The Attendant in the Horror Game C23

Chapter 23

Jade scooted backward on his rear, trying to get as far away as possible from the strange plant. His pants and palms were soaked with snow and dirt, but his legs had gone weak, making it impossible to stand.

“Waaahhhhhh—! Uwaaaahhh!”

“Uh… uh…”

The further Jade tried to crawl away, the louder the plant wailed. Its crying wasn’t even like a baby’s anymore—it sounded like someone screaming. The sharp, piercing sound rang through the forest, stinging his ears.

How big must its buried body be for it to cry that loudly from underground? He didn’t want to find out. Even the frantic flapping of startled birds above made his shoulders tense.

“Ugh…”

What a goddamn horror game!

Jade squeezed his eyes shut and cursed the game’s developers under his breath. Profanity alone didn’t feel like enough. The bizarre plant was bad enough, but the wailing—the endless, echoing crying—made the entire forest feel suffocatingly terrifying.

The Ellovan Forest was already eerie on its own. Towering trees stretched toward the sky, dense and skeletal, stripped of all their leaves. Their trunks weren’t the healthy brown of living wood but pitch black or dull gray, like an army of grim reapers standing in a row.

The canopy was so thick that not even morning sunlight could filter through. Mist hung low in scattered patches, turning the forest into a grayscale painting.

White snow, gray fog, colorless trees. The only splash of color anywhere was the green radish leaves he had pulled earlier.

He remembered how, on his very first trip into the forest to gather mushrooms, he’d hesitated at the edge. It had felt like one wrong step could mean dying quietly, without anyone ever finding his body.

But after coming and going so often, he’d grown accustomed to it—until this plant started screaming. Now the forest’s oppressive stillness felt alive again, crawling under his skin.

“Uwaaaahhh—!”

“I don’t know what’s wrong, but… could you please stop crying?”

“UWAAAAHHHHHHHHH—!”

When Jade tried politely asking, the plant cried even louder, almost as if mocking him. His face crumpled. He was the one who wanted to cry now.

At least it wasn’t human. When he’d first heard the sound, he’d actually thought someone was buried alive down there. Then again—could it really be called a plant if it cried like a baby?

“Bluewood…”

He muttered the name the system had shown him, trying to recall where he’d heard it before.

The word wasn’t unfamiliar. He’d seen it somewhere in the game before. If only he had a quiet moment to think—but the wailing drowned out every coherent thought.

Maybe I should run.

But if he bolted, the damn thing would probably keep crying loud enough for the entire forest—and maybe even the villa—to hear. That would panic Ian and Soondol for sure. Judging by its lungs, this thing could cry for an eternity. He was stuck, helpless and half-deaf.

“What do I do…?”

Maybe the problem was that he’d disturbed it while it was sleeping. Jade cautiously scooped up some of the dirt and snow he’d dug aside and gently sprinkled it back over the Bluewood’s leaves, as if tucking it in.

“There, there… go back to sleep… okay? Sleep well, yeah?”

“Waaahhhnnggh!”

He whispered soothingly as he covered it with soil, desperate for it to calm down. But instead, the crying grew even louder, echoing through the woods like a siren. The leaves flailed violently, scattering the dirt he’d just placed.

“What am I supposed to do?!”

“Waaah?”

At the edge of his patience, Jade shouted without meaning to—and the ground where the plant was buried began to bulge and shake. He could feel it writhing beneath the soil. His stomach dropped.

“No, no, no. Go back to sleep, okay? It’s cold out here. The world’s really, really harsh, you know?”

He frantically patted the trembling mound, pressing it down as if to soothe a child. Gathering the surrounding dirt, he packed it tight, murmuring, “Please don’t come out…”

Pop!

But his effort was in vain. The plant burst from the ground, scattering clumps of soil into the air, and its leafy limbs whipped across Jade’s cheek with a sharp smack.

“Ahhh!”

He fell backward again, his scream echoing through the forest like a trapped animal.

“This cursed forest…!”

>> System <<
Bluewood has lost its temper and emerged into the world.

“I KNOW THAT!”

The damn system always had the worst timing—appearing after something terrifying happened, as if to rub salt in the wound. What did it even mean that the Bluewood had “lost its temper”? What could a plant possibly be angry about?

The Bluewood he remembered from the game had been enormous—a towering tree. But this one was small, almost ginseng-sized.

He’d expected the ground to quake when it stirred. Yet all that remained was a small hole, as if a radish had been pulled out.

>> System <<
Would you like to open the Plant Encyclopedia?
YES / NO

“There’s a plant encyclopedia? Of course YES! Yes!”

A Plant Encyclopedia! Exactly what he needed right now, when the name “Bluewood” was tickling the edge of his memory. He pressed “YES” eagerly. He’d been using the Mushroom Encyclopedia often—it had been a lifesaver. Maybe this one would tell him what the hell he was dealing with.

>> System <<
Your skill Root Vegetables, Here I Come! is too low to access this feature.
Access available at Lv.2 Root Vegetables, Here I Run!

“Then why even ask?!”

Instead of an entry, another window popped up, telling him he didn’t meet the requirements. Jade grabbed his head and groaned. So he had to level up just to read the damn thing?

“Uwaaahhh—!”

“Ah, no, I wasn’t yelling at you, okay?”

As soon as he shouted, the plant started crying again. Panicking, he waved his hands in a flurry, trying to calm it down.

“Ughh…”

He wasn’t sure “soothing a plant” was even a thing, but somehow, it worked—the wailing softened a little.

※ You have obtained the title: “Discoverer of Bluewood.”

Before he could feel relief, a glowing emblem appeared before his eyes, then vanished into his inventory with a flash. He hadn’t even known there was an inventory tab for medals.

“Uwaahh…”

>> System <<
Bluewood wishes to follow its discoverer.
※ You have obtained the title: “Owner of Bluewood.”

“Haha… what the hell?”

Jade let out a hollow laugh. The title had changed—from Discoverer to Owner. He didn’t want to own a plant that cried like a child. Yet the system didn’t care what he wanted.

So just like that, he was the “Owner of Bluewood.” No questions asked. It wasn’t even a useful title—no buffs, no bonuses. Just an empty badge that sparkled mockingly.

So that’s why it said not to touch it.

He finally understood the warning—but only after it was too late.

And really, who could’ve blamed him? It had been right next to a radish. Those lush, healthy leaves had looked far too appetizing to suspect otherwise.

“Uwaaaahhh!”

>> System <<
Bluewood wishes to follow its discoverer.
※ You have obtained the title: “Owner of Bluewood.”

The same message popped up again, twice now, pressing him like silent insistence.

“You mean… I have to take you with me? That’s what this means, right?”

He pointed a trembling finger at himself, a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Uwaaahhh!”

As if answering him, the Bluewood toddled forward and plopped right onto his foot with a wet splat.

“Ah!”

Startled, Jade reflexively caught it before it could fall again, terrified that it might start bawling anew.

>> System <<
Through its master’s comfort, Bluewood has stopped crying.

The system now officially addressed him as “master.” Jade had suspected it for a while, but now it was undeniable—the more miserable his situation, the cheerier the system sounded.

“Haa…”

He pressed a palm to his forehead, sighing deeply. After sitting there in silence for a moment, he gently laid the plant back into the soft snow near its hole.

“See? The ground’s so warm and cozy, right? Isn’t that nice?”

“Ahh.”

But instead of staying, the plant wobbled upright again and toddled toward him, its stubby body bouncing with each step. The title “Owner of Bluewood” remained fixed in the corner of his vision.

“What am I supposed to do with you…”

Jade’s face fell into his hands. If he brought this thing home, who knew what kind of chaos it would cause? But leaving it here felt wrong too.

Maybe it was because of its behavior—not just the crying, but the way it acted so much like a small child.

Now that it was fully out of the ground, Jade could see it more clearly. Its body was tiny and plump, with lush green leaves tinged in pale blue at the base. The main body was almost ivory-white, shaped vaguely like a ginseng root, giving the illusion of short little arms and legs.

And sure enough, it walked—waddling clumsily on those stubby limbs. Each step made its large leaves sway side to side.

“Huaaang.”

The Bluewood tottered right up to him and leaned against his hand as if seeking warmth.

After a while, it climbed into his palm and nestled there, its leaves folding slightly as it curled up. It lay there quietly, as if his hand were a bed.

“Haaah…”

A long sigh drifted from Jade’s lips, visible in the cold air.

He knew himself too well. He wasn’t the type of person who could just leave behind something small, fragile, and alive.