The Attendant in the Horror Game C60

Chapter 60

Jade ran as soon as he left the temple. If he looked back, he feared his resolve would crumble. No—did he even have any resolve left to crumble? This was the end. His role had to conclude here.

It had been only a few months of acquaintance. In truth, even that was too long. Originally, it was an encounter meant to last a single week—an event described in a mere line.

And yet, he could not quiet the turmoil in his chest. He had thought he’d spent the past three months preparing himself to leave, but apparently he hadn’t. This separation felt sudden. He had bought new curtains, winter supplies, and food, organizing the villa for the coming seasons… but he had failed to organize the affection that had taken root inside him.

I was supposed to bake a cake.

If only he’d stayed one more day. Just one—he could have made it. Ian had asked specifically for a carrot cake, even choosing the menu himself. It was the first time Ian had ever picked a dish rather than quietly eating whatever he was served.

He would have loved it. Even if Ian wasn’t expressive, he would’ve eaten it well. And Soondol—he adored sweets. He would have chirped and whined until his stomach grew round. For Parang, who had only just begun eating, it would have been his first cake in life. Even the mop ghost would have pretended to clean nearby while sneaking glances.

The cozy, cheerful scene played vividly before Jade’s eyes—as though it would unfold tomorrow. How presumptuous those hopes were.

I’m alone again.

He was alone once more. Jade, who had always been alone, stood alone again. Why did this feel like loss? Nothing had been taken from him. He was merely returning to where he had always been.

Though he had often grumbled about how busy the villa life was, he had loved that noise. Ian and Soondol bickering, the mop ghost’s grumbling—it had never bothered him.

His childhood had been carved only out of silence. Life at the villa was the complete opposite of that dreadful quiet.

“I need to go.”

At some point his steps slowed. When he turned around, the temple was still visible. Jade shook his head as though to scatter madness, then searched for somewhere he could hire a carriage. He needed distance. Only then could he shake off these thoughts.

Most importantly, Jade was now a fugitive. By now the intruder would have reported everything to Malderic. People would go to the villa. They would discover that Jade had cared for Ian and smuggled him out.

“How far can I go with this money?”

After pushing through crowds for a long while, he found a place where coachmen gathered.

Jade emptied his pockets. After giving everything to Ian, all he had left were two silver pence—small coins he’d stuffed into a pocket and forgotten about.

“Hm, you could get to a village down in the lower north.”

“Nothing farther?”

“Young man, where’s your shame?”

A coachman chewing the end of his cigar snorted and pushed Jade’s hand away.

“What about renting a horse…?”

“Goodness, man. That’s even more expensive. Where’d you crawl out from? The mountains?”

“I see…”

“How do I know you won’t run off with the horse? You’d need a deposit worth the horse itself.”

Jade felt sick. He had proudly handed everything to Ian, and now he couldn’t even secure a ride. He had no food, no clothing, nothing. Two silver pence were all he had in this world.

“Isn’t there any other way? Please.”

“If you’re that desperate, try the freight wagons. Ask if there’s spare room.”

“Freight wagons? Ah—thank you.”

Jade hurried to the line of cargo wagons. It was late, so there weren’t many. Most were packed full. He checked each wagon as the drivers loaded their goods, but nearly all were filled to the brim.

Then he spotted one—crates stacked neatly, with a stocky merchant still loading items. By his estimate, there was space where perhaps two adults could crouch.

“Excuse me, where are you headed?”

“South. Why?”

The merchant looked him up and down with an unfriendly squint. Broad-shouldered, bald, rough-looking—exactly the type Jade would rather avoid. But there was no choice; the others had no room.

“May I ride with you? I don’t have much money but—”

“What kind of lowlife are you? Get lost. You’ll bring misfortune to my wagon.”

The man laughed at Jade’s two silver pence and waved him away.

But this was Jade’s final option. And it was going south.

The south—far from here, warm, and easy to live in. For someone penniless like Jade, nowhere would be better. Even if he slept on the streets, at least he wouldn’t freeze.

“Please. Just let me ride in any leftover space.”

“Look, kid. The south is far. This wagon isn’t going straight there. At least a week of travel. How will you survive crammed in with luggage? And you—”

He pointed to Jade’s bandaged shoulder.

“You look like you need a doctor, not travel.”

Still, Jade bowed his head.

“I’ll work. I can help load cargo—anything.”

“With that shoulder?”

The merchant eyed him skeptically. Jade quickly plastered on a bright, confident smile—the same one that had got him every part-time job back in his old world.

“I can do it. If you’re not satisfied, you can throw me off the wagon.”

“Hm.”

The merchant considered, then nodded. The empty space wasn’t worth much anyway, and Jade seemed competent enough.

Snapping his fingers, he agreed.

“All right. You won’t be lifting boxes anyway. I need someone to sort crates. Do that.”

“Yes! Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Jade bowed repeatedly. If he had been turned away, he would have been sleeping in the northern streets tonight.

“But no seat up front. The driver’s bench is full.”

“That’s fine. I’ll squeeze between the cargo.”

The merchant tossed Jade a stack of papers and a pen.

“Sort by box size and count them. I’m terrible at math. We’re leaving soon, so hurry.”

Jade skimmed the papers—they were a mess. The sums were wrong. He corrected the numbers and turned toward the crates.

Before he got to work, the merchant called out:

“Name. We’ll be traveling together a while.”

“Oh—Jade. I’m Jade.”

“I’m Den.”

Den offered a hand, and Jade shook it. His palm was thick and calloused—clearly a man used to hard labor.

“Get moving. I don’t hire slackers.”

“Haha, of course.”

Den clapped him on the back and walked off. Despite his rough appearance, he seemed straightforward and easygoing.

“Let’s start.”

Jade began sorting crates by size and counting them. He needed to prove himself—he needed that ride to the south.

The south. It felt right. It had always been where he’d intended to go. There, he could build a new life. He had survived the north; surely he could survive anywhere. Steady, diligent work was one of the few things he excelled at.

Having made up his mind, Jade’s resolve hardened.

The wagon rolled along a bumpy dirt road.

Riding in the cargo hold was far harder than he’d imagined. Every turn of the wheels made the wagon jolt and clatter. Sometimes he slammed into crates; other times, when they hit a stone, the whole compartment bounced painfully.

But he couldn’t complain—not when he was riding for free. At least there was a cloth canopy overhead, shielding him from the wind. It wasn’t cold. Jade wedged himself between boxes and leaned his head against one, trying to sleep.

“Mya…”

Just as his eyes began to close, he heard it. A familiar sound. A sound that should not be here.

He wasn’t asleep—so it couldn’t be a dream. He jerked upright and scanned the compartment.

A hallucination?

Of course Soondol wasn’t here. Soondol should be at the temple now, perhaps eating with Ian.

“Mya…”

The sound came again—fainter, but unmistakable.