THGA 18

I would never let him stand over me again. To prepare for that, I had always practiced suppressing my emotions. I deliberately inflicted wounds on my own arm, practiced slapping myself while imagining Sren’s face—anything to harden myself.

I pushed myself harshly so that even if he pointed a knife at my eyes, I wouldn’t waver. It seemed to work; I was able to take control of the situation with composure, hiding the fear I felt toward Sren.

Sren, faced with my cold response, struggled to speak. He simply tried to read my mood through my gaze. As his silence stretched, I asked in an even softer voice.

“Why aren’t you answering? Could it be… you like Adenhar more?”
“…No, that’s not it!”
“Then don’t give Adenhar any more attention.”
“…Uh-huh.”

He answered as if this wasn’t the situation he expected, looking troubled. I gently stroked Sren’s head like one would a puppy.

“Good boy.”

I smiled faintly and spoke firmly.

“I’ll take your gift. Thank you, Sren.”

Thank goodness. With this, Adenhar would be in my hands.

At that thought, Sren’s gaze narrowed. Right—someone as suspicious as him wouldn’t trust me. But I had already anticipated this reaction. I tilted my head, touching my lips as if in thought, and asked curiously:

“Why?”
“Huh?”
“That expression just now… you don’t want me to take what’s yours.”
“…Well.”

Sren’s expression faltered, and he swallowed the rest of his words. I held out my hand to him.

“You need to give me the key too.”

He hesitated, and I called him again in a softer voice.

“Sren. Why do you keep acting like this?”

Perhaps feeling he needed to say something, Sren finally spoke with a faint smile.

“Rachel… you’re doing this on purpose, right? To protect Adenhar.”

I motioned for him to come closer. He leaned toward me, and I rose on my toes to place a brief kiss on his lips. When he shivered slightly, I didn’t let go, biting his lips firmly. The metallic taste of his blood touched my tongue, and I licked it, smiling deeply. Then, staring at him blankly, I whispered:

“You’re still talking about Adenhar?”
“…!”
“You want to die?”
“Th-That! Rachel…”
“If I can’t have him, I’ll kill him.”
“No, that’s not it at all!”

Finally, Sren handed me the key without delay. Clutching it tightly, I issued a stern warning.

“Don’t ever come here again.”
“Okay!”
“If I catch you with Adenhar again… you know what I mean, right?”

Sren nodded repeatedly, sweating nervously. I stroked his head once more. Though still suspicious, perhaps because of what I’d just said, Sren said nothing further. With that, I was able to reunite with Adenhar.

“Go ahead upstairs first. I’ll be up soon.”

Sren obediently withdrew. I watched his back for a long while. Once he disappeared completely from view, I exhaled, my tension finally loosening. My legs went weak, and I collapsed to the floor, letting out a long sigh.

“Ha… I thought I was going to die.”

Sren was sharp and frightening. He worried so much about reading my mind. But acting like a crazy woman had apparently been effective. Unlike before, there was no trace of murderous intent in the atmosphere.

Only then could I look at Adenhar’s face comfortably.

I’m sorry, Adenhar. There’s nothing I can do for you right now.

Still, I’ll do my best to find the Moonstone and help him escape from here. And after that, I’ll make sure to hide from everyone. If Adenhar stays with me, he’ll get caught up with Sren unnecessarily. That would be bad for both of us.

So our bond ends here.

So don’t like me. After all, I’m not the real Rachel.

Sren, having come up from the basement, paused. He listened quietly, wanting to hear Rachel’s voice. Even at this distance, it was no problem for him—his senses were far more acute than ordinary humans.

Sometimes, it made him feel out of place. He was so different from normal people, from head to toe. Perhaps that’s why even Grand Duke Crochet and the Grand Duchess had kept their distance.

He had long known that, while they scorned him, they also feared him. Reading emotions was especially easy for Sren.

But when had it started? Rachel’s emotions were almost unreadable. Even now, it was difficult for him to know what she was thinking.

Since the day she had been openly affectionate and confessed love to him, he had felt both happiness and suspicion. He knew it was selfish of him, but he desired her deeply.

Even after a long while, Rachel’s voice didn’t come from the basement. Was all his worry for nothing?

“Still… something feels off.”

Sren bit his nails, lost in thought. He had shown Adenhar to Rachel to gauge her reaction, yet she hadn’t even flinched. She had only seemed surprised when he had touched her cheek. Sren smiled softly as he gently touched the spot where her hand had been.

“Yes… stay like this. Never leave me.”

Although he still couldn’t completely relax, it had been a pleasant day. Sren finally moved again, a deep smile on his lips.

I waited for Adenhar to wake, but his injuries were severe, and he couldn’t regain consciousness easily. I promised to return and went back to the main building.

It was raining outside again. Perhaps because it was like a horror game, sunny days were rare. I suddenly wondered what the outside world looked like.

As I thought about that, I felt a pang of sadness. I’d been preoccupied with this ever since meeting Phantom.

“What was my name… in the original world?”

I clearly remembered it when I first possessed Rachel. But after the third death… my memory had started to fade. This was a serious problem.

Was I slowly merging with the persona of Rachel Famignon? If Phantom was right, it wasn’t death that scared me—it was losing my original self.

“I’m scared.”

What happens if I’m no longer myself?

Phantom had said that Sren chose me because I fit his criteria.

Right… before I possessed Rachel, I heard his voice in my younger brother’s room. When I regained consciousness, I had become Rachel, and my life as her began.

“Am I just a sacrifice?”

Then what about the players’ stories? Phantom’s tale was missing critical parts, which I had to figure out myself. I sighed deeply.

Ring. Ring.

The phone rang. I stopped automatically.

Was there a phone here?

I ran toward the sound. It seemed to be Sren’s study. A neatly arranged desk, papers stacked on it—clearly a place where he worked.

Ring. Ring.

A vintage, antique-style phone was ringing. I picked it up quickly.

“Hello?”
―…

But nothing came through.

Click. Click—

The call ended immediately.

“What the heck?”

Still, the presence of a phone meant communication with the outside world was possible. I didn’t know how phone numbers worked in this world, but finding one was meaningful. It might be useful later.

Then a thought struck me. Could this… actually work?

Curious, I began dialing one number at a time, like in dramas. The person I was calling was my younger brother. I didn’t expect it to connect, or for him to answer. I just wanted to try.

Rrrring. Rrrring—

Incredibly, the call connected.

“Hello?”

My younger brother, Park Kanghyun’s voice, came through the phone. Hearing him after so long, I froze. My heart raced wildly.