Surviving As The Villainess's Attendant-Chapter 315: Cold Or Flue

After carefully inscribing every piece of information the client had requested onto the specially treated scroll, the girl finally set the quill down and stretched her arms above her head.

"...Done. Take it."

She handed the scroll over without ceremony.

"Thank you for your hard work," her subordinate said, accepting it with both hands. He hesitated, then added cautiously, "But... are you alright?"

Her movement paused for a fraction of a second.

"Alright?" she echoed, a faint smile touching her lips. "What do you mean?"

"You never showed your face," he said. "Not even once."

Slowly, she reached up and drew back her veil.

Silky black hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the light as her calm, composed expression was revealed. There was no tension in her face—only quiet amusement.

"I had my reasons," she replied gently.

The meeting a few days ago still lingered in her thoughts. Standing there as the leader of the Central Thieves’ Guild, facing nobles who weighed every word and glance like blades, had been... unexpectedly stimulating.

Dangerous, even.

And yet—

"It was an interesting encounter," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Her subordinate lowered his gaze, sensing there was more she wasn’t saying.

She smiled again, softer this time, as if indulging in a private thought, then replaced the veil with practiced ease.

"Go," she said. "Make sure it reaches them safely."

"Yes, Leader," he replied at once, bowing before turning to leave.

Left alone, the girl leaned back slightly in her chair.

’Curious people... all of them.’

And for the first time in a while, she found herself wondering what kind of ripples that single meeting would leave behind.

---

A Few Days Ago...

"Then, come this way."

The boy—no, the servant—spoke as if what he’d just said was the most natural thing in the world.

As if claiming he could cure Hanhyul disease wasn’t enough to raise every alarm bell she had.

Her eyes narrowed behind the thin veil that draped from her hat, hiding everything below her chin.

"Huhu," she laughed softly, the sound light but sharp at its edges. "Do they not teach manners in the North? Asking a lady to come closer so casually."

Betrayal.

Pursuit.

Assassination.

Those were not possibilities—they were daily realities.

The position of a thieves’ guild leader was bought and maintained with blood. And survival meant never lowering one’s guard, not even for a miracle cure whispered by a boy in servant’s clothes.

The veil wasn’t there to entice mystery.

It was there because her face was a liability.

Every faction wanted it.

Every assassin carried its description.

Every bounty hunter dreamed of uncovering it.

And now this boy wanted her to step closer?

Was he planning to snatch the hat and expose her?

Or perhaps he was an assassin himself, lured by the rumor of her illness and the promise of a cure?

"To treat Hanhyul disease," the servant said calmly, as if reading her thoughts, "proximity is required. If you’re uncomfortable revealing your face, I can proceed with a blindfold instead."

She stiffened.

That... was unexpectedly considerate.

Too considerate.

She studied him through the veil—his posture, his breathing, the way his eyes never lingered where they shouldn’t. He didn’t look eager. Nor did he look afraid.

That unsettled her far more than arrogance would have.

"...Explain the treatment first," she said coolly. "I’ll decide after."

Trust, in her world, was never free.

Every deal carried a blade behind it.

Still, a faint thrill stirred in her chest.

This feels... different.

Her intuition whispered—not loudly, not urgently—but clearly.

The instinct that had saved her from countless ambushes.

That had guided her to trustworthy subordinates.

That had allowed her to build the thieves’ guild into something feared even by nobles.

That intuition was silent.

No warning.

No tightening in her chest.

No itch beneath her skin.

Which, paradoxically, was more unnerving than danger.

’Trusting blindly isn’t always wise...’

She knew that better than anyone.

But sometimes—just sometimes—listening to that inner voice led to rewards no amount of caution could secure.

"...Alright," she said at last. "Only the servant comes closer."

She lifted a hand, tightening the veil slightly, ensuring not even a sliver of skin was exposed.

"But that’s as far as I go."

Her tone left no room for negotiation.

Having Hanhyul disease was a weakness she could endure.

Exposing her face was not.

She glanced briefly at the others in the room.

The woman from the northern Frost—a merchant. Dangerous in her own way. Information was her currency, and faces were valuable goods.

And the woman from the western Voss...

It would be a blessing if she didn’t decide to arrest her on the spot.

"Very well," the servant said at last, the hesitation in his eyes giving way to resolve.

He turned to the others and gestured calmly.

"The rest of you, wait here."

No one argued. They knew better.

...

"What a shame," the woman from the Frost Earldom said as she adjusted her gloves, her tone light but regretful. "Your cure for Hanhyul disease would’ve been quite the business opportunity."

Julies chuckled softly.

"Haha. It’s not the kind of cure you can just put on display."

With that, he excused himself from the conversation and walked toward the young woman who had been standing quietly nearby. His steps were unhurried, almost casual, but his eyes missed nothing.

"Could you roll up your sleeve for a moment?" he asked.

She blinked. "You’re going to examine it yourself?"

Hiding the storm of thoughts behind her polite expression, she extended her arm toward him.

’If he doesn’t intend to harm me... this could actually be an opportunity,’ she thought.

Just as the lady from the Frost had said—

Hanhyul disease was rare. Incurable. A slow, merciless affliction that drained vitality year by year.

If there truly was a way to cure it, people would sell their homes, their titles—anything—to obtain it. She herself had already paid an absurd price just to get here.

And if she could confirm even the existence of such a method...

The thieves’ guild didn’t need the cure itself.

Information alone was worth a fortune.

Then Julies spoke again, almost offhandedly.

"It won’t be me."

She stiffened slightly.

"Lady Velra will handle it."

"...Really?"

A familiar, irritated sigh drifted through the room.

"Honestly," Velra said, stepping forward, her voice languid and sharp at the same time, "since arriving here, I haven’t had a single moment to rest. Isn’t this an unreasonable amount of dependence on me?"

The shadows behind Julies stirred.

And then—she emerged.

The girl’s body froze instantly.

Rosy pupils that seemed to glow even in dim light.

Skin pale enough to evoke a corpse laid gently in a coffin.

Hair like molten gold, cascading down her back with unnatural sheen.

Just meeting her gaze sent a chill crawling up the spine.

"...My subordinates were impolite," the girl said quickly, bowing her head a fraction.

"Eh?" Velra waved a hand dismissively. "If you mean those brats, I suggest replacing them. They’re utterly useless."

Her lips curved slightly.

"Unlike my own kind."

The casual cruelty in her tone made it clear—

the battle from earlier hadn’t left a scratch on her pride.

Still, the girl forced a smile and replied evenly.

"If you’re a vampire," she said, choosing her words carefully, "you must have lived a long time. Then you might know a way to cure my disease."

Velra’s eyes flicked to the exposed arm.

The faint bluish veins beneath the skin.

The unnatural cold radiating even without touch.

"...Hanhyul," Velra murmured.

The womans breath caught.

"So you do recognize it."

"Of course I do," Velra replied. "It’s not common among humans, but it’s like cold or flue for us."

Cold or flue?

Her incurable disease was like Cold or flue for her!

She was too stunned to speak afterwards.