The Attendant in the Horror Game C39

Chapter 39

At daybreak, the Shadow Wolves could begin prowling again. Jade and Ian decided to leave the cave before dawn. To do that, they had to repack everything Ian had brought from the villa—but since not everything fit in the sack, Ian walked while hugging the blanket in his arms.

Even as they walked, Ian kept glancing at Jade. It must have bothered him to see Jade carrying the sack with his injured hand.

He wasn’t wrong to worry. Jade couldn’t move his left arm at all. Because of that, he had no choice but to sling the sack over the hand already wounded by the wolf’s claws.

Ian clearly wanted to do more. But the sack was nearly as big as his own body. Practical as he was, Ian knew he couldn’t carry it even without trying. It was a relief he was at least carrying the blanket.

Thanks to the lantern Ian retrieved from the villa while Jade lay unconscious, they could walk through the forest safely.

The Shadow Wolves couldn’t leave their territory during the dark night anyway. This level of light wasn’t enough to draw them out. It only illuminated the small space ahead of their feet.

“The moon is bright. And the stars too.”

The sky was full of stars. Moonlight scattered across the snow, turning everything silver. The two of them trudged along, burdened with their belongings, looking somewhat ridiculous—but Jade found it strangely fun.

Ian and Jade walked side by side. Unlike when they came into the forest earlier, their distance was close—close enough to feel each other’s warmth. Maybe it was just Jade’s imagination… but he felt they had grown a little nearer.

Maybe I won’t have to worry about Ian killing me anymore.

It was a selfish thought, but it crossed his mind.

Jade had been good to Ian at first for a reason: to survive. To avoid being killed by Ian and to stay in the villa until spring.

But that wasn’t why he saved him earlier.

His body moved before any thoughts did. He had never been cold or calculating to begin with.

And no matter how pragmatic someone was, no one risked their life just to win an eleven-year-old’s favor. The way his heart lurched whenever Ian was in danger, the way he relaxed only when Ian was safe—none of that was calculation.

How much attachment could one form in such a short time? Yet isolation had a way of exaggerating bonds. When the only two people for miles around lived together every day, affection was almost inevitable.

And Jade was a person who loved easily and deeply. Becoming attached like this was probably the natural outcome.

“…….”

But he knew the real reason.

Why Ian felt unbearably precious. Why he wanted to protect him no matter what.

Because every time he looked at Ian, he saw himself—his younger self. Maybe what he truly wanted was to protect the child he once was.

He saw that small boy left alone in a tiny room, not knowing what to do. Jade had wished back then that someone—any adult—would stay by his side.

Even a terrible one would’ve been fine. But until eighteen, no one did.

Crunch, crunch.

Their footsteps pressed into the snow in rhythm. They walked in silence toward the villa. When snow gave way to solid ground beneath their feet, the villa finally appeared through the trees.

“Meowwwww!!”

“Ugh!”

The moment they opened the villa door, Soondol flung himself straight into Jade’s chest. He hit so hard that Jade’s solar plexus throbbed.

“Myaa! Myang! Myaaaak!”

He was chattering frantically. Jade didn’t know what he was saying, but the tone made it very clear: this was scolding. Having been left alone in the villa for hours on end, Soondol was crying his eyes out. His large golden eyes were brimming with tears.

“Myaaaang!”

He thumped Jade’s shoulder with his paws.

Earlier in the evening, Jade still hadn’t returned. Only Ian came back several times—carrying blankets, bandages, and supplies outside. And each time Ian left again, Soondol panicked.

He tried to follow, but Ian had prevented him. So Soondol had been stuck in the villa for hours, unable to see Jade, fearful and anxious.

“Myaaaaang!”

He wailed in indignation. But then his expression froze as he noticed Jade’s injured arm. He freaked out so hard he nearly fainted.

“Kyaaa! Myak!”

He ran circles around Ian, demanding to know what happened. He hissed at him, then spread his little wings and puffed up to show how strong and scary he was.

Normally, Ian would’ve shoved Soondol away without hesitation. But today, he did nothing. Clearly, Jade’s injury weighed heavily on him. Ian looked like a scolded child, shoulders drooping.

“If it wasn’t Ian, I still would’ve gotten hurt.”

Jade spoke directly. The Shadow Wolves appearing wasn’t Ian’s fault. Without Ian, he wouldn’t have dodged the first attack or thought of using pumpkins as defense.

“……”

“Truly.”

“No.”

Ian shook his head firmly. If not for him, Jade would not have been injured. Jade was strong—more than strong enough to protect himself.

“This time, I’m right. I got hurt because of the wolves, not because of you.”

Jade said it in a steady, unwavering tone—his hazelnut eyes firm with conviction. A rare expression for someone usually soft and gentle.

When a kind person becomes resolute, it can feel more persuasive than anger. This was one of those moments.

Eventually, Ian nodded. At this moment, Jade could’ve pointed at a pinecone and called it a pine tree, and Ian would’ve agreed.

“Right, and you promised we’d read the storybook together today.”

“……”

“Right?”

Jade seized the chance to re-establish their reading promise.

After being ignored yesterday, he’d felt unexpectedly hurt. When Ian didn’t reply, Jade played his trump card.

“My arm hurts sooo much… I really need a bedtime story so I can sleep. Ahh—so much pain…”

“…Fine. We’ll read it.”

Ian sighed softly and nodded. Jade beamed, then told him to wash up first.

When Jade had first arrived, Ian’s gaze had been icy and sharp. Now it was gentler than ever. Maybe, in exchange for pain, he had gained something far more valuable.

Jade unpacked the sack and put firewood into the fireplace.

Losing the axe was unfortunate, but thankfully he had split plenty beforehand. His arm injury meant he wouldn’t be visiting the forest anytime soon.

His clothes were filthy from rolling through the snow, and his body felt grimy. As time passed, his broken arm swelled painfully.

Undoing the splint and bandage Ian had wrapped made the pain flare. A stabbing, throbbing agony spread from his bones. His other hand still burned from the wolf’s claws.

There were no ointments in the villa—not even disinfectant. The bandages themselves were strips of repurposed cloth Jade had washed and cut for emergencies.

The more he thought about it, the more grateful he was that it was him, not Ian, who had been injured. If a child had suffered infection or inflammation in this environment, the consequences would be disastrous.

Washing was a struggle. It took twice as long with one arm. When he finished, he was exhausted enough to collapse into bed. Drying his hair was impossible—he simply threw on fresh clothes and headed to Ian’s room.

Tonight’s storybook was about a peaceful village of ducks. After the day they had, Jade just wanted something warm and calm. He thought Ian would too.

“Meeng! Mng-mng!”

“Hyaaaang—!”

Soondol trotted behind him, carrying Parang by its leaves—muffling both of their cries.

“Soondol, I told you, Parang isn’t food.”

“Uwaaang…”

Parang flailed its tiny limbs helplessly. These two… would they ever learn to get along? Jade sighed and pried Parang out of Soondol’s mouth.

But the moment he held it, Jade yelped and threw it instinctively.

“ACK! WHAT IS THAT?!”

“Hyaaang?”

Parang flew through the air and landed safely on Ian’s fluffy bed. It wasn’t hurt—it simply flopped there limply.

Still startled, Jade rushed over—eyes wide—to confirm what he’d seen.

“Myamyang!”

“Wh-what… what is this…?”

Parang had a face.

A literal face. The previously featureless white sproutling now had eyes, nose, and a mouth.

Jade was speechless. Ian, watching beside him, was just as stunned. Soondol flailed proudly as if saying, See? I brought it because it was weird!

“How is this even possible?!”

“Auu…”

Parang stood up confidently and toddled forward. At the edge of the bed, it reached its tiny arms out—clearly asking to be held. And its eyes were unmistakably fixed on Jade.

Parang had once been just a plump little root with no features. Now it had the stitched-toy-like face of a plush doll, with simple black dots for eyes.

It was… cute. But this kind of overnight change was beyond anything Jade expected from this world’s fantasy logic.

“Soondol! Was this you?! Did you do this to Parang?!”

“Myamyang!”

Soondol raised his paws in an X-shape, insisting he had nothing to do with it. He wasn’t the type to lie about this.

“Ian, do you know why this happened?”

“Ah…”

Flustered, Ian hesitated, then fetched a book from the study—a botanical reference. He flipped to a page describing Bluewood.

“When raised by a person, it may form eyes, nose, and mouth during its infant stage. These features naturally disappear when roots begin to form in its mature stage…”

Jade read the rest of the passage.

When he first found Parang, it had been equivalent to a newborn. Apparently now it had reached the toddler stage.

The book also said that once facial features formed, it could begin eating soft foods.

Which meant—

“That’s another mouth to feed…!”

In other words, Jade’s workload had just increased.