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Chapter 38
“So. It’s true that I don’t have any money right now.”
Belakshina let out a small groan at the system’s suspiciously reasonable response, then did her best to persuade it.
“But it’s not like I have no way of getting money. I’ll profit from the deal with Mantova. I’m supposed to receive ten percent ownership of the factory, and Abalkin said I could keep all additional profits from the transaction.”
[Even if you run away from the marriage?]
Hm. Right, there was that issue.
Belakshina immediately changed tactics.
“And that’s not all. There’s a fortune in the Outvayan mausoleum. As long as I get there, I can pay you back easily—with interest.”
[Assuming grave robbers haven’t already emptied it.]
That was also true.
Could the Outvayan mausoleum really still be untouched at this point?
Of course, the place Belakshina meant was a secret chamber, so ordinary grave robbers would never find it. But even so, could anyone confidently say the tomb of the richest man in the world would remain safe when left unguarded?
“Don’t you trust me?”
[That’s the classic line people use when they have nothing else to say.]
“System, just help me this once. I may not look it, but I’m amazing at making money. Seriously, if you just help me a little, I can pay you back no problem.”
[That basically sounds like ‘I’ll win it back gambling.’]
“Hmph.”
At the system tilting its head aside dismissively, Belakshina frowned.
Considering her temper, she had already shown incredible restraint.
“Fine. Got it.”
Belakshina abandoned her pleading attitude and rose from her seat.
[What do you mean, ‘got it’?]
“I understand that you’re useless when I actually need help.”
Her ruby-red eyes gleamed sharply as she continued in a threatening tone.
“If you can’t help me when I need it most, then there’s no reason for me to keep you around. Especially if you turn your back on me when things are hardest.”
[…What exactly are you trying to say?]
The system sensed the conversation taking a dangerous turn and became wary, but it couldn’t stop Belakshina from grabbing the grimoire.
“Oh, nothing. I was just curious.”
Belakshina lifted the book toward the fireplace.
“I wonder whether a book whose contents have lost all meaning still has any use left.”
[What are you doing right now?!]
The system jumped through the air in shock—boing, boing—but it couldn’t stop her. It existed more like an illusion or projection than a physical being, which meant it couldn’t exert any actual force in this world.
[Hey! This won’t help anything! I’m intervening to help Mirinae and her bloodline—you!]
As the system panicked, Belakshina became certain she had found the right pressure point.
As expected, violence really was the best method of communication.
“My, why are you getting so upset? Would there be a problem if the book burned?”
[Hiiieeek! Don’t do it!]
Belakshina hooked her fingertips over the spine and dangled the grimoire above the flames. The system screamed and begged her to stop.
[Fine! Fine, okay?! I’ll let you buy on credit! Just stop, please!]
“Good.”
Belakshina pulled the grimoire back safely into her arms. The system collapsed to the floor as if all strength had left it.
[You… you really are…!]
Its body trembled in shock and horror.
Belakshina’s actions were no different from an innocent natural disaster. What made it worse was that she clearly had no idea what she had almost done.
“You’re so dramatic. Hurry up and give me the credit. Once I escape from here, I’ll pay you back.”
The system slowly raised its head.
[…I need collateral.]
“What?”
[Credit isn’t even part of our manual to begin with. Structurally, it’s impossible to give miracles away without receiving gold coins first. So you’ll have to hand over something valuable to us as security. Later, when you repay the coins, we’ll exchange it back.]
Belakshina understood and nodded.
“Fine. So what kind of collateral do you need?”
[A contract.]
Belakshina frowned.
“Don’t tell me you mean something like a waiver of bodily rights. What is this, the Shadow Brotherhood?”
[Sorry, but it’s similar. Hand me the book.]
The system scampered across the open pages, flipping through several sheets before stopping at one particular page.
Written there were the words:
「Soul Entrustment and Guarantee Contract」
Belakshina’s eyes widened.
“…You’re a demon.”
[Hey! I told you, I’m not a demon!]
“But this is exactly the kind of thing a demon would do! Asking for someone’s soul?!”
[You just have to pay it back, don’t you?! If you repay within the deadline, there’s no problem!]
“Even that sounds incredibly demonic.”
Belakshina felt her wariness spike sharply.
She wasn’t particularly devout, but even she knew perfectly well how followers of the Elampsis faith treated people who made contracts with demons.
[Ugh, whatever. If you don’t want to do it, then forget it. Like I said before, souls aren’t especially useful to us anyway. I only accept it because it’s valuable to you.]
‘So that’s how it is?’
Now that she thought about it, the system had mentioned before that it wasn’t particularly interested in souls.
Maybe there were more acceptable forms of collateral than she had assumed.
Just as Belakshina began wracking her brain for some clever alternative, the system instantly caught on and glared at her.
[And don’t even think about trying anything funny. The only things we recognize as valuable are gold, time, and souls.]
Belakshina immediately latched onto one word.
“Time? You take time too?”
[More precisely, lifespan.]
How incredibly demonic.
Belakshina stared suspiciously at the system as she considered her options.
Lifespan or soul. Which was the safer thing to mortgage?
The system offered advice.
[If it were me, I’d choose the soul.]
“Why? No matter how I think about it, the soul seems more valuable.”
[That may be true, but in this case, the amount of lifespan required depends on the miracle you choose…]
The system’s round eyes delivered a deeply ominous statement.
[…You don’t actually know how much lifespan you have left, do you?]
“…!”
Belakshina’s heart dropped instantly.
That’s right. She had no idea how much time she had left to live.
[What if you can’t repay the debt before your remaining lifespan runs out? Worse—what if you try to mortgage more time than you even possess to begin with?]
“I’d die.”
Belakshina trembled as the danger of the deal truly sank in.
The thought that one wrong choice could kill her on the spot made her legs weaken and her breathing grow shallow.
[So what’ll it be, Belakshina?]
Today, the system’s innocent and cute appearance felt strangely terrifying.
[Soul? Or lifespan?]
At that very moment, Abalkin stood outside Belakshina’s room.
There should have been no one else inside, yet he could hear Belakshina talking to someone. It didn’t sound like muttering to herself. Her voice was too emotional, and there were pauses between lines—as if she were having a conversation.
‘Suspicious.’
When Abalkin leaned closer, the words he heard were:
—“I’d die.”
Abalkin’s eyes widened.
His usually steady heart reacted violently.
This woman was at it again. Again, she was trying to die.
The thought sent blood rushing to his head and blurred his vision.
‘Could it be because of the marriage?’
It was possible.
Belakshina had openly declared more than once that she would rather die than marry Abalkin.
And it wasn’t as if she had never acted recklessly before.
Jumping from a moving carriage. Setting fire to her room in the middle of the night…
Abalkin’s fists clenched.
Unbearable frustration wrapped around him, followed by uncontrollable fury.
No matter how hard he tried to treat her generously, Belakshina rejected him with absolute stubbornness.
Even though she knew perfectly well that she was a slave and inferior to him in every possible way.
‘Despite everything I do… you still choose death.’
At last, all of her strange behavior made sense.
Of course Belakshina had no need to know when the wedding would take place.
Because on that day, she intended not to exist in this world anymore.
“Belakshina Outvayan!”
Abalkin violently threw open the door.
Belakshina turned in shock.
He strode toward her with powerful steps and seized her wrist.
“What are you doing?!”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know why I’m acting like this. I know exactly what you were trying to do.”
Belakshina’s eyes shook.
The unmistakable anxiety in them made Abalkin’s chest ache.
He knew exactly what this feeling was.
Humiliation. And hurt.
“You truly never improve. You’re hopeless, and unworthy of respect.”
“What are you talking about?”
“No. This is how it’s going to be. It’s time you learned exactly who the master is and who the slave is.”
Abalkin turned and locked the door behind him.
So that no one could enter and interfere.
“You need discipline.”
