QHIM chapter 51- Fake Ghost

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Tears fell from his eyes as his lower lip trembled.

“Say something. Don’t just stand there… Deny it, tell me I’m wrong, say something!”

Jeanne finally screamed.

Jerome, who had been silently watching him as he gasped for breath, spoke in a gentle tone.

“I can’t deny you. Even your hatred belongs to me. The sandcastle you built as a child, the pain of your bones growing late at night, your ugliest moment, your happiest one…”

“…”

“I’m the only one who can have them.”

Even with a knife in his stomach, Jerome remained unfazed.

The one trembling in fear was Jeanne, the one who had stabbed him.

Slowly, Jerome moved toward him.

As the distance between them closed, Jeanne’s face grew pale.

“This memory will become your worst nightmare. But Jeanne, you can’t wake up.”

His hand, veins bulging, grasped her thin wrist.

He made her stab his stomach once again.

Jeanne’s eyes widened in shock at Jerome’s unexpected action.

Hot blood spilled onto the ground. It took a moment before Jeanne realized what was happening and struggled to drop the knife.

“Don’t do this. Please, Jerome, stop.”

Jerome pressed her shoulders down as she tried to escape.

The more he leaned into her, the deeper the blade sunk into his stomach.

Jeanne, in a daze, muttered to himself.

“What do you want from me?”

Jerome, who had been silent, rested his head on her shoulder.

Jeanne almost wished he would confess his love to him.

He hoped he’d say he couldn’t help it because he loved him too much, offering a weak excuse.

But Jerome didn’t love Jeanne.

He only wanted to possess him.

“Live forever in this nightmare with me.”

Even if that twisted desire ruined the rest of Jeanne’s life.

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As I recalled the original story, my eyes snapped open, and my body froze. Jerome’s empty gaze was fixed on me.

His eyes, filled with the intent to kill, made me swallow dryly.

“Jeanne.”

“…”

“You’ve been awake all along.”

Though Jeanne himself didn’t know, as the original author, I knew the truth.

The real reason Jerome raped Jeanne was due to Mephisto’s mental manipulation.

However, Jerome never bothered to explain that part to Jeanne.

Because of that, Jeanne’s resentment toward him only deepened with each passing day.

Their relationship had become completely twisted, all thanks to Mephisto’s meddling.

If it weren’t for Mephisto, Jerome wouldn’t have raped Jeanne, Jeanne wouldn’t have killed Jerome, and he wouldn’t have turned into a villain, driven mad by the guilt of having killed him.

Knowing the original story, I couldn’t shake the thought that Mephisto was the root of all this misery.

Grinding my teeth, I clenched my fists tightly.

‘Someday, I’ll definitely get rid of you, Mephisto.’

No matter who got in my way, I wouldn’t let anyone ruin my life in this world.

With my resolve set, I grabbed Jerome’s arm and tugged.

“Put me down.”

Maybe it was all the hardship I’d been through, but even to my own ears, my voice sounded hoarse.

Was it because of the rain that kept falling on me?

My body felt chilly.

Strangely enough, Jerome, now much calmer, quietly set me down on the ground.

“If we go just a little further, we’ll be inside,” he said.

His unexpected words made me pause as I was pulling the robe over my head.

I glanced at him with a puzzled expression and asked in a curious tone, “You know this area well?”

“I used to come here often when I was a child.”

“You must’ve come with Carlisle. You two have been friends for a long time.”

Jerome gave a faint smile instead of a reply.

It seemed he hated the idea of admitting it out loud, even if it was true.

Given how easily he’d found Maron’s mana stone and how familiar he seemed with this area, he wasn’t lying.

“So, where are we going?” I asked.

Jerome, who had been walking ahead, suddenly stopped.

He then turned to me, giving me a faint, cryptic smile.

That smile made my body tense up.

“Maron, the great sage, wasn’t as good a magician as people thought. In truth, he was a madman who captured and tortured monsters.”

A strange silence followed.

I sniffled and wrinkled my nose in disgust.

I didn’t want to hear this TMI about Maron, and it naturally made me feel uneasy.

“…How do you know that?”

Suddenly, I wondered how Jerome even knew about Maron’s secret private life.

Jerome casually wrapped his hand around my trembling shoulder, as if it were the most natural thing.

“I told you, I used to come here often when I was younger. This forest was practically my playground. The young Jerome who wandered through the forest until late at night…”

Jerome gently turned my body to the right.

Through the bushes, something faint and pale appeared in my view.

Hidden in the shadows, it was definitely a cabin.

My amazement at the fact that there was a cabin so deep in the forest was short-lived, because Jerome’s next words made my eyes widen in surprise.

“…I found Maron’s secret cabin.”

“…”

“But a kind-hearted young Jerome knew better than to barge into a cabin without permission.”

“Why are you giving me such a long preamble? In the end, you went inside and snooped around, didn’t you? That’s how you know.”

Jerome didn’t answer again.

He grinned slyly and poked my cheek with the hand that was still wrapped around my shoulder.

“So, what does adult Jeanne want to do?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

My curiosity flared up like wildfire, sweeping away any lingering fatigue.

A cabin once lived in by the great sage Maron?

Only a fool would pass by such a treasure. I shot a mischievous grin at Jerome.

“From now on, we’re raiding that house.”

Jerome asked, “What’s ‘raiding’?” but I ignored him and headed toward the cabin.

Maron’s cabin looked as though it hadn’t been maintained for a long time, with parts broken and rusted all over.

As the rain began to fall more heavily, we hurried toward the cabin.

Jerome, leading the way, brushed away the cobwebs.

“Are you sure we can go inside?”

“Yeah, I made sure to leave a caretaker here.”

A caretaker in this creepy cabin?

It sounded too ridiculous to believe.

As soon as we reached the door, Jerome knocked.

“Jerry, it’s me. Open the door.”

For someone who preached about not entering someone else’s cabin without permission, Jerome’s shamelessness at having even left a caretaker was astonishing.

From inside, I heard small footsteps rushing toward the door.

I questioned him urgently.

“Jerry? You didn’t lock someone up in here, did you?”

Jerome met my gaze, smiling sweetly.

For the nth time today, I realized how many things this man conveniently ignored.

A fleeting thought crossed my mind.

‘Am I going to be the next one locked in this cabin after Jerry?’

As I debated whether I should flee right then, the door creaked open, and a small figure peeked out from the crack.

Meow!

The mysterious figure locked eyes with me and jumped in fright.

It turned out to be a ghost cat draped in a white cloth.

The cloth had small holes cut out for the ears and eyes, striking a bizarre balance between adorable and eerie.

‘A ghost?’

The clumsy ghost tripped over its own cloth and fell.

A glimpse of its tail sticking out made my head throb slightly. I tried to smile kindly as I looked at Jerome.

“What in the world is that?”

“Just come inside.”

Still suspicious, I followed him into the cabin.

Contrary to its shabby exterior, the inside had a cozy, charming feel to it.

I couldn’t help but gape at the ornate wreaths decorating the walls.

The flowers, fully in bloom, seemed to have been crafted by the ghost itself.

As I walked, I turned my head quickly.

The ghost, who had been trailing behind me, immediately hid behind the wall.

Peeking out shyly, the ghost met my eyes, and I spoke to it.

“Hello. Did you make all of these? You’re quite talented.”

The ghost’s eyes widened. Jerome came to mind, remembering how skillfully he had tied my hair earlier.

Thinking about it, the name “Jerry,” the spooky atmosphere, and the ghost all seemed linked to Jerome in some way.

“Jerry, heat some water for a bath.”

At Jerome’s request, the ghost hurried toward the kitchen, its cloth rustling with every step.

‘It doesn’t seem much like a ghost, though.’

As I tilted my head in thought, a painting on the wall caught my eye.

It depicted two warriors holding swords high.

Just as I had suspected, this cabin seemed to have been a hideout for the young Carlisle and Jerome.

I bent down to study the crude drawing when Jerome’s voice called me, prompting me to move again.

We passed by various knitting projects strewn across the floor and stopped in front of the crackling fireplace.

The warmth quickly made me feel drowsy.

While poking at the logs with a stick, I turned to Jerome with a question.

“Now explain—what exactly is that strange creature?”

I tossed my robe aside and flopped onto the sofa.

The firelight reflected in Jerome’s gray eyes as he stared into the flames.

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