urgently, so I'll take it."
The coins, contained in a bag, were handed over.
"Hey… what's going on here…"
A woman's voice, presumably the wife's, interrupted the conversation between the two men, one the husband, the other likely the man who bought her.
"Just listen to me, honey, just one more time. Don't you want our child to be happy?"
"But…"
"That's right, girl. You're not a virgin anymore anyway, so why be afraid?"
"Hey, what are you saying?!"
"He's right, honey, just this once, for me and for our child and for me... It's all for love."
"Is this the love you're talking about?"
"Yes, this is love, the kind of love you have for me... it will save me, do you understand? All my hope and my life depend on your decision."
Silence and static continued until the recording ended.
Sol was furious and wanted to yell back, but Rivenhart remained incredibly calm.
"Calm down. She's truly pitiful, but that's their past and their life. We have no right to interfere."
Sol, though angry, reluctantly obeyed Rivenhart's words… They gathered quite a few interesting facts today.
First, this family isn't really wealthy; the husband is in debt, the wife is blinded by love, and more importantly… Perhaps this is where they summon demons. But that's not the whole story. What role does the butler play? Why is their daughter in this state? Who gave them the demon summoning formula…?
But things get interesting… the butler appears, looking at the two of them with a strange smile.
"Can you two help me a little?"
...
Luca looked in the mirror and then jumped in…
BAM!
Did Luca go through the wall? Or rather, through a gauntlet? He didn't really know how this gauntlet worked, but Luca realized… he was in a room that could be called quite special.
Luca immediately stood up and looked around. Perhaps he had jumped from that mirror into this room. This meant the mirror was connected to the dressing table mirror in this room, or perhaps the mirror could lead him to anywhere there was a mirror, like a teleportation point in a game.
Luca looked again and was startled… wasn't he in danger? How could he still be so calm? It didn't make any sense at all!
The current situation wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible either; at least it was better than being mentally tortured by a monster with a face exactly like his own.
Anyway, he had to admit that this room looked bigger and more luxurious, with that dressing table… and there were more roses everywhere than in the rooms he'd been in before…
He was having a thought that didn't make him feel any better; it had the opposite effect, making him tremble uncontrollably, even more so than before… HE WAS IN THE MISTRESS'S ROOM?!
Of all the places I could have chosen, why did fate have to pick the boss's room like this?!
The room was so vast, so incredibly large, that the moment Luca stepped inside, he felt like a speck of dirt in that luxurious space.
The high ceiling, the bright white light shining down on him, the polished black stone floor, and the mirror reflecting his distorted image, shaking, lost, breathless, this time a different image, but with the same effect, only intensified Luca's fear.
Luca was about to turn around when a dry, sharp sound echoed behind him. The door had vanished. Luca's heart skipped a beat; he instinctively recoiled, his heels slipping slightly on the cold stone floor, his legs trembling uncontrollably as if something were draining all his strength from within.
Luca tried to take a deep breath, but the air felt heavy, pressing against his chest, adding to the feeling that someone had been standing there all along.
"Don't turn around."
A voice rang out from behind him, and just one sentence was enough to send a chill down Luca's spine, his body instantly stiffening. He stood frozen, his throat constricted, his heart pounding so hard it felt like he was on an airplane.
"If you turn around, I'll be right in front of you. What will you do then?"
Luca didn't dare move; his legs were paralyzed. With each step, the floor beneath Luca's feet vibrated slightly, as if the entire room were adjusting to accommodate the newcomer.
Luca gritted his teeth and mustered all his remaining strength to lunge forward. He had to run, if what he was doing could even be called running.
His steps were unsteady and off-balance; he nearly fell after the first few meters, his breath ragged and seemingly trapped in his throat, his heart pounding so hard that his vision blurred from the tension.
The room was strangely large, lacking any pillars to provide sufficient darkness, and worse, it offered no safe hiding places.
"Too slow."
The mistress's voice rang out from behind, and at that very moment, Luca stumbled and fell, crashing hard onto the floor. His shoulder ached, his vision blurred, his ears buzzed, and his whole body trembled as if he had a high fever.
Luca tried to stand up, but his arm, though wanting to help, was powerless against his mistress…
"Get up."
That statement triggered an immediate reaction in his body; he sprang to his feet in panic, staggering backward, tears of fear streaming down his face without him even realizing it. Another footstep echoed, the distance closing in.
"You're running in the wrong direction."
Luca heard the words right next to his ear. He wanted to scream, but he had to scream silently in his heart… This was probably his most useful skill, and his body instinctively lunged to the side, sliding across the cold stone floor.
His knee was scraped and chafed, leaving a small gash, but Luca didn't dare stop. If he stopped now, he would surely die… he crawled and dragged himself along, doing anything to get away from that voice.
The mistress didn't bother chasing after it, walking alongside Luca as if looking at a pathetic prey trying to escape.
"I never told you to run."
Just one sentence, but it felt like his heart was being squeezed, and it was even worse! He realized the mistress had always been right there; she just hadn't wanted to kill him yet. Her murderous aura frightened him even more than it had with Luxie.
Those thoughts made his whole body tremble more violently than all the pain he had experienced in this scene combined.
Luca recklessly lunged toward a wall where the light reflected off it slightly. He raised his hand, his hand trembling as if it held hope.
"Wrong, that's not the exit."
The mistress said from behind him, and at that very moment, the wall closed. He froze, his pupils constricting, despair washing over him like a cold shower. He turned around, and she was standing very close.
"Do you know why I didn't do anything to you?"
Luca shook his head repeatedly, a choked sob escaping his throat.
"Because you're my daughter's prey, and secondly…"
"I wanted to see what kind of person you are, daring to challenge me, daring to enter my room, and even getting my husband's attention."
A hand rested on Luca's shoulder, enough to make Luca's entire body feel like it was weighed down by a heavy weight.
"I won this hunt."
The hand resting on Luca's shoulder didn't tighten its grip; it was merely there as a comforting gesture, but its mere presence was enough to paralyze Luca's entire body.
His knees buckled, his spine went limp as if all his strength had been drained, and his breath caught in his throat. Luca nearly fell, but couldn't because his mistress had caught him in his kneeling position… she didn't want him to give up too soon, as that would signify defeat.
Luca opened his mouth, but all that came out was a gasp, as if he had just finished a race… His vision remained blurry, the white light in the room stretching into long, indistinct streaks before contracting again.
The mistress said nothing; the silence seemed to stretch on endlessly. He realized he was waiting for a word, even though he knew very well that if she spoke, he would likely die. After all, the mistress was quite taciturn, and every word she'd spoken so far had almost killed him...
That thought was so contradictory that it made him panic even more. His heart pounded wildly, but his hands and feet were ice-cold and trembling.
Suddenly, the mistress let go of his hand, causing Luca to collapse to the floor. His shoulder hit the floor hard, the pain shooting up a beat as if his body needed confirmation that it still existed. Luca rolled away, trying to crawl as far as he could, not caring where, just away from that spot.
Footsteps echoed, then stopped. Luca bit his lip so hard it bled, not daring to turn around or try to calm himself.
He crawled on all fours, his knees scraping against the cold stone floor, each movement slow and heavy, as if gravity in this room wasn't meant for humans.
"You're wasting your time."
The mistress's voice rang out from behind him, and that single sentence made Luca freeze instantly, his entire body stiffening as if all human reflexes had been drained away.
Another order! Damn it, this cursed body!!!
He felt his heart skip a beat, then pound violently again, alternating like that until his chest ached, like a compressed air pump.
Luca's throat was dry and sore, yet he forced himself to keep crawling.
Every movement felt like he was doing something wrong, as if this room didn't accept his attempts to survive; it wanted him dead, to become one with the rose mansion.
He saw again in the distance a faint slant of light on the wall; it was it again, but Luca felt he still had to hope. It was the only imperfect thing in this seemingly perfect room, a glimmer of hope; after all, he had no other choice.
Luca mustered his remaining consciousness and pulled himself toward it. Sweat dripped onto the floor, breaking into blurry streaks and puddles.
His breathing became so rapid that Luca started to feel dizzy again, this time even worse, almost like nearsightedness. His ears buzzed as if he were hearing an airplane nearby; in short, the world shrank, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat and the desperate desire to survive, while both his body and the game were against his will.
The moment his hand touched the wall, a large matchstick, waiting to be lit, was right near his neck.
"Stop."
His mistress's voice rang out again. Though he knew it, Luca still flinched, his body recoiling. His fingers instinctively recoiled as if they had just touched something extremely hot. He turned around; his mistress was standing right behind him, just there, straight-backed, calm, as if the distance between them was always zero, still clutching that enormous matchstick.
"If you touch that, I'll end this hunt right here."
Luca let out a choked sob. Tears that should have dried now streamed down uncontrollably. He shook his head repeatedly, his lips moving but no sound coming out.
He couldn't think clearly anymore, only a vague idea that he was about to die, and that was what Luca hated most.
The mistress watched him for a long time, the silence so prolonged that Luca began to imagine his death in detail: the feeling of being suffocated, the feeling of the light going out, the feeling of no longer having to fear, or just the heat of the fire burning him, the pain slowly leading him to the other world.
That last thought terrified him, causing his whole body to tremble violently.
The boss took just one step to the side, enough to create space in front of Luca.
"Continue."
A single word, but for Luca, it wasn't permission; it was a death sentence. He crawled on, almost completely disoriented, aimlessly. He had no strength left to stand, let alone run. He lay on the floor, using his hands to keep moving forward.
Everything in the room seemed strange and distorted; the pillars appeared to be moving very slowly, and the ceiling lights flickered like water. Luca didn't know if it was an illusion or if the room was responding to his panic.
He heard footsteps behind him, always keeping a distance that Luca didn't dare turn around, as if out of pity to keep him from feeling too suffocated.
A spasm ran down his lower abdomen, and Luca realized he had lost all feeling in his legs. He tried to move, but every movement was slow, like spinning in thick water. The world tilted sharply to one side, his head spinning.
"You're about to faint."
The mistress said casually, as if it wasn't her fault, but Luca's own doing for entering her room... acting contrary to his duties as a butler.
Luca tried to laugh desperately, a distorted sound almost inaudible, but the mistress said nothing. Luca himself didn't know whether he was crying or laughing; he regretted his decision to go alone. Seeing this, the arm tried to comfort him and forcefully kept the matchstick as far away from him as possible, and the mistress didn't try to stop it.
"Don't."
At that very moment, Luca's consciousness was pulled back as if something was forcing him to stay awake a little longer, perhaps the arm? Or perhaps himself? Or perhaps his god? He gasped, his throat burning, tears streaming down his face even more violently. His mistress leaned down again, this time closer, her hair touching Luca's forehead.
"Do you know why I let you go for so long?"
Luca shook his head weakly, his neck stiff with exhaustion.
"Because when you die, you will remember very clearly… how hard you tried, an effort worthy of recognition… a love for life that will make you a truly magnificent rose alongside your little friend."
Luca choked; those words pierced straight through his fear, embedding themselves in something else, yes, pure despair, making him almost want to give up, as if there were no other way.
He realized at that moment that there was no way to win, no real way out for him, and no miracle like in fairy tales. She stood up straight, and silence fell again. Luca didn't know how long he had been lying there; after all, his weakness was his fatal flaw, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't do anything. After all, he wasn't the main character.
Time in this room didn't flow normally. Each second seemed endless. He heard his heart beating slower and heavier; it was so tired. Luca had been tormenting it relentlessly, and Luca knew it, but what could he do? A weak person like him had to take risks to defeat those blessed with divine power.
"Enough."
Just those two words were enough to shatter Luca's worldview. Luca didn't have time to understand what was happening.
The lights went out, the room vanished, and the feeling of weightlessness reversed violently. The mirror seemed to possess a magnetic pull, releasing numerous hands, including the arm on Luca's shoulder, which pulled Luca into the mirror as if its mistress had decided to spare him this time.
"Next time… run faster. It's not time yet anyway…"