The Attendant in the Horror Game C1

Chapter 1. Healing in the Horror Game Mansion

Yoon Jaemin—now transformed into a man named Jade—stood amidst a blizzard, staring at a mansion that looked every bit like a haunted house.

Only ten minutes ago, he had been sucked into this game world. At that very moment, he was given his new name: Jade.

“A horror game, my ass. My whole life’s been a horror show.”

He was the kind of man for whom everything went wrong: if he fell backward, he’d break his nose; if he dropped something, it’d fall straight into the drain. That was his curse—his talent, if one could call it that. And judging by the fact that he’d opened his eyes inside a game right after dying, it seemed his misfortune had followed him beyond death itself.

“The afterlife would’ve been better than this.”

But it couldn’t be the afterlife. The crest engraved on the mansion’s gate was far too familiar. It was the same one that appeared in the final stage of the horror game “Night of Blood”—the game he’d been playing right before he died.

It was the estate of the infamous Duke Ian Linwood, whose mansion was often described with words like “ominous,” “cursed,” and “accursed.”
Every time Yoon Jaemin—no, Jade—had reached this stage in the game, he’d died without fail.

“So this must be after the game ends, huh?”

Jade muttered to himself, pacing before the mansion gates.

As far as he remembered, the Linwood estate had been a sprawling, magnificent place—an extravagant display of the Duke’s wealth and power. There were multiple annexes apart from the main building, and the wide grounds had been so beautifully rendered that just admiring the illustration had been half the fun.

But what stood before him now was small, desolate, and utterly miserable. The countless annexes and gardens were gone; only one building remained, neglected and so fragile-looking that a single kick might make it crumble.

The exterior was blackened as though scorched, the moss clinging to its walls bleached pale with time. Even thieves would probably avoid a place that reeked this much of misfortune.

“This really is the Linwood mansion, though.”

He remembered it well—he had never once survived long enough to get past the front gate, but the emblem on it was unforgettable: two crossed swords entwined by a pair of serpents climbing upward.

>> System <<
Linwood Duke’s Villa

As if to confirm his suspicions, a glowing system window appeared before him. It claimed to “assist” him, stating clearly that this was indeed Duke Linwood’s mansion.

“That’s strange.”

Jade frowned at the floating text.

Shouldn’t a game have quests, a status screen, or at least an inventory? Any game worth its salt would offer an item or two out of courtesy.

And this particular game had been notorious for its difficulty—a survival horror where the goal was simply to stay alive. Clearing it without system assistance was virtually impossible.

Yet since entering this world, he’d only seen the system window twice: once to inform him he was inside the game, and now.

There were no tutorials, no guides—nothing related to actual gameplay. For a moment, he’d thought he’d been made a player, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

“Maybe that’s for the best. Damn, it’s freezing.”

Becoming a player in a hopeless horror game wasn’t exactly on his wish list. Death was the only certain outcome, and he’d failed to beat it countless times even when alive. There was no way he’d succeed now.

“Guess I should head inside.”

Shivering violently in the northern cold, Jade forced his way toward the mansion that looked ready to vomit out a ghost at any second. Normally, he wasn’t easily frightened—but at this point, he didn’t have the luxury of choice.

Just ten minutes ago, he’d woken up alone in the snow outside the mansion, wearing nothing but a tunic and trousers.

To drop someone into the freezing northern wastelands without even a coat or fur-lined boots—this game truly was cruel beyond reason.

“Better to risk a ghost than freeze to death.”

Judging by the decrepit state of the mansion, it looked like no one had lived there for years—perhaps even a decade after the original game’s ending.

Still, for someone with nowhere to go and frost creeping up his fingers, it was a blessing in disguise. There was no better shelter than an abandoned house.

Without further hesitation, Jade trudged through the brittle, snow-covered garden and reached the mansion’s door. As expected, there wasn’t a soul in sight—not even a single ant.

“Ahem… anyone home?”

Out of politeness, he knocked a few times and called out, but no answer came. Carefully, he pushed one of the heavy doors open. With a long, grating creak, the aged wood groaned—and the musty stench of dust and rot hit him square in the face.

“Ugh, it’s pitch-black in here.”

Despite it being broad daylight outside, not a single sliver of light penetrated the mansion’s interior. It felt as though he’d stepped into another world entirely, severed from reality.

Even after opening the door, Jade hesitated to enter. But the northern wind at his back was merciless—it shoved him forward, and at last, he stepped inside.

Thud—

The heavy door slammed shut behind him, echoing like a death knell. Darkness swallowed him whole; he couldn’t see even an inch ahead. After a while, though, his eyes adjusted enough to make out vague shapes.

“Seriously, there’s not even a light in here?”

Grumbling under his breath, he groped along the wall until his hand brushed something. A lamp.

In a rush of desperation, he twisted the knob.

“Oh?”

He hadn’t expected much—but miraculously, the lamp flickered to life, casting a dim glow across the hall.

And just as the light bloomed, the system window reappeared before him.

>> System <<
You are Ian Linwood’s attendant.