Episode 09
The person who spoke to me was a woman.
She had pale blue hair with faint pigmentation, sharp eyes, and gray irises. Her expression was prim and aloof, and the moment our eyes met, she frowned slightly and blurted out—
“You’re stunningly beautiful.”
…Was that really something to say with such a sour expression?
Still, she quickly smoothed her face and extended a hand toward me for a handshake.
“I came to hand over the keys. Vanilla Eddy Ruskin. I’m the owner of the estate.”
She looked cold enough to freeze the world, yet her name was unexpectedly soft.
She barely appeared in the novel—only in passing—so even I didn’t know much about her.
I rose from my seat and took her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Ruskin. You’ve received the sales contract, correct? Then as of today, I suppose I’m the owner of the estate.”
As I shook hands with Vanilla, Eden suddenly spoke up.
“The mansion on the hill? You bought that abandoned place? Why would a Sinclair heiress want something like that?”
Startled, I turned to him.
“Shh. Keep your voice down. Do you think I’m going around advertising that I’m Cherry Sinclair?”
“Would that be a problem?”
It wouldn’t be a problem, exactly—just annoying if people found out!
While I whispered furiously at Eden, Vanilla let out a deep sigh and spoke to me.
“I already know you’re Cherry Sinclair. It was written clearly on the sales contract. And I don’t care who you are. The only thing I care about is money.”
Her blunt reassurance somehow made me feel awkward.
Right. Of course my name was on the contract.
Just then, Eden—who had been quietly listening—pointed at Vanilla’s waist.
Something was hanging there.
“What’s that?”
“Birds.”
…Birds?
Only then did I notice two birds hanging upside down from her belt. Beside them was a holster holding a hunting shotgun.
How had I missed something that conspicuous until now?
“The village chief asked me to hunt a few. The pay’s pretty decent.”
…Now I finally understood how Vanilla had managed to survive alone for half a year in the novel.
It wasn’t just because the mansion’s defenses were good.
For some reason, I suddenly felt like recruiting her for the shelter I was planning to build.
“Here. The keys.”
She placed the keys into my hand, then added a final warning.
“Brunel is a backwater village, and as you’ve seen, the mansion is extremely isolated. The repair costs alone will be astronomical. It’s in my name, but I only inherited it because of my father—I told you in advance that I absolutely don’t recommend buying it. You went through with the purchase anyway. That was your choice, Ms. Sinclair.”
Was this how Eden had felt earlier?
I nodded stiffly, overwhelmed by the flood of words. Vanilla continued, her expression cold and unchanged.
“I’ll be staying in this village for a while. Call me if you need anything. Just know that I charge for dispatch.”
She adjusted her monocle and spoke with solemn resolve.
Dispatch fees?
“No discounts just because you’re pretty and cute, Ms. Sinclair.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Vanilla handed me the mansion’s blueprints as well. I unfolded them briefly—then grabbed her as she turned away.
“Wait, Ms. Ruskin.”
“Yes?”
Despite her reply, she pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time. She clearly hated wasting it.
“Is there anything unusual about the mansion? Any hidden facilities—something suitable for self-sufficient living?”
She looked at me like I’d asked something ridiculous.
But in the novel, she had clearly said, “This mansion is special. It’s optimized for survival.”
“Well… the garden’s good for a vegetable patch, and there’s a well, so drawing water isn’t difficult. Other than that, I don’t know much. I manage too many estates.”
I studied her expression closely, but she genuinely seemed unaware.
Disappointed, I sighed inwardly.
Maybe location and self-sufficiency were the mansion’s only advantages.
Calling it “self-sufficient” was generous anyway—you needed actual survival skills to make that work.
After seeing Vanilla off, I left the restaurant and headed toward the hill on the outskirts of town where the mansion stood.
Eden followed me the entire way.
I stopped midway up the hill and turned around.
The man in a pristine police uniform strolled up leisurely, hands in his pockets.
“Why do you keep following me?”
Eden halted, glanced around, then removed his hands from his pockets and stroked his chin while looking past me at the mansion.
“It’s extremely secluded. Perfect place to smuggle and store firearms. Also ideal for embezzling funds and going into hiding. Ah—just thinking out loud.”
He smiled casually.
Firearms? Embezzlement? What was he even talking about?
Was this because of the loan I’d taken out?
“I have no idea what you’re implying. You seem awfully interested in the mansion. If you’re that curious, why don’t you just take a look—”
I trailed off abruptly.
Wait. He said firearms. Illegal ones.
Eden wasn’t the type to say pointless things.
“…Fine. What kind of weapons do you want? I’ll arrange an instructor to teach you how to use them.”
“Swords, crossbows, axes. Every type. All of them! But Harrison, we don’t need an instructor—”
“Miss. That’s non-negotiable.”
Every type.
Only then did I realize—if I told Harrison to send “every type,” he’d probably send every firearm known to mankind.
Damn it.
“It seems you don’t want me to inspect the mansion.”
Eden said quietly, watching me hesitate.
There were countless reasons why he couldn’t step inside.
And just as many reasons I shouldn’t get involved with him.
On top of that, the Sinclair family wasn’t exactly clean. I had plenty to feel guilty about.
I couldn’t go to prison before the apocalypse even started.
“O–Of course not! It’s inappropriate for an unrelated man to enter a woman’s home!”
“I’m not an unrelated man. I’m a police officer—”
“Aren’t police officers still men?”
“Well… yes, but how did the conversation jump there—”
“Without a warrant, all men are unrelated men and beasts!”
“…Beasts? Excuse me?”
Eden stared at me in disbelief.
I placed my hands proudly on my hips.
“Therefore, if you follow me, you’re a beast.”
“That logic makes no sense.”
“Oh? Take one more step and you’ll regret it.”
His stunned expression was priceless.
While he stood there dumbfounded, I bolted up the hill.
I unlocked the mansion gate, rushed inside, slammed it shut, and secured the latch tightly.
Only then did I let out a long breath.
I should probably call Harrison in the capital.
* * *
No matter how thoroughly I searched the mansion, there were no firearms.
Naturally. It hadn’t been long since I’d bought the place—no way Harrison had already sent anything.
Still, I wanted to call him just in case.
Unfortunately, the only telephone in this tiny village was at the police station.
Please tell me I won’t run into Eden again…
I stood in front of the station, hesitating for a long time.
Going all the way to Kintney to find another phone would be a hassle.
Fine. I’ll just go in.
Praying Eden was out on patrol, I cautiously opened the door—
And froze.
A man in tattered clothes was sprawled on the floor.
Eden was sitting on his back.
Casually drinking milk.
The police jacket was nowhere to be seen. His white shirt was unbuttoned—no, torn—open at the top.
“Khh…”
The man beneath him groaned.
Eden drained the milk in one gulp, then placed the empty glass on the man’s head.
“If you drop this and it breaks, you’re dead.”
Then he looked up at me.
“You pushed me away so coldly earlier. What brings you here now?”
