The Attendant in the Horror Game C25

Chapter 25

“Waaahhh!”

“……”

When Jade stopped him, Ian hesitated, as if thinking something over, then raised his hand again. The Bluewood wailed even louder.

“Throwing it out is not an option either…!”

Ian’s arm, which had been halfway through a throwing motion, froze midair. A sharp, early-spring wind howled through the open door, too cold to be called mild.

The look Ian gave Jade seemed to ask plainly, Why not? His innocent expression carried a kind of pure confusion, as though he truly couldn’t understand what was wrong with tossing the thing away.

“Uwaaahhh!”

But Jade’s heart wavered almost immediately under the assault of the Bluewood’s crying. He had always been weak to things that were small and fragile.

“Myang! Myang!”

Soondol, who had been perched on Jade’s shoulder, suddenly flew over to Ian’s side, cheering him on. They fought nearly every day, yet in moments like this, their teamwork was oddly perfect.

“You said it dies if it’s touched by someone and abandoned…!”

“And… why does that matter?”

Ian’s voice was clean and calm, as if the death of the creature didn’t concern him in the slightest. His cool, ocean-blue eyes blinked once, clear and unreadable.

“I just don’t see what it has to do with us, Jade.”

“It’s not that it concerns us, exactly… I just feel guilty. I’m the one who woke it up.”

“Ah…”

Ian’s eyes rolled thoughtfully before he gave a reluctant nod, but the mention of “guilt” clearly puzzled him even more.

There were times when Jade thought Ian didn’t act like a child at all—this was one of those moments.

“I—it might be useful, you know? You said it helps relieve fatigue for those nearby. That’s valuable, isn’t it?”

Maybe, Jade thought, it was exactly the kind of companion he needed. Taking care of it might not be that hard either—it had calmed down earlier when he’d just petted its leaves.

“But it hasn’t stopped crying since it came inside.”

“Waaahhh!”

As if to prove Ian’s point, the Bluewood burst into loud sobs, its oversized leaves flapping up and down wildly for such a small body. It looked like it was sending out distress signals.

“It’s too noisy.”

“Well, that’s because you’re holding it like that…!”

Jade quickly shut the door, blocking out the freezing wind. As the chill dissipated, Ian finally lowered his arm, though he still seemed quite ready to toss the plant at the first opportunity. Thankfully, he took a step back instead.

“The Bluewood doesn’t emit healing energy until it matures. That takes around ten years.”

“Ten years, huh? Well… we could always raise it for now and sell it later if it becomes too difficult.”

Jade shrugged lightly. From the sound of it, caring for the plant would be like raising a child. But that didn’t mean he could just abandon it.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine with that?”

Ian’s tone softened slightly, though there was still a hint of disbelief.

“It’ll grow huge someday. Up to thirty meters tall.”

“Thirty… meters?”

That was hard to imagine, considering it currently fit in the palm of his hand. The number immediately sparked a memory—an image from the game.

In the game, there had been a final section leading to this very villa, a quest where players had to cross the dense Ellovan Forest. And one of the horror elements in that area had been—of course—the Bluewood.

In the game, Bluewoods were towering trees with dark blue bark, the only ones in the forest with leaves. Their thick canopies blocked the moonlight, cloaking the entire forest in near-blackness.

When players approached the villa, the trees would reach out with massive branches and leaves, barring their way.

If I remember right… they were poisonous.

Blackish-blue pheromones would seep from the leaves, draining the player’s health rapidly while inside the mist. The only way forward was to cut them down.

When felled, the Bluewood would bleed like a living creature—thick, luminous blue liquid splattering in all directions, the sound of slicing wood uncomfortably visceral.

Jade remembered squinting through that part of the game every time, barely managing to keep playing.

“Huuuh.”

The Bluewood’s cry jolted him out of his thoughts. Looking at the tiny, fragile thing now, it felt almost impossible to connect it to that monstrous tree from his memories.

“Still… it feels wrong to throw it out in this weather.”

Remembering how he’d once cut down those massive trees in-game left him with a faint, inexplicable guilt.

Ian tilted his head, watching him. The boy’s curls were tousled from the cold wind. Usually, Jade would smooth them down, but right now, he looked too preoccupied even to notice.

Ian couldn’t understand what could make him hesitate so much. If it died, so what?

“…If it bothers you that much, do as you please.”

“Waaahhh.”

Ian leaned down and gently set the Bluewood on the floor. It toddled forward awkwardly, then collapsed right onto Jade’s shoe.

“Oh dear.”

Jade picked it up again and placed it carefully in his palm. The plant lay flat, its leaves swaying softly—it looked content.

“So… it’s alright if I keep it here?”

Jade asked with visible relief, his tone hopeful. As Ian’s servant, he needed explicit permission to bring anything new into the villa. To his delight, Ian nodded without much resistance.

“If you want to, then fine.”

“Myang…”

Ian’s gaze lingered on the Bluewood for a moment longer than necessary. Seeing that look, Soondol was certain—the plant wouldn’t be staying long.

After receiving Ian’s approval, Jade went to the storage room and found a pot of suitable size. He placed the Bluewood inside, filled it with soil up to its waist, and sprinkled it with clean water.

Tickling its leaves gently, he patted the soil until it looked snug. Soon, the Bluewood went quiet—sleeping, most likely. Without a face, it was hard to tell, but the silence was comforting enough.

“Why were you next to the radish anyway? You’re a tree…”

Jade sighed softly, looking down at it with a worried expression. Another responsibility had joined his list. He was already anxious about the day he’d have to leave this villa.

The mop ghost would likely follow him, and now, unless he found someone to take it in, so would the Bluewood.

And Soondol… well, that was another problem entirely. No matter how hard he tried to get the creature to bond with Ian, Soondol still preferred to perch lazily on his shoulder.

“Myang, myang.”

Soondol tapped his shoulder gently, mewling with what sounded like pity.

“It’s evening already, huh.”

The sun had begun to sink, painting the courtyard in golden light.

“Myang.”

Beside him, Soondol rubbed his round belly with a paw, a clear sign he was hungry.

Though Ian had said Soondol didn’t need to eat, he still liked to join them for dinner—not out of hunger, but because he seemed to enjoy the routine itself.

Unfortunately, the day’s expedition hadn’t yielded much. Jade had hoped to fill his sack now that he had the Root Vegetables, Here I Come! skill, but all he’d managed to bring back was a single radish.

It was enough for one meal, but barely. He’d have to return to the Ellovan Forest tomorrow.

“Myang? Myang?”

Soondol fluttered his wings, asking about dinner. Whenever he was curious about the menu, his wings always flapped faster.

Standing up, Jade reached into his bag and held up the lone radish triumphantly.

“Radish soup! We’re having radish soup tonight!”

“Myang?”

Soondol tilted his head, then pointed a paw at the Bluewood as if asking, We’re eating that? Clearly, the little creature still wanted it gone.

“No, no, we can’t eat it. It’s staying with us for now.”

“Myang…”

“Think of it like a stew made with radish.”

“Myang?!?”

Soondol recoiled in disgust, shaking his head violently. To Jade—a born-and-bred Korean—radish soup was a warm, comforting dish, but to Soondol, the idea of boiling radish in stew form must have sounded absurd.

“Trust me, it’s good once you try it.”

“Myang…”

Jade tucked the radish under his arm and headed to the kitchen. Despite the meager harvest, the radish was large and healthy. It would be enough for the three of them.

Even though Soondol looked utterly unenthusiastic, he trudged along behind him, sulking.

“I don’t think radish soup sounds bad,” Ian said with a soft smile from the kitchen doorway.

Jade glanced back, momentarily charmed. The way Ian spoke—so calm, so pretty—never failed to disarm him. Soondol scowled at the boy but stayed quiet.

“Well then, allow me to show you what I can do.”

Jade grinned confidently and began chopping the radish with steady hands, while Ian and Soondol watched from either side of him.