* * *
Zavad, eyes squeezed shut, finally lowered the hand covering his mouth and muttered.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
“…What?”
What the hell was he saying?
Ranshel blinked at him in confusion.
Zavad clenched his teeth and spoke slowly, his voice trembling with anger.
“You put it in there while bringing it over.”
“……?”
“And then you pretended not to know, picking it up and playing dumb….”
“……?”
“A lowly bastard like you, daring to toy with me…?”
Ranshel stared at him, slack-jawed.
The way Zavad was breathing harshly, looking furious even at his own words, left him speechless.
‘This guy really jumps to conclusions.’
Ranshel opened his mouth to set him straight—but before he could, another notification popped up.
[Contribution has changed.]
Ranshel’s eyes darted to the system window.
[Event Contribution]
[The Most Villainous = 0▷1% ]
His mind worked quickly to process this.
The score that had stubbornly remained at 0% had finally budged.
Zavad was hurt.
He was suffering.
Because of him.
Finally.
‘Why now, of all times?’
Ranshel was momentarily stunned, but he knew exactly how he should respond.
He cleared his throat and carefully chose his words.
Then, with a soft chuckle, he murmured:
“You’ve been acting like a clueless fool this whole time….”
His green eyes gleamed, and his naturally gentle gaze curved into a smile.
“…But at least you’re a little perceptive, huh?”
The moment he finished speaking, he subtly leaned back.
A sharp hand sliced through the air right where his cheek had been.
Zavad, who had just attempted to slap him, clenched his fist and glared at him.
“You… do you…!”
It looked like he was about to explode—but then, suddenly, his energy deflated.
Lowering his gaze, Zavad hesitated before slowly whispering.
“Do you… hate me?”
His voice trembled slightly.
Ranshel’s reply was immediate and indifferent.
“So you thought I liked you all this time?”
He let out a laugh.
“Haven’t I made it obvious? All I ever did was insult you. How could you possibly misunderstand that?”
“…….”
“Or… oh? Wait, do you like being criticized? If you’re already into that kind of thing—”
“No!”
Zavad shouted reflexively, then bit his lip hard.
His fists clenched as he mumbled, slower this time.
“I just… you don’t ignore me….”
“…….”
“You look me in the eye when you talk….”
Ranshel fell silent.
A memory flashed in his mind—Gary’s warning.
—Just avoid eye contact and do your job.
Even if he talks to you, keep your answers short and get out.
…Maybe Ranshel wasn’t the only one who had been told that.
Whether the previous servants had truly tried to kill Zavad was uncertain, but one thing was clear—they had never treated him like a person.
So then, what was Ranshel supposed to say here?
He wasn’t Zavad’s loyal servant.
He was the villainous attendant, Ranshel.
And his role was already decided.
“…Did you forget already, young master? I’m only here for the money.”
“…….”
“You have a reputation for being difficult, so they pay extra. And since you keep pulling weird stunts to get attention, they even threw in a little extra to keep you entertained.”
“…….”
Otherwise, why would I waste my time dealing with you? It’s a hassle.
Ranshel made sure to say every last word with perfect nonchalance.
Zavad kept his lips tightly shut and just sat there.
Then, he slowly got up, sat on the chair, and curled up, wrapping his arms around his legs.
It was the same position he had been in before.
The silence in the room remained unbroken until the evening bell rang and the attendant entered.
The first day’s work inspection passed without incident.
The command to simply maintain cleanliness wasn’t just empty words—the attendant seemed satisfied just from seeing the rag covered in thick black dust.
“They don’t even check if he’s been fed…”
Ranshel trudged down the stairs, but midway, he sank down onto the landing.
What kind of kid holds out so stubbornly without even crying?
Clenching his fists so tightly they might break, gritting his teeth…
Ranshel grabbed his throbbing head and let out a long, heavy sigh.
Tomorrow, his body would surely be aching.
He needed to finish what had to be done and get some rest.
Dragging his unresponsive legs, he made his way downstairs.
“Gary, wake up.”
“……”
“Gary?”
“……”
“Guess I have no choice but to slap you awake—”
“I’m up!”
Pretending to sleep, Gary covered his face with his arms and sat up.
Ranshel tugged insistently at his collar, urging him outside.
Conscious of the other sleeping servants, Gary had no choice but to silently follow.
“Why are you dragging me out at this hour?”
“I forgot where the bathroom is.”
“……So?”
“Take me there.”
“Why should I?”
“Because if I can’t find it, I’m going to piss in your bed.”
“…You’re joking, right?”
“If you’re curious, go lie down and find out.”
One glance at Ranshel’s expressionless face, and Gary sighed before trudging ahead.
He must have decided it was best to just guide Ranshel quickly and go back to sleep.
They walked through the dimly lit hallway, relying on the faint glow of a single candle.
The silence was heavy, with only their footsteps echoing—so perfectly in sync it sounded like just one person walking.
“Why do you keep looking back?”
“Just checking if you’re actually following me. You walk way too quietly.”
“Only an idiot stomps around at this hour. But seriously, why is the bathroom so damn far? Did you get lost?”
“A-Ah, no! We’re almost there. It’s just ahead.”
Gary pointed to the end of the hallway, where a faint moonlight filtered in through a window.
Ranshel peeked into the open doorway and refused the candle Gary offered.
“You hold onto that.”
“It’s going to be pitch dark in there without it. What if you ruin your clothes? Your shirt’s already torn, you know.”
“Appreciate the concern, but my night vision’s decent.”
“No, I just get the feeling that if you run out of clothes, you’ll steal mine.”
Sharp guy. Ranshel smirked in the darkness and pointed a finger beyond the dim hallway.
“So, you’re just going to stand here alone without a light? Got it. Just make sure not to scream if a ghost shows up—you’ll wake everyone.”
“…Just go already.”
Clutching the candleholder like a lifeline, Gary muttered.
Ranshel chuckled, stepped into the bathroom, and immediately locked the door.
The small window let in only a sliver of moonlight, nowhere near enough to brighten the space.
Just as Gary had said, it was completely dark inside.
“Perfect.”
Rather than fumbling for the toilet, Ranshel headed straight for the window.
He pushed it open, slipped his hand through the gap, and grasped a long, stiff rope hanging inside.
When he pulled, a muffled scraping sound echoed as something was hoisted up against the wall—a cloth sack.
Undoing the rope securing the sack’s opening, Ranshel reached in and pulled out what lay on top.
A loose-fitting shirt fluttered in the air.
The same one he had worn when he passed the first checkpoint inspection.
When Cha Eunseong had woken up in the carriage’s luggage compartment, the first thing he had done was search for his belongings.
But he had found nothing.
Because back then, he didn’t have Ranshel’s memories.
Spreading the oversized shirt on the floor, Ranshel carefully scratched at a seam sewn on the inside.
The weak adhesive came apart, revealing a hidden pocket.
It was where Ranshel had pulled out the letter of introduction when he passed through the city gates.
The ill-fitting shirt had been prepared to conceal hidden compartments, and the loosely tightened suspenders had been adjusted so that the secret pockets wouldn’t show.
* * *
