Chapter 11
He’s a Villain, But Also a Bunny (6)
Ileina suppressed her dismay and quickly began calculating. The moment crisis hit, her previously foggy mind kicked back into high gear.
First of all, these people hadn’t yet realized they’d been scammed in a secondhand deal.
If they found out that she couldn’t actually control the weather like a real Saintess—or that she had no memory of being Ileina the Saintess—they might do something dangerous.
“Remember, the original male lead. Don’t forget the electric torture.”
The Black King frowned slightly as he watched her composed demeanor.
“How exactly does this weather-controlling ability work? Why is it affected by emotion?”
Ileina didn’t answer immediately. She calmly sipped her tea.
As the silence stretched, the Black King, who had been leisurely leaning on the sofa, straightened up and rested his elbow on his knee, propping up his chin.
That posture—leaning in—was a sign of impatience. It also meant he wanted more information.
Ileina had once been the third-generation heir of a powerful chaebol, effectively running a major company from behind the scenes.
“I’ve never lost in an information war like this.”
She’d worked herself to burnout—now it was time to show the negotiation skills of a true K-chaebol heir.
“First rule: never show all your cards.”
Feigning composure, she took another casual sip of tea.
That only seemed to confirm to the Black King that she was hiding something. His expression grew even colder.
“We paid an enormous price—an entire mine—to bring you here. …I assume you don’t want torture or coercion either.”
He growled the words out.
“I’m trying to find a compromise here.”
Now she understood why people called this man the Black Leopard of the Desert.
There was a bone-deep chill to his aura, like coming face to face with a wild predator.
His presence was overwhelming.
“Well, there’s a reason the abnormal weather started in the first place. Why don’t you start by thinking about that?”
Ileina responded in her usual expressionless, monotone voice.
She deliberately used vague, layered wording—hinting that she knew something.
“Even though I know jack shit.”
She calmly took another sip of tea.
The fact that it started ten years ago meant it had come about suddenly, out of nowhere.
They probably had their own theories about why.
Basically, she was taking a wild guess.
Sure enough, both the Black King and Andre looked taken aback.
Especially Andre, who couldn’t hide his expression—his face clearly showed guilt.
“Was the abnormal weather truly divine punishment for mankind’s original sin?”
The Black King said, looking conflicted.
“Gotcha.”
Ileina grinned inwardly.
Outwardly, her expression remained perfectly blank.
She then adopted a mock-serious tone and said solemnly:
“That’s right. I am a messenger of the gods, sent to this land. And you’re threatening someone like me? Think carefully. What was the world like when the strange weather began?”
As she said that, she deliberately held out her empty teacup to Andre.
“You’re right, truly.”
Andre, as he refilled her cup, naturally joined in the conversation.
“The eternal snow that had existed since the formation of the island… it melted. According to legend, that snow was the sign of God’s promise never to punish this land again with fire and brimstone.”
“…That’s right. It was the eternal snow… wasn’t it?”
Eternal snow?
There was only one mountain high enough to have eternal snow in this tropical island.
A single, towering peak that could be seen from anywhere on the island.
Her divine-level guess had hit the mark once again.
Andre set down the teapot and nodded innocently.
“Yes, of course. Mount Aufus—the sacred mountain. It’s where Jake, the island’s first human, offered a burnt sacrifice.”
“Ah, yes. That place.”
Ileina nodded shamelessly.
“She’s a natural-born fox, that one.”
Suddenly, her eldest brother’s mocking words—spoken every time he lost to her in business negotiations—popped into her head.
Andre, unaware of any of this, sighed deeply with an unusually serious expression.
“In the past, no matter how hot it got, the snow on that mountain would never melt. It was incredibly beautiful.”
Alright, let’s organize what she knew so far.
On the outside, Ileina didn’t flinch, but internally, her mind was spinning like crazy.
About ten years ago, the eternal snow on the island’s sacred mountain melted, and strange weather began to occur.
The northern region, thanks to the Saintess (Ileina), was spared from disasters caused by the climate shift, and even went to war.
For some reason, the people of the island believed all of this was divine punishment.
And so, they called her the Saintess?
“Why the hell wasn’t this info in the original story?”
At this point, she would’ve preferred to reincarnate without even reading the book.
Just then—
“But how long must this go on?”
The Black King spoke in a tormented voice.
Startled, Ileina looked up at him.
“It’s been ten years. Not a single drop of rain has fallen in this land for ten years. When will God’s wrath end?”
He leaned back heavily into the sofa, his face etched with deep fatigue.
“So many people are suffering. Too many…”
For a moment, this man—this black panther of a man—looked genuinely worn out.
“…Almost as much as I was in my past life.”
“The weather definitely responds to my emotions.”
Ileina suddenly spoke up.
It was the one thing she knew for sure—explicitly stated in the original story.
Back in the north, it had at least drizzled sometimes, but ever since coming here, only dark clouds had loomed. That was probably because her depression had slightly improved.
“Then you’re saying… you’re deliberately maintaining those black-cloud emotions?”
The Black King scowled.
Half right, half wrong.
She wasn’t doing it on purpose—she just couldn’t control it. But Ileina shut her mouth tight.
She wasn’t about to expose her weaknesses.
Even if these people, this king, were pitiful, she needed to survive first.
He seemed to have a softer side than expected, but that didn’t mean she could trust a villain like him entirely.
“That must be… very hard.”
The Black King murmured.
“Hm? Did I just hear something weird?”
“But if you truly are a messenger of the gods, then why does their blessing only fall upon the North?”
He shot her a sharp glare again.
That same overwhelming pressure.
His thick arms, his hands—she remembered all too well how he’d struck a knight across the face with them.
“No, I must’ve misheard that weird bit earlier.”
Ileina shook her head, brushing away the strange hunch.
As she fell silent again, the Black King’s expression grew icy.
“We’re at the end of our rope. Until now, we’ve treated the Saintess with the utmost respect… but if you continue to remain silent, we’ll be forced to take harsher measures.”
“But… even if you keep asking… I really… don’t know anything…”
Ileina swallowed her tears internally.
She had no information from the original story, and no memories from Ileina’s past.
“I’ve bluffed my way through with words so far, but I’m nearing my limit. What do I do…”
Caught in this cold, tense standoff, just then—
Knock, knock, knock.
A bright knock rang on the office door. Ileina cheered inwardly.
“They call me a Saintess. Maybe God really is on my side.”
She quickly spoke up.
“Looks like someone’s here.”
“Click. Come in!”
The Black King shouted.
Someone came in, staggering under a towering stack of documents.
“How did he even make it to the office like that?”
He must have either x-ray vision or memorized the palace’s layout completely.
Probably the latter. The man muttered to himself, unaware of the guests.
“Your Majesty! The East is trying to raise the water import prices again! Those greedy pigs! They’re swimming in water from floods anyway! Looks like they’re taking advantage of us after hearing we gave up a mine to the North!”
He chattered on like a motor-mouth.
A somewhat familiar voice.
It was the bespectacled official who had snapped at the Black King in the kitchen.
“Was he always like this?”
When standing behind the Black King earlier, he had seemed solemn and serious.
Despite the stack of papers blocking his view, he confidently approached the desk—chatting nonstop like a sparrow.
“Sigh… Now the North is asking for higher silk prices too. All this fuss over one Saintess. Honestly, I didn’t like her pale, emotionless face from the first time I saw her.”
At that, both the Black King and Andre turned to look at her.
Ileina blinked.
“Was that… gossip?”
“Auter.”
The Black King called his name, a bit urgently.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Just a moment? Geez, look at this pile. Frankly, all this work piling up—it’s all the Saintess’ fault. Don’t you agree?”
“This bastard—”
Ileina stared blankly at his back.
Why was everything suddenly her fault? Once someone disliked you, it seemed everything you did annoyed them.
With no space on the desk, he lowered the files to the floor and straightened up.
“Anyway, even if we’re rolling in money from Orichalcum, we can’t give in to all their demands. So—kyahh!”
He jumped in shock with a surprisingly cute shriek.
“….”
“….”
“….”
An awkward silence filled the office.
“…We had guests. I sincerely apologize for my rudeness.”
He spoke with a solemn, serious face.
It didn’t help much after that weird “kyahh~” scream.
“Yes, Auter.”
The Black King awkwardly rubbed his mouth and glanced at Ileina.
“The Saintess doesn’t seem willing to speak further. You may return for now.”
He seemed eager to send her away quickly.
The monocled official also looked awkward, keeping his gaze lowered.
“Well, of course it’s awkward.”
Ileina scoffed inwardly.
“He got caught talking behind my back.”
