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I Have A Damn Family Again - Chapter 8
🕑 Added 2024-07-20 22:08:00 +0000 UTCChapter 8: Death Trigger (2)
“Ah…! There you are! I found you!”
The woman embraced the child tightly. She didn't care about the stench that clung to him, the filth on his clothes that stained her precious dress, or the diseases he might be carrying. None of it mattered.
The boy, with his dark, almost black hair and piercing blue eyes, was bewildered, held in the arms of this noblewoman. The guards, alerted to the commotion, arrived and tried to separate them, but she only grew angry.
“How dare you lay a hand on my child, my only son! Do you think the Bagrand duchy is a laughing stock?!”
She clung to the child from the slums, her arms wrapped around him protectively, refusing to let go.
Isabella Bagrand even threatened the guards, her eyes blazing with fury, a hint of madness flickering within them.
The boy still didn’t understand what was happening. He had heard her call him her son, but all he knew was that this woman was crazy.
“You must have had a hard time, my child. Let’s go home now. Come, my son.”
Holding his hand tightly, the noblewoman led the ragged boy towards her carriage.
Her attention never wavered, even after they were inside the carriage. She ordered blankets to keep him warm and gently caressed his face, her touch comforting.
The repeated words "my son" and the constant caresses started to frighten him.
But for a boy who had become an orphan overnight, forced to wander the slums, this kindness was overwhelming. He couldn't refuse.
And so they arrived at the Bagrand duchy. It was where it all began.
"This is such a joyous occasion! Our family is finally reunited. Surely the heavens have blessed us. Don’t you agree, my children?”
The three sisters, who had come to greet their mother, were shocked.
“What’s with your expressions? Karn, your one and only brother, has returned to the duchy, alive and well.”
“Mother! What’s wrong with you!”
"What are you talking about? He’s not… he’s not…!”
“Our brother, Karn?”
They were dumbfounded, watching their mother rejoice over the return of Karn, who had supposedly been lost in an accident, while embracing a filthy beggar.
“Mother, it seems you’re not in your right mind. Why don’t you go and rest? We’ll take care of this child and send him back.”
They all had a lot to say.
But they all agreed on one thing: this beggar was not Karn. Though his dark hair and blue eyes vaguely resembled Karn, it was clear that he was a completely different person.
Arina, as if reading their minds, stepped forward, and Claire and Flora felt a sense of relief. They were confident that Isabella would come to her senses if they reasoned with her calmly.
—Slap!
“M-Mother…?”
The two sisters watched in horror as their eldest sister clutched her cheek, red from Isabella’s slap.
“How dare you speak to your brother like that, Arina? This child, Karn, has been living in that wretched place while you’ve been enjoying a life of luxury!”
“Mom! He’s not Karn!”
“He doesn’t look anything like our brother! He’s a complete stranger, just a beggar from the streets!”
The two sisters defended their eldest, shocked and outraged, but Isabella rebuked them angrily.
She continued to protect the boy, the one she had brought from who knows where.
“Can’t you see this toy?! No one else could possibly have this except Karn!”
The toy she was pointing at was the brightly glowing carriage-shaped Memorial.
The sisters argued with Isabella, but they eventually backed down, unable to reason with their mother, who was clearly suffering from a mental illness.
This scene repeated itself several times before the Memorial skipped ahead, jumping forward by days.
The scene shifted to the kitchen in the Duke's Manor.
As always, the maids were busy preparing for mealtime.
However, their conversation was filled with discontent.
“Seriously, why do we have to serve that peasant? It’s a waste of good clothes and blankets, especially considering he’s not even one of the ladies.”
“What can we do? Everyone feels the same. But… what are you doing?”
“What else? I’m going to make his food taste terrible. Take that!”
The maid added an extra handful of salt to Carsein’s food.
“Hey! What if you get caught!”
“Caught? Just keep your mouth shut.”
“Well, yeah, I guess.”
“Seriously, you’re not going to run off and tell the young master about this, are you?”
“…Of course not! I hate that peasant, just like everyone else.”
The other maid hesitated for a moment but then joined in, subtly mixing in extra sauce.
The maids continued to torment Carsein, and whenever he complained, they would accuse him of lying, twisting the situation to make it seem like it was Flora's doing.
That was all the Memorial showed.
It was truly a pathetic sight.
‘…Damn it.’
My teeth gritted at the familiar, unpleasant scene.
An outsider, brought home from the streets by a mentally ill woman.
The undisguised disgust and contempt of the three sisters.
I knew this all too well.
But Carsein had gone through even worse. He had been forced to endure the hardships of a medieval world, a world with a rigid social hierarchy.
He had been alienated by everyone, not just his family.
The three sisters of the Bagrand duchy, who openly expressed their hostility towards Carsein, had completely isolated him. Even the servants didn’t treat him with any respect.
They tormented him constantly.
He was bullied and mistreated at every turn.
He must have shouted and complained, desperate for someone to hear him.
Until he realized that it only made things worse.
“…?”
“Why are you taking so long? Make a choice, Carsein. Don’t dawdle.”
Arina’s cold voice snapped me back to reality as the Memorial scene faded.
Right. I had to choose.
[1. (Point to a maid who just started working here) Get her to serve me.]
[2. You said they all hate me. I’m not choosing anyone.]
[3. (Throw the papers at Arina’s face) Go hire someone new! What makes you think I won’t be tormented again?]
[4. If you’re going to release Camilla from solitary confinement, do whatever you want. I don’t care.]
The choice window was waiting.
The right answer, as I knew, was option 4. To release Camilla from solitary confinement and prepare for the death trigger.
But should I be content with following the "correct" path within the constraints of this system?
The answer was no. I couldn’t simply follow the choices. I had to take advantage of the fact that I was in control of this body, a variable that didn’t exist in the game.
Just like I had intentionally omitted the word "Mother" when I greeted Isabella, just like I had chosen a different answer, “Nothing happened,” I had to twist the choices, create my own answers, even when there weren't any.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What?”
“I told you to choose a maid, and you’re handing me all the papers. Didn’t you hear me tell you to choose?”
“Carsein.”
Arina’s eyebrows twitched at my sarcastic reply. She spoke my name, her voice laced with a warning.
She was telling me to watch my mouth.
But I didn't back down, staring directly into her eyes.
‘You have no idea that this simple bowl of porridge saved Carsein’s life, not that fancy food you offered.’
Of course, she wouldn’t understand. It wouldn’t even register as something worth remembering for a noble lady who had never experienced hunger.
She was so indifferent that she had even tried to act generous while offering me food that was essentially poison. If she was going to be like that…
[2. You said they all hate me. I’m not choosing anyone.]
“I don’t need one. I’m not choosing anyone, understand?”
I wasn’t choosing anyone. They were all the same, both you and those maids. You tried to poison me.
***
A defiant retort.
Arina sighed dramatically at my firm refusal to choose a maid.
“Being stubborn again? When I come back in a few days, this room will be filled with dust and the stench of mold. Go ahead, do whatever you want. I'll let it slide for a few days."
She mocked me, knowing how things would turn out, gathering the profiles and walking out of the room.
She was just like that eldest sister, completely dismissive.
But she wasn’t wrong.
What could a nobleman do without a maid?
He wouldn’t be able to clean his room, organize his belongings, or even take care of himself. Especially someone like Carsein, who hadn't learned anything.
‘But I’m not him, you idiot.’
The smell of mold? Dust piling up?
Don’t make me laugh.
I had prepared for independence before leaving that house, so this was nothing.
I pushed aside the breakfast, my appetite gone, and opened the closet.
As expected, the closet was filled with the consequences of Flora’s malice.
"Ugh… If I went to see Isabella wearing this…"
I shook my head. If Arina caught me wearing these clothes, she would definitely scold me, asking how I could dare walk around the house looking like that.
I needed to eliminate any possibility of being criticized.
First, I had to wash the clothes. With my own hands.
Washing clothes in cold water in the middle of winter.
It had been a while.
I chuckled, gathering all the clothes from the closet and putting them in a basket. I was about to leave when…
—Click.
The door opened inward, and a blonde girl appeared.
“Oh my. Big sister was right. This place is going to be a dusty garbage dump soon.”
It was Flora, her voice filled with anticipation, relishing the thought of my room becoming a filthy mess because I couldn’t keep it clean.
She hadn’t appeared in the game after Arina’s dialogue, because the scene skipped. But her intentions were clear.
"Poor Camilla. To think she would be dragged away to solitary confinement because of you. It’s not even her fault.”
See?
She had come here to deliberately provoke me, hoping I would get angry.
The way she smirked, as if she had won, was so childish.
I didn’t need to engage with her. I walked past her without a word.
“...!”
Flora’s eyes widened in shock. She was clearly annoyed that I wasn’t reacting, and she finally spoke up.
“Hey, where are you going!”
I ignored her and continued on my way.
***
“Hey, Carsein! Where are you going? Answer me!”
Flora followed me, her voice echoing down the hallway as she called out again and again.
When she had asked for the tenth time… I arrived at my destination. The maids’ laundry area, according to the mini-map.
—Thud.
I set the basket full of clothes down and grabbed a large basin the maids used.
“What are you doing?”
How many times had I heard that question? I was tired of her nagging, so I decided to tell her.
“I’m going to wash the clothes you ruined.”
“What? What?!”
“I’m going to wash the clothes you had the maids ruin.”
The basin was almost full of water.
I dumped all the clothes into the basin, rolled up my pants to my knees, and started stomping on them.
Flora’s face was frozen in shock.
I wasn’t sure if she was speechless because I had hit a nerve, if she couldn’t understand why I was doing laundry, or if she was simply confused about why a nobleman was doing laundry in the middle of winter, with ice-cold water.
But it was a satisfying sight.
The muddy water that squeezed out from under my feet turned even darker as I crouched down and began handwashing the clothes. Flora seemed to have lost her voice entirely.
But the silence didn’t last long.
It wasn’t Flora who broke the silence, but…
“You idiot! What the hell are you doing?!”
The pink-haired crazy bitch, her voice dripping with fury, came rushing towards me.
