Chapter 43
“What? A spoon?”
“Yeah. Not even a golden one — just some old, rusty spoon that crazy old man treasured like it was holy. Totally lost his mind.”
“Do you know what happened to it?”
“No idea. The loan sharks probably took all the metal dishes too. Even if they didn’t, who’d keep something that worthless? If it’s still around, it’s probably in terrible shape.”
He’d once considered finding that so-called heirloom just to sell it.
But after searching everywhere and finding nothing, he decided believing the babbling of a senile old man was a waste of time.
Scar rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, nothing. Any other information?”
“Well, he did say one thing: only the rightful heir of the Dante name can use it. In other words, it recognizes blood.”
“I see… So if an outsider wanted to use it, the only way would be to marry into the family.”
“Yeah, but it’s all just old legend.”
“I like legends. They sound like the kind of stories that make miracles happen.”
Scar smiled — the kind of smile that looked like it had been drawn on a painting rather than coming from a real person.
***
The night was long. I couldn’t sleep at all, terrified that Bari’s heart might stop at any moment.
When morning finally came, the doctor examined her.
“Her condition is terrible.”
“She’s getting worse?”
“Oh, no, no. I mean, she’s gone from horribly terrible to still terrible. That’s an improvement.”
…If this weren’t the only decent doctor in the territory, I’d have punched him right then and there.
He sighed dramatically. “I’m not great at making medicine, but it’s amazing she’s recovering this fast.”
“Tangent, call Catherine. We’re spilling blood today.”
“Ah, please, let me finish first! I mean her condition has drastically improved. At this rate, she’ll be back to full health in a month.”
The doctor smiled proudly.
“It’s like a miracle. As if fate itself told this child, ‘Live.’”
“Oh, wonderful. How touching.”
After he left, I pulled the spoon from my pocket — and before I even said anything, it started trembling violently.
“What did you do?!”
<Wh-what do you mean, what did I do?>
“Don’t play dumb! You obviously did something! Confess, you crazy old man!”
<‘Crazy old man’? That’s rude! I didn’t do much! I just… might’ve… redirected a few of your saved points—no, I mean, used them responsibly!>
“I was wondering who my father took after. Guess I found the answer! Those were my hard-earned savings, and you used them without permission?!”
It had taken forever to collect those “frugality points,” like sewing buttons on dolls for pocket change.
When I bent the spoon in anger, the spirit inside screamed.
<Ow-ow-ow! Okay, okay, I’m sorry! But what was I supposed to do? She’s my bloodline! How could I watch her die when I could change her fate?>
“Wow, you’re getting bold now?”
<N-no, I’m sorry, really!>
I sighed heavily.
“…Fine. You did good. You really did.”
<Don’t be sarcastic! Just insult me properly; it hurts less!>
“I’m not being sarcastic. You saved her. Spending some points is better than letting her die.”
<Oh… my sweet granddaughter… You really are the best granddaughter ever… I thought you were a demon, but you’re an angel after all.>
“Depends on how you behave. Keep testing me and you’ll see the demon again, got it?”
<Got it! Absolutely!>
The old man’s spirit trembled and nodded like a wet puppy. Poor thing — he really thought I was going to toss him into a fire this time.
Anyway, he’s lucky his granddaughter has mercy. Without that, he’d be scrap metal.
Later that morning, Bar came running in, full of excitement. He told me everything his father had said — about where the mole crest was hidden, and how Gillian planned to sneak into the main mansion soon.
“So the crest is under the floorboards in his office?”
“Yeah! I’m sure of it!”
Bar nodded eagerly.
We both crouched down, examining the floor. Several planks were a different color, patched hastily during repairs. I immediately called for a repairman and the mercenary captain.
“Rip that up.”
“This one?”
“Yes.”
The repairman scratched his head, confused, but started prying it open. Catherine leaned closer and muttered,
“So… why am I here?”
“In case cockroaches crawl out. You kill them.”
“Ew! Why would we kill cockroaches? They’re living creatures too!”
“How do you even run a mercenary crew with logic like that?”
“Humans can die. Animals and bugs shouldn’t.”
Yeah. Catherine was definitely insane. She’d be the first to go when I started cleaning house.
“Milady! It’s open!”
“But this looks… strange…”
“What, some kind of trap?”
“Not exactly—”
I didn’t hear the rest. My heart was racing.
Hehehe… the crest is mine!
And then—
“Wait, what the—?”
There was… a face.
A human face staring back at me from under the floorboards.
Was that the mole crest? Did it turn into a person or something?
“Huh? L-Lady Eileen?!”
Oh. Never mind. I recognized him — one of the estate cooks.
He looked at me like he’d just seen a ghost.
“Wh-why are you down there, my lady?!”
“Uh… well…”
“G-ghost! You’re a ghost!”
I almost denied it — but then stopped.
Technically, I was a ghost, wasn’t I? I did possess someone’s body, after all.
“Uh… maybe?”
“My grandma said — if a ghost admits it’s a ghost, it’s a real ghost!”
“Hey, calm down! Weren’t you just cooking? Take a breath—”
Before I could finish, the cook’s elbow knocked over a frying pan.
Oil splattered everywhere — and the next second, a spark hit.
Fire roared up, turning everything black and red.
“Fire! Fire! Put it out!”
“Water! Get some water!”
“Are you insane?! It’s oil! Don’t pour water! Use—use mayonnaise! Do we have mayonnaise?!”
“What’s happening here?!”
Catherine saw the chaos and bolted downstairs. The entire kitchen was engulfed in flames — and so was my heart.
Damn it. I’d spent six hundred gold fixing the main mansion, and now it was burning down again?!
Tsk, tsk, tsk, the spoon tutted inside my pocket.
<Well, that’s unfortunate… You know this means deduction from your savings points, right?>
“Come on, give me a break…”
<Sorry, granddaughter, but rules are rules! And really, who sticks their head into open floorboards like that? Grace and dignity don’t feed you, but there’s a reason nobles pay for etiquette! Tsk tsk—YEEEOW!>
“Die, you useless talking Tinkerbell!”
I hurled the spoon straight into the fire.
Everything went black.
It felt like a dream — one from childhood. My whole family was at the beach, and I accidentally set fire to a newspaper while lighting fireworks.
Everyone gave me that icy look of death.
“Why can’t you just play nicely for once?”
And my mother’s verdict: “You’re going to wet the bed tonight. Go get some salt.”
Why was I dreaming of that now? Probably because of today’s disaster.
When I woke up, my head was pounding. Catherine’s face was right in front of mine.
“Ugh… my head hurts…”
“Marquis, are you alright?”
“No. I feel like I died.”
“You really scared me, collapsing like that. Did you inhale too much smoke?”
“Maybe. I don’t even know.”
“You’re so fragile. Like a snowman made five minutes ago.”
Catherine helped me sit up — using exactly two fingers, as if I might crumble to dust.
“I’m not made of glass. You can actually hold me, you know.”
“You fainted from a little smoke.”
“I’m not weak.”
“People who faint are weak. Like soft noodles.”
“Fine. I’m the noodle princess, then.”
I held my head, exhausted. I hadn’t slept at all because Gillian had been camping outside protesting all night. Add smoke inhalation on top of that — no wonder my body gave out.
Why did I even breathe that smoke in the first place again? Oh, right…
“The mole crest! Where is it?”
“This can’t be… I swear I didn’t lie!”
Bar’s panicked voice made me look around. His face was pale as paper.
“It should’ve been right here!”
“Guess it isn’t.”
“Are you saying Father lied to me?”
“No.”
“Right. Father would never lie. He trusts me.”
“That’s not it. He’s just not smart enough to lie.”
I tapped my temple.
“So that means… the real question is—where did the crest actually go?”
