ITIWAFRBIAHS Chapter 17

"You're here again."

I forgot to ask where I was being called from and came here after searching around this area for a while, you brat.

"Got a problem?"

My stepbrother snapped back. Still, he doesn't look depressed. He looks lively, which is fortunate. I approached Jeril, who was sitting in front of the huge desk in the study.

My stepbrother hastily covered what he was looking at and asked.

"What…… brings you here?"

"Hmm? I came because you called."

"……What are you talking about."

Jeril turned his head sharply. Why is he acting like this when he's the one who called? He's been even more suspicious since he stood in front of his stepmother earlier—could he be a sub-male after all?

No, let me think about more important things first.

"Look at this once."

Instead of diving straight into the topic about his stepmother, I pulled out the paper with the treasure puzzle content. My strategy: first show him that I trust him enough to share something this valuable—I mean, we're talking potential treasure here! Once I've established that level of trust between us, then I can smoothly transition into asking about his stepmother…!

My stepbrother looked somewhat tense, but unhesitatingly snatched the paper with one hand.

"What is it?"

"This seems to be a puzzle about hidden treasure? Could there be a place in this mansion that matches this content…… Hey, hey!!"

Crazy, why are you throwing it! I was shocked watching Jeril crumple up the paper right after unfolding it and throw it away. He even threw it out the window?!

"Hey, if you don't want to look for it, just say so, why……."

"Don't even think about looking for it!"

Jeril shouted while clenching both fists so tightly they turned white. My stepbrother, who had kicked the desk and stood up, slammed the window shut as if the thrown paper might chase after him. Then he muttered as if sobbing.

"In this mansion… don't try to find anything in this mansion…"

Why is he acting like this again? As I thought, he was pretending to be fine but the shock of his stepmother being taken away was great. The scene of his stepmother desperately trying to find some evidence in the study is so stuck in his mind that he has an aversion to the act of trying to find anything in this mansion itself…….

"Do you know why I don't eat meat here?"

Ah, no. But I was curious about that too. Is there some special reason? Actually, I was just trying to hastily whip up a romance novel character analysis…

"In this mansion… here…"

Jeril sat back down heavily. The hands that had been tightly clenched somehow covered his entire face as if hiding it. Huk. The reaction is too extreme—could there really be some serious problem? I tried to examine Jeril's complexion with worry.

Could this mansion itself have been uncomfortable? Hmm, it's possible. Five years ago would have been during his sensitive adolescent period when his living environment suddenly changed and he started living with a peer of the opposite sex.

Plus, this body's father, who was the actual owner of this mansion, also died suddenly. No matter how his stepmother won the lawsuit as my guardian, from Jeril's perspective, staying here in what seemed like freeloading would have been uncomfortable in the first place.

And he didn't even go to school and was alone in this mansion—it's completely understandable that he would get sick of the mansion.

Jeril seemed to be breathing slowly. Should I pat his back or something? I got up awkwardly, but suddenly Jeril took a big breath. It was so loud I could hear the air going in.

"I, I……."

"Uh-huh."

Let me respond appropriately so he can open up comfortably.

"After coming here…… I keep having dreams. Some man……."

A man? Could it be this body's father who remarried? Or maybe Jeril's biological father? But Jeril kept stumbling while trying to continue and failed. Eventually, he seemed to give up on continuing the sentence itself and let it trail off.

"……."

A long silence flowed. I didn't rush him and waited quietly.

My stepbrother muttered low and slowly while looking at the floor.

"Under this mansion…… there's something."

"Hmm?"

What is this sudden talk about? He's not suddenly returning to the treasure story, is he?

Work Rules

16. Successfully deleted.
17. Do not attempt to find out the content of work rule number 16.

Jeril couldn't bring himself to look at Rose's face. But even without looking, he could tell. Rose was surely wearing a puzzled and worried expression.

The stepsister who had lived as if neither existed, not even making eye contact, had changed her attitude about two weeks ago. Whether she had given up on everything in resignation, or if she had really gone insane, was unclear.

But one thing was certain. Eventually, that child too had instinctively sensed something indescribably horrific. She had felt it with her skin. So for escape, whether through madness or infantile regression, she had become like those innocent children of her age who had experienced nothing.

'I wish I could do that too.'

Jeril caught his breath. And he recalled the first day he came to this place.

The first day when this enormous mansion's grand gate had appeared elegant and beautiful. His mother, who had always been plagued by nightmares, fell into deep sleep. His immature mind found relief in that alone. The new father with his eerie gaze and the quiet sister, the gloomy servants and the sinister air of the great mansion—it was a day so breathless with tension that none of these things could even be felt.

The next day, and the next day……. Childhood flowing like water.

The discord happened slowly.

At first, it was whispers. Echoing murmurs heard from afar.

'It begins.'

It was a slow, sticky voice.

'It is restored.'

His mother gripped her own arm painfully tight and said it was just a hallucination, not actually audible. That evening, Jeril's bedroom was filled with his stepsister's dresses.

What had been an echo soon became close enough to feel breath. When lying in bed, it whispered slowly in his ear. That clear, vivid voice.

'It arrives.'

Until then, it was still bearable.

'The great lord's territory.'

Because it was only sound. Because he didn't know where the sound was coming from.

'Soon.'

'Pulsating.'

'Soon.'

'From below.'

'Soon.'

'Crawling up.'

The very first 'mouth' sprouted on well-cooked tenderloin. A mouth sprouting on the glossy brown meat, opening and closing. Yellow teeth visible between the dried, cracked dark red lips.

And before being served at the table, mouths appeared on what had been large in life, in order. Not animal muzzles, but mouths.

Dead flesh that had once been part of something living sprouted mouths and gaped. The mouth shapes were all different. A mouth with an alluringly red tongue, a small mouth with only four baby teeth, a shabby mouth with sparse missing teeth.

Flesh.

Meat.

"Meat" is a word designed to function for eating. Chunks of flesh cut to suit human consumption. Before being shaped into that form…… no, there's no need to go that far.

If you strip away the elegant and pleasant concept of 'dining,' if you examine the phenomenon with cold eyes, what is meat, ultimately? ……Can humans become meat too?

Jeril gradually stopped putting utensils to meat. From cattle to small quail, all flesh was covered with mouths.

None of this happened suddenly. Like a frog in cold water being slowly boiled over a hearth fire, the mansion slowly changed its appearance.

Eventually, when the boy reached an age where he could make rational judgments, this mansion was already filled with evil whispers.

"……."

He didn't know if it was actually possible, but anyway, the boy had barely been preparing to escape. And he wanted to try right now. But he had an uneasy premonition.

His sister was on his mind. If he left like this, he felt like 'that was the last time he saw his sister' would become the final sentence of Jeril's recollections of Rose. He couldn't just ignore her and run away.

That was the only driving force that made Jeril open his mouth. So the boy risked danger and tried to speak as specifically as possible for the minimum warning.

"…In this mansion, people, people cannot do certain things that… are happening."

But, but…

What are those staring eyes over there?