The Attendant in the Horror Game C30

Chapter 30

Jade had been busy since early morning. It was time to prepare for spring.

He aired out the closed rooms to let the spring breeze in and dusted off the lingering traces of winter. Then he found lighter blankets to replace the heavy ones and washed them. While doing so, he also came across some new clothes—though they were made for adults, meaning they would need to be tailored before Ian could wear them.

He decided to postpone sewing until tomorrow and turned his attention to the garden. After clearing away the thin layer of remaining snow and pulling out the dead sprouts, he silently prayed that the northern spring would not be as harsh as he feared.

He had planned to leave once spring arrived, but his plans had been delayed. Ian was no longer hostile toward him, and traveling with both Soondol and Parang would be far too burdensome. So, Jade decided to make the villa a more livable place.

“It wouldn’t hurt to stay for another season.”

Once the weather warmed, he planned to go down to the village to buy seedlings. No matter how cold the north was, there had to be a market where people sold plants that could be grown locally.

As he waited for the snow to melt, he began jotting down the items he wanted to purchase. Before long, he had filled an entire page in his notebook.

“This part’s a bit solid.”

Although some areas of the garden were free of snow, the shaded spots still had ice hardened on the surface. Jade scraped it away gently with his hoe and tamped the ground with its head. He pressed down lightly—then crack! the tool snapped.

“What?”

The metal head of the hoe broke clean off and flew through the air, landing several meters away with a dull thunk as it embedded itself in the snow.

“How could this break?”

It wasn’t as though he was digging rocky soil; he had only been pressing lightly to flatten it. He stared blankly at the broken handle in disbelief. Tools were scarce, and each one was precious—this was the last thing he needed.

“…Seriously?”

He sighed, staring down at the handle in his hand. The black metal head, stuck in the white snow, seemed to mock him from afar.

Jade had always been prone to small misfortunes. This wasn’t even the worst of them. Tossing the useless handle aside, he stood up. There were still plenty of chores waiting.

“Ah!”

Just as he took a few hurried steps, he tripped over a sack and fell to his knees with a wet splat. He had laid the sack out earlier to carry food supplies—and now it had caught his foot.

He hadn’t even tripped on a root or stone—just a bag. Today really wasn’t his day. To make things worse, the thawing snow had turned the ground into mud, so his palms and knees were smeared with dirt.

“What’s wrong with me today, seriously…”

“Myang—!”

Nearby, Soondol let out a mocking cry, slapping his belly as if laughing. Jade brushed the mud off and ignored him, heading toward the bathroom to wash up. But his string of bad luck wasn’t over yet—the bathroom lantern had shattered.

“This is exhausting.”

After changing clothes, replacing the lamp, and refilling it with oil, Jade wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. When he returned to the garden, he realized he couldn’t continue without a hoe.

“……”

Everything seemed to go wrong today. He was used to minor misfortunes, but something about this day felt ominous.

He tried to shake off the creeping unease. It was probably just his imagination.

But he should have recognized it for what it was—the sign of a bad day.

After all, final bosses always appeared late. And today, his greatest obstacle was yet to come.

“Hm?”

He was snapping dry branches in disappointment when he heard it—the faint sound of hoofbeats in the distance. His hand froze mid-motion.

That’s…

A carriage. His heart dropped.

Already?

Jade mentally counted the days.

It had been about three months since the day he arrived at this villa—the day he awoke in this world, lying alone in the snow after a supply carriage had supposedly dropped him off.

He had never found out exactly what happened that day, but it was likely the driver had either abandoned him or been attacked by bandits.

Now, three months had passed since his arrival. Which meant a new supply carriage should have already come—several times, in fact.

The Linwood family sent basic supplies once a month, and a new servant every three months. Yet no carriage had come. The delay had been gnawing at the back of his mind.

The rattling of wheels and the rhythmic clopping of hooves grew louder. The horses’ heavy steps against the frozen path echoed through the thinning snow. Jade tensed as the dark silhouette of a carriage emerged through the northern mist.

Emblazoned on its side was a crest he knew well—two serpents coiled around a pair of crossed swords. The Linwood family emblem.

“Ah… greetings.”

“Hmph.”

When the carriage stopped, a man climbed down from the driver’s seat. He was enormous—easily two meters tall.

His sharp eyes swept over the withered garden and the dilapidated villa before landing squarely on Jade. He didn’t look like a mere coachman—his demeanor was that of a knight or a high-ranking retainer.

“You there, servant. Supplies have arrived.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Unload them.”

The man jerked his chin toward the back of the carriage. He didn’t mean help unload—he meant do it yourself.

Jade obediently nodded and moved toward the rear. Despite being “three months’ worth” of supplies, there were only a few small sacks.

As Jade lifted them down, the man drew out a thick cigar and lit it between his teeth.

“How is the young master’s health?”

Jade’s throat went dry. That question wasn’t born of concern—it was a test.

What should he say? That Ian was doing well? Impossible. After all, Jade was supposedly sent here to kill him.

“…Not well. He’s been sick constantly—hardly a day of good health.”

He chose his words carefully, saying what the man would want to hear. It was safer for Ian that way. If they discovered the boy was alive and thriving, they would send someone else—someone far worse.

“Is that so?”

The man scoffed immediately, as if amused.

“Surviving such a harsh winter… he must be tougher than I thought.”

“……”

Jade said nothing and continued unloading. There were four sacks in total—two of them containing food, though pitifully small. Barely enough for a month, let alone three.

Now that he also had Soondol to feed, the shortage was glaring. Jade almost laughed bitterly.

“There’s… not much food here. Even if the young master doesn’t eat, I still need enough to survive, don’t I?”

He forced himself to play the part of a selfish, indifferent servant—someone who only cared for his own well-being.

“The family’s been short on resources lately. Make do with what you’ve got.”

The man kicked one of the sacks carelessly, knocking loose a potato that rolled away. Jade quickly crouched to pick it up before it could sink into the snow.

Make do, he said. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, with barely a sack of food.

“You there.”

“Yes?”

The man took a step closer, lowering his voice. His tone carried a quiet threat that made sweat bead at the back of Jade’s neck.

“What’s the status of your assignment? We’ve had no reports. I didn’t expect to have to send another carriage.”

At that, Jade finally understood why no one had come for so long. They had assumed Ian was already dead.

“Um…”

“Are Lord Malderic’s orders still standing?”

The name made Jade’s heart skip. The man’s impatient glare left him no choice but to answer. Straightening his posture, Jade replied calmly,

“I just need more time.”

“Time?”

The man raised a brow, then flicked his cigar aside. The lit end flew past Jade’s shoulder, still burning.

“It’s been three months. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten why you were sent here.”

“I haven’t.”

“Then why haven’t you dealt with that brat yet?!”

He grabbed Jade by the collar, snarling in his face.

“B-but Lord Malderic wanted it to look natural, didn’t he? If we’re to hold a proper funeral, there needs to be a body left intact.”

Jade’s mind raced, recalling the lore he’d read from the game’s data files. Ian was the rightful heir, and his uncle Malderic Linwood viewed him as a threat.

Malderic was a man obsessed with appearances—he sought imperial recognition to secure his title as Duke. For that, Ian’s death had to appear natural.

If the body disappeared or showed signs of murder, suspicion would fall directly on Malderic. The same went for starvation or poison—anything unnatural had to be avoided. That was why the family still sent small monthly deliveries of food.

“It’s been difficult. The young master hides constantly. I haven’t seen him in days.”

“That’s your problem to solve! You were paid well enough for it!”

“P—Paid?”

Jade stammered. That was something he’d been wondering for a while. How much had the original servant been paid for this assassination?

“The sum could buy several houses. Don’t tell me you plan to pocket it and do nothing.”

“…!”

Jade’s head spun. That kind of money could change lives—and it also meant failure wasn’t an option. If he didn’t finish the job, they’d come for him next.

“You’d better hurry. Don’t get any ideas. Someone like you is easy enough to silence.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. You know how impatient Lord Malderic can be.”

Finally satisfied, the man released his grip. But even after his hand was gone, Jade still felt his collar tighten like a noose.

“One more thing.”

The man turned toward his carriage, then glanced back with a smirk that sent a chill down Jade’s spine.

“The north is dangerous, isn’t it? If the boy were to die in an accident—say, fall off a cliff—it wouldn’t be suspicious at all.”

It was a direct threat. Jade’s fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.

“I hear monsters roam these parts too, don’t they?”

“Safe travels,” Jade replied coldly.

“This will be the last delivery.”

With that, the man climbed back into the carriage and left.

The meaning was clear—kill Ian within the month.

The sound of the departing carriage faded into the mist. Standing there, clutching the small sack of supplies, Jade stared blankly into the cold wind.

The weight of the bag in his arms felt heavier than ever.