A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 28: Recruitment

“...Ah...”

Staring at the empty plates and the bottles scattered across the table, she suddenly buried her face in her hands.

“What have I done...”

Hearing the guilt in her voice, I approached her with a gentle smile and whispered softly.

“How was it? Are you satisfied, at least a little?”

“......”

“Haha. You don’t have to say anything. Your face says it all.”

She stayed silent, but that didn’t matter. The operation had been a success.

Ever since arriving at the mansion, the Saintess had tiptoed around, constantly watching me with wary eyes—but now, she had finally allowed herself to be honest.

“...D-Don’t get the wrong idea.”

Though she finally spoke, there was still a faint note of resistance in her voice.

“I was just... forced by you...”

“But didn’t you enjoy it too, partway through?”

“...Ugh.”

As I swept my eyes across the table’s aftermath and said that, she looked down again and bit her lip hard.

“If you keep cooperating with my plans, I can offer you even more happiness.”

“H-How could there possibly be anything more than this... huh.”

Her lips had been firmly sealed, but my sweet temptation cracked them open again—only for her to hastily clamp both hands over her mouth.

It seemed like it was time to drive the final nail.

“...Have you ever heard of a ‘bomb shot’?”

Physically weak as I was, I’d never dared touch such a thing—but through media in my past life, I was well acquainted with the infamous binge-drinking culture.

“As the name implies, it’s where you mix all the finest liquors together. And when it starts bubbling over like a volcano, the reaction is explosive.”

“H-How could anyone drink something so vulgar...!”

“Sure, it’s vulgar—but just imagine it.”

To a sheltered noble lady who had only just discovered the joys of alcohol, such a thing must’ve sounded like the forbidden fruit of a new civilization.

“Exquisite liquors blended in perfect harmony, flooding down your throat in a single gulp... how thrilling would that be?”

“...Hnngh.”

“Just imagining it gives you chills, doesn’t it?”

Sure enough, her cheeks turned red again as she listened to my vividly detailed description.

“Saintess. If you take my hand, I’ll make it for you myself—again and again.”

“......”

“There’s no need to worry about anyone watching here. You just have to enjoy it.”

Certain of the operation’s success, I extended my hand toward her, wearing a triumphant smile.

“S-Stop tempting me with such sinful offers!”

“Ow.”

But just when I thought she’d already caved, Hestia suddenly screamed and slapped my hand away.

“You think I’ll surrender to you just like that?”

“Haha. Saintess, I was never trying to make you surrender...”

“I—I know. I know you’re planning to use me... and then get rid of me.”

Whether powered by the alcohol or her own resolve, she clenched her fists and glared at me.

“A-And... and! I know you’re going to destroy the world in the future! I know everything!”

Her voice cracked mid-sentence, and then—bam!—she slammed the table with her fist as she hurled out that terrifying prophecy.

“Me?”

“D-Don’t pretend you don’t know!”

For a moment, I wondered if she was just drunkenly babbling nonsense—but the fire in her eyes told me she was absolutely serious.

“That’s the first I’ve heard of it, though...”

Scratching my head with a feigned sheepishness, I let out a sigh. Still, it was obviously just a misunderstanding.

Because really—me? Destroy the world? No way.

‘Besides, the Saintess shouldn’t be able to make prophecies yet.’

As far as I knew, the Saintess only awakened that ability after meeting the Hero.

The original scenario—where she was supposed to meet the Hero—had already been derailed. That meant this so-called prophecy wasn’t a vision of the future but a mistake born from misunderstanding.

In that case, I had to clear things up before it got any worse.

“Haha. I don’t know what kind of misunderstanding this is, but...”

“Grrrr...”

“My goal is to bring you to the Hero, Saintess.”

Seeing her drunkenly growling like a beast, I scratched my head again and told her the truth.

“T-The Hero?”

“The Saintess appears for the first time in centuries, so of course the Hero must be on his way too.”

Luckily, she was sober enough not to pounce on me and instead began to listen quietly.

“I know where he’ll appear. And I plan to take you there myself.”

“......”

“So that you’ll become someone no one dares to touch—a Saintess who will save the world alongside the Hero.”

Still, I could see doubt lingering in her eyes. So I decided to press a little further—right where it hurt.

“...And Saintess. If I really wanted to destroy the world, why would I go through all this trouble?”

“T-That’s...”

“If I just got rid of you here and now, without anyone knowing, the Hero would be easy to neutralize too, wouldn’t he?”

Her mouth opened as if to object—but then closed again. Her expression shifted into something more complex.

She was clearly still scared, but this time there was hesitation behind it—like she was genuinely thinking it over.

“Fine. Let’s say the prophecy is true, and I destroy the world in the future, completely against my own will.”

I stepped in closer and lowered my voice to a soft whisper.

“Then isn’t it your job to stop me from letting that happen?”

Eyes closed, she fell silent for a while, deep in thought—before finally opening them and speaking in a tone that strangely resembled Meredia’s.

“...I still don’t completely trust you.”

That threw me off for a second, but thankfully Hestia was much more docile than Meredia.

“But... I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Realistically speaking, she had no other option but to cooperate.

“But I have one condition.”

So when she suddenly reached out and offered me her hand, I couldn’t help but blink in surprise.

“Take my hand—and swear that everything you’ve said is true.”

“Haha...”

Maybe the alcohol had given her courage? At last, she was beginning to resemble the Saintess from the original game.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I took her hand without hesitation. Even if she tried to secretly form a soul-binding oath, I’d let it slide.

“Then the contract is sealed.”

It wasn’t like I planned to go back on my word—and if a soul bond gave her peace of mind, all the better.

As expected, the Saintess was still a Saintess. No one had taught her, but she already knew how to wield her soul like this.

“A-And.”

Just when I was about to hum a tune in triumph, having finally brought her into my plans—

“...Th-That too. You’d better be prepared for it.”

“Huh?”

She leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, her hand still in mine.

“The... the bomb shot...”

Please tell me she didn’t agree just for that.

“B-Because you said it yourself! And a promise is a promise!”

“...Haha.”

Yeah. I’d really like to believe it wasn’t just about the booze.

***

That night, when Whitney and the Saintess's long battle of nerves finally met a temporary ceasefire—

By then, the sun had long set, and pale moonlight blanketed the mansion.

Creeeeak...

At last, the office door, which had been firmly shut for some time, creaked open.

“Yaaawn... ah.”

Cecil, who had been crouched near the bottom of the stairs until dusk, refusing to give up, jolted awake the moment she sensed movement.

“How was your time with the young master?”

“......”

“Felt better than you expected, didn’t it?”

The voice of Lunelle, still stationed in front of the office door, warmly greeted Hestia as she stepped out—and Cecil caught every word with pricked ears.

Step, step...

But Hestia didn’t answer. She kept her lips tightly sealed, staggering down the stairs with unsteady steps.

‘I can’t just pretend I didn’t see that.’

Cecil, watching closely, narrowed her eyes.

Even if she’d resolved to investigate everything in secret, she couldn’t just ignore someone who had clearly just suffered something terrible. Her sense of justice wouldn’t allow it.

“U-Um, excuse me.”

“Hyah!?”

“Shhh. It’s okay. I’m on your side.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

So, appearing suddenly before the dazed and descending Hestia, Cecil pressed a finger to her lips and whispered low.

“...A-Are you his sister?”

“Ah.”

Of course—blood wouldn’t lie. Though she didn’t have Whitney’s ever-narrowed eyes, her dark hair and features resembled his enough to trigger Hestia’s alarm.

“I-I am, but I’m nothing like him!”

“......”

“R-Really! I just want to help you!”

Cecil flinched in momentary self-loathing, but quickly shook it off and lowered her voice ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) again.

“I know who you really are—the missing Saintess. And that that bastard kidnapped you.”

At those words, Hestia’s eyes widened.

“So please. Tell me. What did he do to you in there?”

“Uh...”

“Your testimony matters. If you just tell me, I’ll report him to the temple right away!”

As Cecil pleaded, Hestia bit her lip, hesitated—

“...I-I think I might’ve... been made to do something indecent in there. No, I probably was.”

“I knew it...”

Cecil clenched her fists, looking furious as if it had happened to her.

“B-But...”

Then, Hestia’s gaze began to waver—

“...I’m okay.”

Suddenly, she said something utterly unexpected.

“R-Really, there’s no need to report anything. Wouldn’t it just make things worse?”

“What?”

“If you really want to help me... please, just wait quietly for the right time.”

Cecil blinked in confusion, while Hestia turned her eyes away and continued in a shrinking voice.

“I have a plan. I’ve got a trump card. So...”

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“B-But... who knows when he’ll try something again? You could go to the temple now for protection—”

Unable to stand the strangeness of it all, Cecil cut in.

“...Excuse me.”

“Yes?”

“I said I’m fine.”

When Hestia spoke sharply, Cecil stared at her in stunned silence.

“E-Even if it’s something a Saintess should never tolerate... it’s all just part of my trials.”

On her face, Cecil saw something she couldn’t comprehend—subtle guilt, and something dangerously close to expectation.

“Overcoming such things on my own... isn’t that what makes a true Saintess?”

“...Saintess, you’re not seriously—”

“And... to be honest, I’m still unsure myself.”

Cecil’s eyes darkened as she realized what Hestia might be suggesting. Feeling a sting of conscience, Hestia quickly tried to explain.

“H-He might actually be a good person, deep down...”

“You’re seriously saying that?”

“I-I mean, he did save me from the black mages, didn’t he? And considering how many people are after me right now, this place is... surprisingly safe...”

To Cecil, it sounded like the Saintess had completely fallen from grace.

But Hestia's judgment hadn’t been swayed just by Whitney's “bomb shot.”

‘Besides... his soul looked clean.’

When she held his hand to inscribe the oath on his soul, she'd sensed it—his soul was still untainted.

‘More importantly... he accepted the vow I proposed himself.’

She had the innate gift of soul manipulation, and she’d instinctively grasped that without consent, no vow could be inscribed.

‘...Maybe, if I guide him down the right path, that future won’t come to pass.’

Those little truths had quietly swayed the heart of Hestia, whose kind and selfless nature had earned her the title of Saintess.

“That still doesn’t erase what he did in the office!”

“W-Well... if I’m being honest, back there, he... he was kind of nice to me...”

Of course, that wasn’t to say—

“If I’m really being honest... I actually kind of... enjoyed it...”

“Saintess!”

Perhaps it was her purity that made her confess so freely.

“You can’t let yourself fall for that bastard!”

But to Cecil, the guilt and thrill tinging her voice sounded like someone standing right on the edge of corruption.

“You’re not going to become one of those idiots who melts just because a bad guy says something nice, are you!?”

“Ugh?”

“I-I can’t let this go on. Come with me for now—”

Burning with resolve to save the Saintess from her brother’s clutches, Cecil grabbed her arm to lead her away—

“Who's there?”

“Ah.”

—but in her panic, she’d raised her voice without realizing. And of course, that was when Lunelle started down the stairs.

“Ugh...”

Cecil, fully aware that getting caught talking to the Saintess would ruin everything, looked at Hestia with tearful eyes before quietly stepping away.

“You still haven’t left?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Well, if you’ve got time, maybe take a walk. If you eat that much rich food and don’t move, you’ll get indigestion.”

“R-Right...”

Left behind, Hestia chose to hide Cecil’s presence, out of consideration for her good intentions, and began walking down the stairs again.

“...Hmm.”

Then suddenly, she stopped, raised the hand that had held Whitney’s earlier, and tilted her head.

“That feeling just now... what was that?”

Her eyes flickered faintly—tinged with the slightest trace of gray.