The Attendant in the Horror Game C28

Chapter 28

Jade untied his bundle and proudly took out the star-shaped potatoes and purple carrots he had harvested that day. He wondered if northern carrots were normally purple, but judging from Ian and Soondol’s expressions, that wasn’t the case.

“Uh… carrots?”

“Myang? Kaang-!”

Ian looked puzzled, though he tried his best not to show it. Soondol, on the other hand, was openly looking at the vegetables as if they were inedible.

Item <<

“Shade Carrot”
A somewhat gloomy-looking carrot. Edible.

But Jade decided to trust the system’s words. The color might be suspicious, but the important thing was that it was edible.

“They might look strange, but they’ll taste good. I used to see these a lot when I was learning servant work.”

Though he hadn’t been here long, Jade shamelessly bluffed. Being a servant and being a part-time worker were basically the same thing anyway.

“Alright, I’ll start cooking now.”

“Can I watch?”

“Myang.”

Ian asked as Jade busily laid out the kitchen tools—though, truthfully, the “tools” were little more than a chopping board, a large chipped knife, and a few bowls.

“Of course! You’re more than welcome.”

With a cheerful grin, Jade rolled up his sleeves and washed the carrots and potatoes in cold water. Without a grater, he had to slice everything thinly by hand.

“Hmhm, hmm~”

He hummed softly as his hands moved quickly. Soondol’s tail swayed to the rhythm of Jade’s tune, and the crisp sarak-sarak of slicing filled the kitchen.

The freshly dug carrots gave off a sweet, clean scent. With every rhythmic motion of the knife, the shredded vegetables piled up in the bowl, forming a small colorful mound.

“Kkiieee—”

Hearing the lively sounds, the mop ghost glided along the wall into the kitchen. Parang, perched on the ghost, came along as well, swaying its leaves to match Jade’s humming.

“Kkiie.”

“Uwaah?”

When they neared the carrots, Parang’s leaves suddenly perked straight up. Coincidentally, the carrots looked quite similar to Parang’s own body.

“Uwaah?”

Parang touched its small body with its stubby arms, as if to check.

“Oh?”

Jade’s chopping motion halted midair. The large leaves on Parang’s head were trembling slightly.

He looked between the purple carrots on the cutting board and Parang. Unlike the thick, long carrots from his world, these northern ones were short and plump—almost the same shape as Parang.

Granted, Parang’s body was white and looked more like a ginseng than a carrot, but still.

“Uuuwaaah…”

Parang let out a quivering whimper and covered its face with its little arms, like a child burying its face in its hands to cry.

“Oh, no, no! I wasn’t cutting you!”

Jade quickly set down the knife and tried to explain, but the damage was already done—an entire pile of shredded carrots lay before him.

“Huaaaahhh.”

The mop ghost, trying to calm Parang, rocked side to side, but Parang’s crying only grew louder. Once it started crying in earnest, it would be nearly impossible to calm down.

“Alright, Parang. Just close your eyes for a bit. If you close them, you won’t see anything, okay?”

Resigning himself, Jade gave up on reason and turned to distraction instead—literally trying to hide the evidence.

The problem was that Parang had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Jade had no idea what part to cover. He fumbled awkwardly, unsure where to begin.

“Now that I think about it, how do you even see without eyes?”

“They probably perceive information differently,” Ian said from the side. “Just like the mop ghost does.”

“Is that even possible?”

“They’re not human. It seems they can sense things through their leaves.”

Jade nodded. Indeed, both the mop ghost and Parang were always moving—the mop’s strands and Parang’s leaves never stayed still.

“Here.”

Without changing his calm expression, Ian took out a small iron pot. It seemed he was suggesting that they temporarily keep Parang inside.

“Hmm… alright, just stay in here for a bit.”

Jade opened the lid and gently placed Parang inside. Surprisingly, Ian’s idea worked—once inside, Parang seemed unable to sense its surroundings.

“Huaa?”

Instead of crying, Parang tilted its leaves side to side in confusion, brushing the inner walls of the pot. It turned toward Jade’s voice as if trying to locate him.

“Uwaaah?”

Then Parang stood up inside the pot and tried to climb out, gripping the rim with its short arms. The pot was shallow enough for it to reach the edge, but its stubby limbs couldn’t lift it out.

Watching Parang struggle to escape, Ian silently fetched a deeper pot from somewhere. He seemed ready to drop Parang inside it, where it wouldn’t even be able to touch the sides.

Though Ian often appeared gentle and mild, moments like this revealed a surprisingly cold side to him—and Jade could never quite get used to it.

“Haha…”

“Here, Jade.”

“Uh…”

“I’ll do it.”

When Jade hesitated, Ian reached out himself, pinching Parang delicately between his thumb and index finger, as though touching something unpleasant.

“Uwaaaahhh!”

Apparently, Parang found the feeling mutual. It let out a loud wail, thrashing in protest.

“Uwaaah! Waaah!”

Flailing its short limbs, Parang kicked at the air like a child throwing a tantrum. Every time Ian spoke or came near, it swung harder—as if it recognized its “captor.”

Jade’s small wish that everyone in the villa could get along seemed to drift further and further away.

“Still… putting it in a pot feels wrong.”

He scratched his head awkwardly. He knew the intention was to block its senses, but the sight still felt strange—almost cruel.

He had no intention of harming Parang, of course. Yet seeing it inside a pot filled him with guilt. And if he put it back on the mop ghost, it would probably just start crying again.

“Let’s see…”

“Myang.”

While Jade looked around for another solution, Soondol appeared with a thick dishcloth in his mouth. He flapped it above Parang suggestively, as if to say, Let’s just cover it.

“Uh… yeah, that could work, but…”

“Myang, myang!”

“But wouldn’t it suffocate?”

Really, neither Ian nor Soondol seemed to have much sympathy for Parang.

“Myang?”

Soondol flicked his triangular ears dismissively, as if wondering what the problem was, then cheerfully dropped the cloth over Parang.

“A bag! Let’s put it in a bag instead!”

Snatching the cloth midair, Jade quickly stopped him. If the cloth had fallen, Parang’s delicate leaves might have been damaged.

“This is perfect!”

He lifted Parang from the pot and opened the cloth sack he always carried. It was the same one he had used when he first brought Parang home—familiar and safe.

“Uwaaah?”

Parang still seemed displeased but calmed down compared to when it was in the pot.

“Hah, I’m exhausted, and I didn’t even do anything.”

“Are you tired, Jade?”

“No, I’m fine.”

It wasn’t exhaustion—it felt more like his energy was being drained. Still, one look at Ian’s clear, gentle eyes and any complaints he had vanished.

“Whew.”

Jade took a breath and resumed chopping. Tunk, tunk, tunk—steady, clean sounds filled the room again.

Until he finished cutting the vegetables, Parang stayed quietly in the sack, while Ian and Soondol watched beside him. The mop ghost crawled along the wall, observing curiously.

Jade’s knife work was quick and precise, almost mesmerizing. The three of them unconsciously followed his hand with their eyes.

“Alright, now we just mix this with flour! Simple, right?”

“The vegetables look pretty.”

“Myang.”

Jade set down the knife, admiring the evenly sliced potatoes and carrots. Ian and Soondol looked on with curious fascination.

“Once we add flour and water, that’s basically it. I’m sure you’ll both like it.”

“Is it something you like, Jade?”

“Of course. Soondol, you’ll like it too.”

“Myang…!”

Though Soondol was a picky eater, Jade’s confidence seemed infectious. Even Ian found himself excited, knowing it was something Jade enjoyed.

“Ah, flour… It’s been so long since I’ve seen this.”

Holding the precious flour sack in his hands, Jade felt a wave of emotion. It was the first time since arriving here that he’d had flour. It was more valuable than gold.

He decided to use only half. The rest he’d save for tomorrow—to make carrot cookies. With sugar on hand, it was perfect. Thinly slice, coat in flour, fry crisp, sprinkle sugar. Simple and sweet.

Gripping the sack, he tugged at the top seam. The opening was sewn tightly shut with thick thread—nothing like modern packaging.

“Why is this so hard to open?”

He tugged harder, grimacing.

“Myang-myann!”

Seeing his struggle, Soondol jumped in to help. He grabbed the corner of the sack with his small paws and pulled.

“Myang!”

“Huh?”

His sharp claws accidentally hooked the end of the thread.

It wasn’t intentional—he had just swiped randomly, but by chance, one claw caught the knot at the perfect spot.

The string unraveled instantly, and Soondol stumbled backward, startled. The flour sack came with him.

“Myang?!”

“Ah—!”

Poof!

The sack burst open with a loud pop, and flour exploded into the air like a cloud of smoke.