Chapter 4
“That’s the biggest problem.”
My mood dropped instantly.
From the moment I woke up in Liliata Hayes’s body, I could naturally speak the language of this world—but I couldn’t read or write at all.
The only thing I could write was my name: Liliata Hayes.
If you thought about it, it made sense. Liliata was originally a serf—there was no way she had ever properly learned to read or write.
Even among the maids at the lord’s mansion, only the head maid was literate.
They said she kept her position despite being abusive and corrupt because she could read and write.
Of course. If you’re in charge of others, being illiterate would be inconvenient.
I had tried to get on her good side to learn, but it failed.
She hated me for being favored by Priscilla.
I finally got my hands on a free delivery system, and I can’t even use it.
It was honestly depressing.
I set aside the magic paper and opened the small notebook that came with it.
It contained work instructions.
- Never open the front door before dawn.
On the next page, beside the first rule, there were several messy scribbles.
- If you run into someone before then, leave immediately!
└ Even if they speak to you, never respond! Never!!
└ What is that water sound? I don’t dare check, so I’m pretending not to notice.
└ I saw it. I saw it. It’s definitely not human!
└ Water sound? There’s no pond in the mansion, though? What did they even see?
Each line had a different handwriting style.
So many exclamation marks and question marks…
It seemed like past servants had added their own notes and warnings.
The next page was similar.
- Do not move or damage any items in the mansion.
- Never move the bathtub!
└ Same here… every evening feels like hell.
└ Even worse than night is the evening.
└ If you want to live, run to the kitchen! But only if there’s food prepared there!
- There is no butler managing this mansion.
- Never follow the butler’s instructions! I lost both my ears in two days.
└ I met him too. A butler named Eren! He’s not human.
└ Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled. Don’t be fooled.
“What is this? They wrote the same thing nine times. It must be really important.”
As I ran my hand over the writing, a reddish powder smeared onto my fingers.
Is this a spice?
Ugh. Couldn’t they at least wash their hands?
I shook the notebook off.
It had all kinds of brown stains too—probably from passing through many servants’ hands.
Pinching the edge of the notebook with my fingers, I set it down on the desk.
“Forget dirty—it’s completely unreadable.”
I could recognize numbers, exclamation points, and question marks, since they were the same as in Korea, but the actual content was impossible for me to read.
“Well… I guess I’ll have to figure things out the hard way.”
The first place I went was the kitchen.
“There’s nothing here.”
I needed to prepare breakfast right away, but all I could find were some oil and a bit of flour.
Why is the kitchen like this? What have they been eating all this time?
Eren had said the young master had been seriously ill and needed long-term care.
But looking at this, it seemed he hadn’t even been given proper meals.
I thought he was a good person…
Old butlers in this world really weren’t trustworthy.
No matter how noble the young master was, if the servant was bad, he would suffer like this.
“I need so many things right now… what do I do?”
I stared at the magic paper and pen I had brought from the study.
The young master must be able to write, right?
It seemed best to explain the situation and ask for help.
He’ll probably get angry, but I have no choice.
Since they were already struggling to hire staff, persuading him properly would be best for both of us.
Before going to meet him, I recalled what Eren had told me.
“The most important priority is the young master’s recovery.”
“The young master enjoys a light snack at night. After sunset, prepare a simple dessert in the kitchen and bring it to the second floor. He hates anything unclean, so make sure to bathe before seeing him.”
I lowered my gaze.
My clothes were completely torn and dirty.
The young master was already sick—and apparently a germaphobe too—so cleanliness was essential.
I headed to the bathroom.
“Huh? Why is the bathtub placed like this?”
I dragged the bathtub closer to the water source.
First, I needed to wash up. Then I would meet the young master and ask for help.
The real problem came after that.
I don’t have any clothes.
Only after bathing did I realize I had brought no belongings with me.
I searched the wardrobe, hoping someone had left clothes behind—but all I found was a neatly packaged bathrobe.
Why…?
Q: On my first day at work, I didn’t have any clothes, so I wore a bathrobe to meet my boss. I wasn’t late, so it should be fine, right?
A: Please tell me you’re joking.
I felt like I had become the main character of some ridiculous workplace horror story.
I never imagined my first day would be this hopeless.
Still… it’s better than wearing torn clothes, right…?
While Liliata was on the verge of tears, the notebook on the desk suddenly flipped open by itself.
The pages turned on their own until one stained with dark brown marks was revealed.
- Never wake the young master on the second floor.
- If you wake him, never look him directly in the eyes.
└ No blood! No blood! Absolutely no blood!!
└ If you meet him at night, beg for your life! If you offer a price, you can survive!
└ Young master, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
The page was covered with handprints.
The pages kept flipping after that.
Thud.
“Ugh… it’s cold.”
Liliata closed the window she had left open.
Hm? Did I leave the notebook open?
She glanced at it while passing by.
“Oh, it must’ve been the wind.”
I casually closed the notebook.
“Let’s stay strong. If I survive today, things will be easier starting tomorrow.”
Just today. I just have to endure today—
Should I just wear my old clothes?
The torn fabric looked even worse now.
No. Don’t cling to the past. Those were the clothes tied to Joffrey—bad luck.
Yes, everything is Joffrey’s fault.
As I dried my hair, pulled the robe’s collar up as high as possible, and tightened the belt, I muttered to myself,
“I’m an ignorant, poor serf. I know nothing. I feel no shame. My mind is full of flowers.”
My survival was on the line—who cared about dignity?
As I climbed the stairs to the second floor, I kept chanting it like a curse.
A simple suggestion wasn’t enough to numb my mind.
This had to be a curse. One strong enough to completely shut off my thoughts.
The staircase that had seemed long earlier now felt short—I was already on the second floor.
At a glance, I knew which room belonged to the young master.
Unlike the other simple doors, this one had a jeweled handle.
My mind is full of flowers.
Repeating my desperate “curse,” I knocked on the closed door.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Young master, have you awakened?”
No response.
Is he still asleep?
I knocked again.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Young master, I’ve come to greet you. I’m the newly hired maid.”
Then I heard movement from inside.
He’s awake!
Feeling relieved, I knocked again.
Knock, knock, knock.
“My name is Liliata Hayes, the new maid assigned to this mansion.”
Then a hoarse voice came from inside.
“Who… did you say you were?”
At that moment, a strange discomfort washed over me, and a sharp ringing filled my ears.
Did water get into my ear while bathing?
I tilted my head, trying to shake it out.
“Yes, young master. I’m the new maid, Liliata Hayes.”
I raised my voice, thinking he might not have heard me.
The ringing soon faded.
“The new maid?”
His voice was less hoarse now—young, almost like a teenage boy.
Is the young master younger than I thought?
That realization brought me a bit of relief.
If he’s not an adult… maybe he’ll understand me wearing a bathrobe…
Wait—no! Showing up like this in front of a kid is practically a crime!
I basically looked like some kind of pervert in a trench coat.
If this were South Korea, I’d be arrested for indecency—and if the other person was a minor, it would be even worse.
And in this world, adulthood started at nineteen.
I could literally end up behind bars.
Then the young master spoke.
“Come in and show me your face.”
Standing at the door, caught between modern common sense and desperate survival, I felt cold sweat run down my back.
One door.
One choice.
Would I become a criminal—or not?
