Surviving as a Maid in a Horror Game-Chapter 12.2

I didn’t reply. I simply looked at Adrian, who had closed his book and was preparing to head to the hospice. The first thing he reached for was his black gloves. I’d once held a pair just like them—a cursed item, unmistakably wrapped in malevolence, thanks to my Eye of Insight skill.

“Special Gloves (Ancient Magical Artifact)

A specially designed tool that leaves no trace of its use.”

“Hilda?”

Adrian approached me, gazing at me curiously with his clear blue eyes. My lips parted slightly, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question that hovered at the edge of my mind: Are you planning to use those gloves to kill Joanne?

I’d thought I’d done all I could, but a fleeting idea crossed my mind: Maybe I could ask Adrian for a favor. It wasn’t something I would’ve dared to consider in the past, but now… Adrian had said himself that he’d grown fond of me. We’d shared enough experiences—perhaps even a bond—that might sway him.

“Uh, young master? Do you remember the little painter you sponsored? His name was Claude, I think. When I saw him sitting alone in your room, I thought you were going to kill him and tried to intervene.”

“Yes, I remember. He recently sent me a letter thanking me for helping him enroll in the academy. He has a promising future.”

“Back then, I begged you to spare him, didn’t I? I even told you I know plenty of people who deserve to die more. There are so many bad people out there. So… can’t you spare my grandmother too?”

Adrian’s brow furrowed, one eyebrow arching sharply—a bad sign. I instinctively shrank back, but since the system wasn’t throwing up any frantic warnings, I mustered the courage to continue.

“At the time, I said Claude was too scrawny, like a chicken with no meat or a pizza with no toppings, remember? Well, um, my grandmother is different, but in a way, it feels just as wrong. She’s deeply devout, and she even seems to have received a divine revelation. Wouldn’t killing someone like her… upset your stomach?”

“What are you really trying to say, Hilda? Is this because she raised you?”

“…You knew?”

Caught off guard, I glanced up at him in surprise. Adrian’s expression remained composed, almost indifferent.

“Yes, Hubert told me. But didn’t she steal your upbringing funds and refuse to see you even when you wanted to? And yet you’re asking me to forgive her and spare her life? Why are you so soft?”

“...Because I’m human.”

“Human?”

“This isn’t about being soft or tough, young master. It’s about being human. Even when it’s inconvenient, even when it brings nothing but trouble, there are times when you just can’t look away. That’s what being human means.”

If I were heartless enough to ignore a dying person’s plea, I would’ve offered up the most convenient sacrifices to Adrian long ago. I wouldn’t have risked my life to defy him. Joanne might have sinned, but the temple had already cast her out as punishment. Her crimes didn’t justify my helping her, but neither did they justify my indifference.

“Hmm… I still don’t understand. But if that’s how you feel, Hilda…”

“Does that mean… you’ll spare her?”

For a brief moment, hope flickered to life, and I looked up at him eagerly. Adrian sighed softly.

“But, Hilda, think about it from my perspective. I need to kill humans to survive. Isn’t it more humane to take the life of an old woman nearing death than that of a young person with a bright future?”

“That’s… I hadn’t considered that. But since she raised me, could you at least… show her some mercy?”

“What’s the problem with killing someone who’s going to die anyway?”

That one, simple question felt like a chasm opening up between us. An invisible line seemed to split the ground beneath us, widening until it became an unbridgeable void.

Because I’m human, I feel compassion and guilt when I see an old woman at the brink of death. But Adrian, as a demon, sees it as nothing more than a calculation. The result is the same either way—death. Trying to explain human emotions to a demon felt impossible.

How could I ever make him understand this vast difference?

“I see. From your perspective, that makes sense. Shall we head to the hospice now?”

“Yes.”

Adrian observed me for a moment before starting toward the hospice. Any lingering hope I’d had of changing his mind vanished, making each step toward the hospice feel heavier than the last. Was it really necessary for me to accompany him to kill someone? Hubert seemed perfectly capable of handling that role himself. Maybe I could feign a stomachache and stay behind. But as his personal maid, running off in broad daylight would be unthinkable. Being a demon’s lackey was exhausting.

Thanks to Hubert unlocking the hospice for me, I entered alongside Adrian. It felt like crossing an invisible threshold, as if moving into a new map. The hospice was far colder and darker inside than it appeared from the outside.

The sound of our footsteps echoed down the hallway, the only trace of life in the oppressive stillness. The deeper we went, the colder and darker it became, the chill seeping into my bones.

“Welcome, young master. Everything is ready.”

Hubert emerged from the shadows, welcoming Adrian with a calm demeanor and opening the door to the patient room. Adrian took a step toward the room but paused, turning to look back at me. His gaze was icy, chilling to the bone—the kind of look one might have before committing murder.

“Hilda, are you coming in?”

“No! I’ll wait outside the door. If… if that’s alright with you.”

I hastily responded, my voice tense, and quickly added a qualifier to avoid seeming rude. I tried to make it clear that I had already made up my mind and was merely seeking his approval. For a moment, the demon seemed to deliberate, as if my unspoken insistence hadn’t fully registered. I seized the opportunity, vigorously shaking my head, and managed to remain just outside the door.

How long does it take to kill someone?

It wasn’t a thought I had ever entertained before, but in this moment, I hoped it wouldn’t take long. Hubert was a doctor, so he’d probably used drugs to sedate her first, right? If that was the case, at least it would be painless. Adrian could do whatever he needed to do, and she wouldn’t feel a thing. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut.

I’d done all I could. What else could I have done? I tried to help her escape the mansion, only for her to insist on retrieving her prayer book. I need to focus on surviving myself. It’ll be over soon… quietly, quickly.

And then, a desperate scream shattered the silence of the room.

“…Ahhhhh! Ah, ahhh, demon! A demon! Oh God, why? Why have you forsaken me?”

Joanne’s hoarse voice erupted in terror. My breath caught in my throat as her fear, hot and molten, seemed to seep into me as well. How did she know Adrian was a demon? Did she see his face in one of her so-called divine dreams?

“God! Don’t come near me! Ahh! Ah… ack! Hi—Hilda…”

And, as I feared, Joanne began to call for me. How did she know I was outside? Damn it, I shouldn’t have come into the hospice. My legs felt rooted to the floor, unable to move—whether toward the patient room or back outside the hospice entirely.

“Cough… cough… Hilda! Hilda! Save me!”

No matter how hard I pressed my hands over my ears, her gut-wrenching screams clawed their way through my fingers, ripping into my eardrums. It was like someone was scraping at my mind with their fingernails.

I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth might shatter. It’ll be over soon. Just wait it out. A shadow of a bird, its wings broken, flailed in my mind.

“Ah… urk!”

With a final, strangled gasp, silence fell again. Though I hadn’t seen it, I could vividly imagine her trembling, her body convulsing as she died. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.

Is it… over?

As I cautiously removed my hands from my ears, the door to the room swung open with a sharp bang.

“Hilda.”

Adrian’s voice was urgent, but calm. I instinctively turned toward him—and immediately regretted it. Against my will, my gaze locked onto Joanne.

Is she… dead?

Her eyes hadn’t yet lost their focus, her face frozen in an agonized grimace, etched with the pain of her final moments. Her neck twisted at an unnatural angle, as though she had somehow been able to see through the door to meet my gaze even in death. Her pale lips hung slightly open, as if she were about to call my name.

What the hell? Even for a horror game, this is too much.

“Are you okay?”

Adrian’s voice cut through my haze of shock, making me blink in disbelief. Was he seriously asking that right now? My eyes landed on his outstretched hand, the black gloves he wore catching my attention. Even through my blurred vision, I could see them clearly, surrounded by a thicker, darker aura of malice than before.

Those gloves—they were the ones I had stolen and returned. With those gloves, he had taken her life without leaving a single trace. I shouldn’t have given them back. If I hadn’t returned them, maybe… just maybe, Joanne would still be alive.

I glanced back at Joanne. Her neck bore a distinct dark aura, evidence of strangulation. Tears that hadn’t yet fallen still clung pitifully to her eyes, which were now dull and lifeless, like those of a dead fish.

“Save me, Hilda. Please, save me…”

I shook my head, forcing the haunting image away.

It’s fine. It’s just a game. This is all just a game. If only I could save and reload, I could bring her back as many times as I wanted, like any other NPC.

But just moments ago, she’d been speaking to me. Crying. Begging for her life.

It’s just a game. These are nothing but fragments of data, designed to perform the same actions and repeat the same lines over and over for every player.

I even tried to save her. I wanted to help her repent, to ease her fear of the demon. I felt a flicker of human compassion.

But it’s just a game.

…Why doesn’t it feel like a game?

“Hilda.”

“Ah!”

Adrian’s hand lightly touched my shoulder, and I shrieked, falling backward onto the floor. His hand hesitated, then withdrew.

No, I can’t let him see my fear. I bit down on my trembling lip, forcing the corners of my mouth into a weak smile. It must’ve been a grotesque expression, but Adrian wasn’t looking at my face. His gaze was fixed on my hands, shaking uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry, young master. I… I just got startled because I knew her.”

“…Are you afraid of me?”

His voice was low, and his face bore an expression of quiet sorrow, like a stray dog abandoned on a rainy day. It was so far removed from what I’d expect from someone who had just killed a person that it unsettled me even more.

Adrian had claimed to be fond of me, yet he’d killed someone I cared about without a shred of mercy. That meant he could just as easily kill me. His idea of “fondness” clearly wasn’t the same as mine. To him, I was probably just a particularly interesting fish in a pond—a decorative one, sure, but still just a fish. One he wouldn’t hesitate to cook if necessary.

And yet, here I was, stupid enough to think my words might sway him.

“Ah… no, of course not. Shall I escort you back to your room?”

“You are afraid of me.”

Of course I am. He terrified me even before this, but now? Now it’s even worse. I wanted to deny it, to shake my head, but my body wouldn’t obey. What’s with this horrifying realism?

“Hilda, I didn’t kill her.”

Liar.

The thought sprang to mind immediately.

Then how do you explain the gloves? The aura around Joanne’s neck? You yourself said it was more logical to kill her than to let her live. You’re only denying it now because you’re worried I’ll run away in fear, aren’t you?

“Believe me. I didn’t kill her. I couldn’t.”

“….”

“I didn’t. Truly. At the very last moment…”

Adrian repeated himself, as if it were the only phrase he knew.

I began to feel uncertain. Why would he lie? What reason could he possibly have to lie to me? Or… could he actually be telling the truth? Could he really have stopped, even while clinging to life by a thread? Why?

“No matter what I say, you won’t believe me, will you?”

“Adrian feels hurt.”

“You’ve always been afraid of me, no matter how hard I’ve tried…”

“Adrian feels wronged.”

“When you look at me with fear in your eyes, I…”

“Adrian’s condition ‘Headache’ is triggered.”

Great. The headache strikes again. Normally, I’d hand him some painkillers, but my hands were still shaking too much to move. I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying, though one thing stuck out. Seriously? You’ve tried not to be scary? Do you have any idea how many heart attacks you’ve almost given me?

If he’s this upset, could he actually… not have killed her?

No, but that doesn’t make sense. Joanne screamed, and by Adrian’s own logic, there was no reason not to kill her.

“Why?”

Adrian’s gaze grew distant, as if he were speaking to someone unseen. Was there someone there? Someone invisible?

“I don’t understand why this feels like such a big problem to me.”

Adrian muttered to himself, frowning deeply. Wow. The demon hardly ever lets his expression crack like this. Something must’ve really gotten under his skin.

But that wasn’t all. He kept glancing at me, then furrowing his brow, rubbing his chin, and even pinching the bridge of his nose. I’d never seen him show so much emotion, and for a moment, my fear was overshadowed by curiosity. The only problem was the ominous aura he was radiating, growing thicker by the second. Seriously, dude, could you not? You’re terrifying enough as it is.

“…You can go, Hilda.”

Adrian’s voice was cold, and his words were blunt. I froze, startled by his sudden change in demeanor. What’s his problem now? Why does he seem… upset?

“Alone? I can escort you back to your room.”

“No. Go rest today.”

“Then I’ll come back during dinner.”

“You don’t look well. I’ll handle things on my own. Go back to your quarters and rest.”

“….”

“Why aren’t you leaving?”

“…Uh, young master. I know this isn’t the right time to ask, but this is a paid day off, right?”

Still avoiding Joanne’s lifeless body, I slowly got to my feet. I hadn’t fully recovered from the shock, but if I was getting a day off, I needed to confirm it. After everything I’d been through today, if I didn’t get paid, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.

Adrian glanced back at me, his brow furrowing slightly.

Silence is consent. I thanked him, bowing deeply, and staggered out of the hospice. My legs felt shaky, but at least I could walk.

Later that evening, while passing through the kitchen, I overheard Katarina sharing some surprising news.

“Retisha got hurt? Who was she fighting with?”

I’d been planning to use my day off to gather some experience points, but this caught my attention. Apparently, Retisha had been injured while confronting someone and was now receiving treatment. Hubert must’ve been the one treating her. I wondered if Joanne’s body had been hidden somewhere out of sight.

“Who else but Jed? Ugh, just saying his name makes my skin crawl. I can’t stand him.”

Katarina shuddered in disgust. The name rang a bell, and my eyes widened.

“Jed? You mean the stableman?”

“That bastard tried to mess with Adel. Retisha was furious and demanded he leave the mansion immediately, but he refused and threw a tantrum. When she ordered others to drag him out, he grabbed a shovel and swung it at her. She got hit.”

“Oh my god, is she okay? And Adel—she’s only sixteen! He went after a child?”

Katarina gritted her teeth and slammed her fist against the cabinet, making the plates and cups inside rattle. I flinched. Those dishes looked expensive.

“That’s why he’s a bastard! Luckily, the shovel barely grazed her, so she only ended up with a cut near her left eye. If it had hit her head directly, it could’ve been fatal. If that had happened, I wouldn’t have let him get away with it.”

“And Jed? Did he leave the mansion?”

If you think about it, Jed is a far more fitting sacrifice for Adrian than Joanne. The guy’s a criminal with an “Evil” alignment and a rap sheet that includes attempted assault. Killing him wouldn’t exactly be a moral dilemma… Wait. What am I thinking? I shook my head, horrified at my own thoughts.

I’m from a lawful society. Criminals should be reported to the police and brought to justice, not killed outright. But does that kind of law even exist here?

“…No. They gave him three days to pack his things. He’s the only one who can handle the count’s horse, so he’s been favored for a long time. The count personally ordered that he be given time to find another place. If it had been any other servant, this probably would’ve been swept under the rug again. Who knows how many more girls might’ve suffered? In a way, we should be grateful Retisha got hurt—it’s the only reason he’s being kicked out.”

So, no law then. As I mulled this over, Katarina sighed deeply, her gaze drifting toward the hospice. She must’ve been thinking about Retisha, worrying about her injuries. I couldn’t blame her. Having lost my parents young, I barely remembered them, but I could understand why she’d be so upset about her mother getting hurt.

“Even now, Retisha’s worrying about the count’s breakfast. She was supposed to pick up strawberry jam from the marquis’ estate today, but now she’s injured and can’t go. She kept saying it’s unacceptable to delay the count’s breakfast. What am I supposed to do, leave my injured mother behind to run errands?”

Frustrated, Katarina threw a piece of paper onto the table. Tears welled up in her eyes as her emotions boiled over.

I cautiously picked up the note. It must’ve been a list Retisha had given her. Typical Retisha—dedicated to her duties even while injured.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

“Um, Katarina. If you don’t mind, I could go in your place.”

“What? Really? You’d do that?”

Her tear-filled eyes widened in surprise. I wasn’t heartless enough to refuse to help someone in her situation. Besides, I owed Retisha a lot, and truthfully, I wanted a reason to leave the mansion. Being inside the estate felt suffocating, haunted by thoughts of Joanne’s death. A trip outside might be just what I needed.

“Of course. I just need to pick up the strawberry jam, right?”

“Thank you, Hilda. Thank you so much! I’ll prepare a carriage for you right away!”

“Map Unlocked!