The Attendant in the Horror Game C57

Chapter 57

Bang—

The bottle shattered, and smoke exploded outward. Thick gray fumes instantly filled the entire first floor.

Struck by the smoke at point-blank range, Jade couldn’t open his eyes. All he could do was swing his knife blindly. A wave of terror crashed over him—an intruder who might kill both him and Ian was right in front of him, yet he couldn’t see anything.

The intruder seemed to be planning to flee. Otherwise, he would never have thrown a smoke bomb that obscured his own vision as well.

Damn it.

Jade strained to locate him. But he could barely open his eyes; he had no idea when the man’s blade might stab him first. Holding his breath, body tense, he listened for the slightest sound within the acrid haze.

Just then, the intruder’s dagger glinted somewhere within arm’s reach.

Fireball!

Jade whispered the skill’s name urgently. With smoke this thick, Ian would never suspect Jade as the source.

Three small flames shot toward the man. At least one of them was bound to land.

“U—urgh! What the hell?!”

The flames found their target. The man shrieked and thrashed wildly. As he flailed, the fire flickered sharply through the smoke. Jade seized the opening. He gripped the knife tightly and charged toward the flames’ movement.

“Ugh!”

“Move, you bastard—!”

He missed. The man had been stumbling unpredictably in pain, but even so, Jade’s hand had slipped. His blade grazed the intruder—only enough to cut the surface of the skin. Jade tumbled across the floor.

A mistake? Not exactly.

Two of the flames had latched onto the man’s arm and leg. That alone was enough to pinpoint his position perfectly. Had Jade not hesitated for that single moment, he could have driven the blade straight through the man’s body.

But he had not been able to. He had never stabbed a person—never even struck one. Even the slight sensation of cutting the man’s skin had sent a disturbing shiver through his palm. He simply could not plunge the knife in.

In a situation where his life was on the line, had he wanted to cling to moral restraint? He had not lived such a virtuous life to justify such hesitation.

“Hah… hah…”

His breathing grew ragged. Everything—his breath, the situation, the fear—felt far too overwhelming. But he had no luxury to scold himself. The smoke was thinning. That meant the man could see again.

“Son of a bitch…”

The intruder’s low curse echoed through the dissipating haze. His clothes were charred, his skin burned. Through the thinning smoke, Jade could see the raw, blistering marks along his arm and leg. As the last of the flames died, the man’s twisted, blood-red wounds were left behind.

No…

Jade had already suspected as much during the fight with the wraith—the offensive skill was far too small in scale. Worse still, it had a 24-hour cooldown. He could not use it again.

Still seated on the floor, Jade backed away shakily. How was he supposed to kill this man like this?

“You little…!”

The man’s shout rose to a half-mad scream. Now that the smoke had cleared, his face was visible—scarred from ear to cheek, contorted alongside his rage.

Jade’s face was also fully exposed. The terror written across it was easy for the man to read. A triumphant grin twisted across his lips.

“Still can’t figure out the situation, huh?”

He spat and charged. Jade tried to raise his knife to defend, but his hand trembled too badly.

Thud—

Before he could resist, Jade was slammed backward. The pain in his head was nothing compared to the weight crushing his torso. The man had mounted him, dagger raised high.

He was going to die. Jade knew it. Today, here, by this intruder’s hand.

It wasn’t as meaningless as his first life. But what about Ian? Even while staring death in the face, that was all Jade could think about. The intruder would go after Ian next. Would Ian escape in time? Jade had needed to see him flee—but he could not.

Jade groped desperately for the knife in his hand—when suddenly, it vanished. In the blink of an eye, it was gone.

Then, just as swiftly, someone slashed the intruder’s Achilles tendon.

“Aaagh—! Uaaagh!”

By the time Jade understood what had happened, blood was already pouring out. The floor flooded red as the man screamed.

Half sitting up, Jade whipped his head around. When he saw who had taken his knife, his face drained of color.

“Ian…?”

It was Ian.

Ian stood there, gripping the blood-soaked knife, his eyes cold and gleaming. Jade scrambled toward him. Blood from the intruder’s burst tendon had splattered across Ian’s pale face.

“Ian…!”

“……”

The knife Ian held was nearly the size of his entire torso, and yet he gave no answer. His pale expression betrayed nothing—no emotion, no thoughts. His gaze rested on the man’s other ankle, as if preparing to sever that one as well.

“Give it to me.”

Jade quickly took the knife from Ian’s hand. Only then did Ian’s eyes shift toward him.

The lake-like blue eyes were as cold as a raging blizzard. Jade flinched. A chill crept down his spine. He had to say something—anything. But he didn’t know what.

“U—agh!”

Before Jade could speak, the intruder began limping away. He had to be stopped. Jade moved to chase him—

—or tried to.

Bang—

The man threw another smoke bomb behind him. Dense, acrid smoke flooded the hall again—thicker and harsher than before.

Jade immediately pulled Ian into his arms. Pressing one arm around his waist and the other over the back of his head, he shielded Ian completely from the smoke.

“Cough, cough—!”

Jade inhaled the brunt of it. He staggered blindly out of the villa, coughing hard, gray ash spilling from his nose and mouth. Only outside did his vision begin clearing.

“Damn it!”

The intruder was already on horseback, fleeing at full speed. The startled horse screamed and bolted. They couldn’t give chase. He was too far, too fast—and they had no mount.

“Hah… ha…”

Jade exhaled a hollow breath. They had lost him.

The intruder had let down his guard, expecting Jade to cooperate in killing a child—assuming the two of them were on the same side. Such an easy opponent, yet Jade let him go.

Because he hesitated. In that crucial moment, he should have stabbed him—but he hadn’t.

The man would return to the Linwood family. Malderic would never forgive Jade for betrayal. And worse… now that the plan had failed, he would devise an even more foolproof method to kill Ian.

None of this was supposed to happen. In the original storyline, this intruder didn’t escape. Because Jade let him go, Ian might now face dangers that were never meant to exist.

Right.

Jade looked down at Ian.

Ian had taken the knife from him, slashed a grown man’s tendon, and been drenched in blood. This was not something a child should ever experience.

Ian’s blank, emotionless face had shocked Jade. But surely Ian must also have been frightened. Surely it was instinct—just a desperate act to survive. Jade told himself this again and again.

“Ian, are you all right?”

Ian was covered in blood. Seeing him up close made it even clearer. His arm up to the elbow was soaked, his clothes and face stained dark red.

Jade used his sleeve to wipe Ian’s face. His hand trembled uncontrollably.

“My… hat.”

Ian murmured. The hat Jade had bought him was stained with blood. Ian rubbed at the stain with his palm, but the soft fabric only absorbed more of it.

“At least your hair wasn’t hit.”

“……”

Jade spoke lightly, but Ian looked down at the hat with deep regret. If he could have cut off a handful of his own hair to restore it, he would have.

“It was a winter hat anyway. You can buy another next year.”

“I like this one.”

“You can buy the same kind. They’ll sell it next year too.”

“No… I…”

Even if it was the same, it would not be this hat. And though he could simply ask Jade to buy one with him again next winter, he felt strangely unwilling to let this hat go.

“……”

Ian lifted his gaze to Jade’s shoulder. The spot where the throwing knife had struck was split open, bleeding fresh red.

At the sight of his wound, Ian’s vision tinged crimson. The blood running from Jade’s body filled his entire field of view. Everything—objects, scenery—seemed dyed red.

That was why he had taken the knife.

Why he had cut.

“It’s fine.”

Jade rubbed his temple awkwardly when he noticed Ian staring.

“……”

Ian’s lips parted. It was not fine. His pulse roared with killing intent. His insides churned; his hands trembled. He should have killed that man. If Jade hadn’t been watching, he would have. If he weren’t so physically small, he would never have let the man escape alive.

Jade had gone pale simply seeing Ian swing a knife once—but Ian himself felt nothing. That worthless insect of a man could die a hundred times, a thousand times, and Ian would not care. If the man had still been within reach, Ian might have removed his arm entirely.

Drip. Drip.

Blood continued to fall from Jade’s shoulder. Ian’s expression twisted. He couldn’t even understand the emotions surging through him. Everything inside him felt like it was breaking apart.

“Are… you… okay?”

Ian finally managed to ask—barely.

His voice trembled, cracked, desperate. Anyone listening might think Ian, not Jade, was the one wounded.