The Attendant in the Horror Game C52

Chapter 52

“Goodness, how does a cat eat so neatly, like a person?”

“That little fellow is truly adorable.”

The men drinking beer at the next table laughed as they watched Soondol.
Although they were complimenting him, Jade worried they might find something strange, so he quickly pulled Soondol into his arms.

“Yes? Ah… haha. Thank you.”

“Y—yaong…!”

Sensing the mood, Soondol attempted a catlike cry.
However, his meow was ever so slightly off. More precisely, it was too honest and direct to be a true cat’s sound.

“Hahaha, it really does say ‘meow.’”

“What a funny cat. Very well.”

Amid their laughter, the three of them finished their meal. The stew was so delicious that it disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Ian, I’m full.”

“So am I.”

Back in their room, Jade touched his stomach with a bewildered expression.
He was full. The sensation of fullness—something he had forgotten entirely since arriving in this world.

“Let’s visit the market tomorrow.”

After washing and settling beneath the blankets, drowsiness washed over him. His body was exhausted, but that only made the day feel perfect. He had eaten well and would sleep deeply.

“Ian, since we don’t have a storybook tonight, shall I tell you a story I know?”

“…What kind?”

“Well… it’s a story called The Little Prince.”

Originally, Jade did not know any children’s stories. No one had ever read to him, and his home had never had money for books—not even for food.

But last year, he had read The Little Prince in his high school library.
It was part of a required reading assignment. He began reading only to write the response essay, but he became engrossed and read it three times.

How should I explain this?

Ian would not understand deserts or aircraft. Jade decided to modify the elements appropriately.
Soondol curled up beside him, tail flicking softly.

“Once upon a time, there lived a boy. He loved a rose.”

“How can a person love a rose?”

Ian’s question came flatly, almost dismissively. Even for a child, he lacked any sense of childish wonder.

“Oh, come now. Love works that way. The one you love might be a rose, or an object. Love doesn’t choose its target.”

“Even if the target is much younger or much older?”

“Well, one must still have a conscience. If the other person is far too young, that would be inappropriate, wouldn’t it?”

“……”

Ian did not seem pleased with this answer.
He had been listening attentively, yet he suddenly rolled over and turned his back.

“I—Ian?”

“……”

No reply came, even when Jade called him.
Jade reviewed their earlier exchange, trying to find what he might have said wrong, but nothing came to mind.

“If you’re tired, we can sleep for today?”

“……”

“Then I’ll blow out the candle.”

As Jade rose to extinguish it, Ian shifted again, turning slightly, avoiding Jade’s eyes.
Although still displeased about something, he clearly wanted Jade to continue.

“Please go on.”

“A story about love?”

“The Little Prince. He loved the rose. What comes next?”

“Ah, yes. But the rose was delicate and proud. So the prince was hurt and left his planet.”

Jade continued summarizing the plot.
Ian seemed deeply focused—far more than when Jade read from the usual children’s books.
He listened with unwavering attention.

“So he didn’t love it after all.”

Ian murmured calmly after hearing the part about the prince leaving.

“Why do you say that?”

“If he truly loved it, he wouldn’t have left over something so trivial. Leaving cannot be called love.”

He spoke decisively, as though stating an obvious truth.
For someone so young, his values around love were unusually defined.

“Just listen a bit more. The Little Prince eventually returns to the rose.”

“……”

“The boy meets many adults…”

Jade’s quiet voice filled the room as he told of the contradictory adults the prince encountered, people who had forgotten how to love.

When Jade reached the part about the fox, Ian’s immersion was unmistakable.
He even shifted from the edge of his bed, inching closer toward the small table between them.

“‘But if you tame me,’ said the fox, ‘I will be unique in all the world.’”

“……”

“Hearing those words, the boy realized that his rose was not one among many, but something truly unique.”

The story went on for quite some time, but Ian listened through to the end without losing focus.
Jade, encouraged by his attentiveness, continued steadily without growing tired.

Beneath a night sky filled with countless stars, Jade’s gentle voice drifted in the peaceful village, and the two gradually fell asleep.

The following morning, Jade opened the sack he had brought and sorted the items he could sell.

After selling the candlestick yesterday, he had only 13 pence left. He needed more—both to buy the supplies Ian required to survive and to prepare his own escape fund.

“This plate won’t do.”

“I expected as much.”

He had taken one of the finer dishes from the villa, but upon closer inspection, it bore the Linwood crest on the bottom. He did not want to risk selling something so identifiable.
Once he sorted through everything, he was left with a spoon, a small figurine taken from the cabinet, and an old smoking pipe.

“Let’s go.”

He packed the sellable items into his backpack and went downstairs for breakfast.
It was the same stew as the night before, but it was not tiresome—only delicious.

This morning, they were served a loaf of bread as well. Dipping it into the stew made it exceptional.
After a satisfying meal, they left the inn.

Outside, the small village was filled with tents and carts.
People from nearby villages had come to see the market, and the streets were bustling.
At the village center—too small to be a plaza but too large to be a courtyard—stalls were packed tightly for the day’s market.

“Wow.”

“Myaang!”

“……”

Jade admired the lively scene.
Ian said nothing, yet his large round eyes widened further as he looked around.
It was clearly his first time seeing such a market.

“Fresh vegetables from the first harvest of spring!”

“Freshly baked rye bread!”

Merchants called out everywhere.
A baker set out bread still steaming from the oven. Everywhere Jade looked, there was something tempting to buy.

“Jade…”

“Oh—why am I standing here?”

Unable to resist, Jade had unconsciously joined the line in front of the bakery. Ian’s voice snapped him out of it.
He did not yet know how much he could earn today; he shouldn’t spend anything prematurely.

“Let’s go over there.”

Today, he planned to sell his items not to an antique shop but to a street peddler.
That felt safer—such travelers purchased goods and then disappeared far away.

At the edge of the market, near the village entrance, they found a wandering merchant.
He had laid out a wooden board with random items on top, and a sign reading We buy anything sat before it.

“I’m here to sell some things.”

“Hm? Let’s see, put them down.”

The man tapped the board with his smoking pipe.
Jade placed the items one by one.

“Hmm… let’s see. This one is decent enough. But this one? Not much use.”

The wandering merchant was more particular than the antique dealer. He examined the items with a smug air, shaking one leg lazily. His casual tapping felt borderline disrespectful—clearly a tactic for price negotiation.

“Oh? Isn’t this a dragon’s claw?”

But the moment he found the latch from Soondol’s box, his attitude transformed instantly.
He became polite, cupping the latch in both hands as he examined it carefully.

“You recognize it?”

“Of course. This is genuine. How could you bring something this precious out so casually? My goodness.”

“Myaang!”

From inside the backpack, Soondol answered affirmatively.

The merchant hurriedly brought out a velvet-lined jewelry case and gently placed the latch inside.
Jade immediately snatched it back. He had every intention of negotiating.

“I never said I was selling it yet.”

“Ah, why the hesitation? I’ll pay you generously.”

“Truly?”

Suspicious, Jade drew out the last word. The merchant clasped his hands together and bowed.
His earlier arrogance was nowhere to be seen.

“Of course. This isn’t just any claw—it’s the Black Dragon’s claw. How could I offer a low price?”

“Is it that valuable?”

“Valuable? Unquestionably. Please, sit here. I’ve never seen one come through the market before.”

Excited, the merchant brought out two small stools and seated Jade and Ian.
He even purchased tea from a nearby stall to serve them, then donned gloves and a magnifying glass to appraise the claw.
The excessive hospitality made Jade uneasy.

“…Soondol. Are you sure we can sell this?”

“Myaoong.”

Jade opened the backpack slightly.
Soondol looked up and replied with clear certainty.

Dragon claws were rare—trophies obtainable only from a dead dragon. Dragons lived over three hundred years, and their numbers were extremely low. Such items were seldom traded, and only through black markets at that.

It was, in every sense, a luxury item.

And according to Soondol…

“Myaa.”

That one is fake.

It was counterfeit.

Footnotes

“The Little Prince” (Le Petit Prince) — A novella written by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry in 1943. In Jade’s world, it is widely known; he adapts the story to explain it in simplified form without modern elements (e.g., planes, deserts), as Ian would not understand such concepts.