1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

26. The Key (2)

The lady of the house had not yet returned. Only Hersel had come.

It was a night with little time left before the festival.

The dilapidated warehouse had been eerie for a long time. After the two assassins disappeared, Piren, left alone, repeatedly opened and closed the lid of a box.

It was because it wasn’t easy to handle. Acting rashly could mean vanishing without a trace, just like the two men before.

Even though the night guards and servants of the annex saw Phiren, who was not the maid in charge, they were only murmuring in surprise that there were still attempts on assassination.

“Hmm? Isn’t she the maid in charge of the dormitory laundry? What’s she doing in the annex?”

“Could it be a last-ditch challenge? The deadline is approaching, after all.”

“Tsk, tsk, seems like she hasn’t been dealt with harshly yet.”

“Hmph, as if those nobodies have ever killed someone properly.”

Phiren snorted at the servants’ murmurs as she walked.

But the servants of the annex seemed to want a spectacle, as they started to follow her at a distance. The crowd grew, with servants just woken up, yawning in their pajamas, joining in.

“Yawn, what’s all this commotion that woke us up?”

“What’s going on that’s gathered such a crowd?”

“Look over there. That lady is taking on the challenge. Maybe this is the last time.”

Phiren was taken aback by the people’s stares.

‘…Goodness, I’ve never been so openly brazen in this act before.’

It was as if she had become a hero from a novel, setting out to slay an evil dragon.

This was enjoyable in its own way. When else would an assassin receive such treatment?

Phiren, feeling empowered, pulled out the magical key hidden in the pocket under her skirt. The people gasped in awe, like primitive humans discovering fire for the first time.

“Wow, that key shimmering with blue light seems quite mysterious.”

“Indeed. Normally, one would struggle with a wire to pick a lock…”

“She must be well-prepared. That’s the level of her resolve, I suppose?”

Click!

The door opened. As soon as Phiren entered the dragon’s lair, she pulled out her wand, cast a silence spell, and slammed the door with all her might. Not even the sound of an ant breathing could be heard.

‘As expected, my skills are intact. Alright, shall I quickly finish the job and leave?’

Hersel was blissfully unaware, sleeping comfortably.

Phiren carefully placed one of the potion bottles hanging from her thigh strap on the floor and swung her wand to cast a telekinesis spell. The lid opened, and a green liquid began to move like a living snake.

The contents were a corrosive poison extracted from a Viper Silurus.

‘Just need to slam this into the windpipe, and even an imperial knight would drop dead in an instant.’

After preparing, Phiren looked up, her eyes widening. There was no one on the bed. That’s when she noticed the shadow on the floor was larger than her own.

‘Gasp!’

Phiren instantly turned around, trying to swing her wand. But before she could complete the arc, Hersel’s hand grabbed and twisted her wrist.

Thud!

The wand dropped, and the silence spell broke. The force on the back of her head pushed her face to the ground.

“Ouch!”

A dull pain in the wrist and cheekbone.

As I realized things had gone awry, I looked at Hershel. With his eyes closed, he said nothing, only putting more weight on me. Even as the twist in my wrist worsened, my attention was elsewhere.

The smell of burning was thick in the air. A corrosive poison had soaked into the sleeve of my shoulder.

“Eek!”

The fabric absorbed the poison like cotton. It would soon touch my skin. Pyren’s eyes widened, and with cold sweat dripping, he whimpered.

“Just, just a moment. Oh, no… This can’t touch my skin!”

“…”

Instead of words, Hershel responded by ripping the sleeve—shhht.

With the immediate danger averted, Pyren sighed in relief, considering it a golden opportunity, and smiled triumphantly.

He was completely defenseless while throwing the poisoned cloth. After all, he already had a dagger drawn from his pocket in hand.

“Die!”

Pyren twisted his body and swung at Hershel’s neck. But the feel in his wrist was heavy, like hitting a solid rock with an iron rod.

Crack!

“Huh?”

With a tingling pain of fracture, the dagger cracked. Pyren flung the broken dagger away, clutching his wrist and screaming in a sharp voice.

“aaagh! It hurts! It’s painful!”

He rolled on the ground but had to endure. Hershel was looking down with fierce eyes.

* * *

[A physical attack has been detected.]

[A trait has been activated.]

[1-second invincibility cooldown: 57 seconds]

I opened my eyes to the system window.

At my feet, a familiar yet unfamiliar maid clutched her wrist, rolling on the ground, tears streaming down her face.

“What are you?”

As the maid’s face turned pale and she barely moved her lips, Donatan answered for her.

‘She tried to kill you.’

‘Ah.’

That was enough to understand the situation.

Donatan was once called the ‘sleeping sword’ among the previous owner’s cursed blades.

The enemy, who was spread out everywhere, entrusted his night guard to Donatan when he slept, and Donatan learned his skills for the sake of his master’s comfortable sleep. This was the biggest merit I had applauded myself for when signing the contract.

So, the current situation is that Donatan protected my body from assassins while I was asleep.

‘The sleep guard did his job properly.’

‘…That’s a statement that dishonors me. You damned fool.’

So, what about this woman?

Judging by her appearance, she’s different from the servants I’ve spared before. There were magic wands and strangely scented potion bottles scattered on the floor. It was clear she was an assassin.

“So, how should you be punished? Since all the assassins so far have been killed, it would only be fair to sentence you to death, right?”

As I narrowed my eyes, the assassin shivered. Donatan spoke with excitement.

‘This is a good opportunity, Hershel. There’s a crowd outside. If you hold this woman’s neck and show your dignity, it would serve as a good example.’

‘Hmm, that’s true, but…’

Seeing her face buried in the floor, her cheeks pressed down, and her eye makeup smeared with tears, my desire to do so faded.

Should I say she looks somewhat foolish?

She seems weak, and maybe she could be useful later.

Moreover, creating too much fear is also a problem. If the infamy is too high, justice-driven playable characters might beat you up.

Since the festival is coming to an end, it was necessary to adjust appropriately. Now it’s time to shed the monstrous image and return to my original self.

To the diligent and sincere me, who was well-regarded by those around me.

Weighing the pros and cons, I relaxed the intensity in my eyes.

“I won’t kill you, so there’s no need to tremble.”

“…Is that really true?”

With that calculation in mind, I helped the assassin to her feet. The promise of sparing her life had somewhat calmed her eyes. But I couldn’t just let her go empty-handed.

“Of course. But you have to agree to one condition.”

If you tried to take a life, you must pay a price. That’s the way of the world. I said with a sly smile.

“Hand over everything you have.”

I wonder what will come out?

The last assassin was a beggar with nothing but a staff. And to make matters worse, the staff was useless because the thief who took it had his neck cut along with it. So, I had high expectations.

At the word ‘forgiveness,’ the assassin flinched and then looked puzzled.

“What? Everything I have… I don’t have anything significant that you would want, sir.”

“Why not? It’s right there under your skirt.”

“…”

I was pointing at the pocket hanging on her thigh. But the assassin, perhaps having an absurd imagination, blushed and pulled her skirt down tightly.

Look at this guy.

“…Who are you calling a pervert?”

I wrapped my head with my hands in response to the unpleasant misunderstanding.

“It’s suffocating. Put down what you’ve strapped to your thigh.”

Only then did the assassin realize his mistake, exhaling a sigh of relief as he offered up his pockets and vials.

“Is it true that if I hand over just this, you’ll spare my life?”

To settle for just this?

At the absurd suggestion, I snorted and shook my head.

“I wonder if you’re naive. You tried to kill someone; naturally, you should give everything before you leave, that’s only right.”

This time, I was referring to the wand scattered on the floor. Even a low-grade magic wand was considered a valuable item. The assassin’s face turned pale as if drained of blood.

“Please, anything but this.”

“Why?”

“It’s my only precious tool. If you take this too, I’ll be…”

The assassin trailed off, then muttered softly.

“I’ll be completely destitute. Without it, I can’t even work. I beg you, please spare the wand…”

Isn’t that a good thing?

An opportunity to take up a more honorable profession.

I wasn’t so depraved as to ignore the chance to rehabilitate someone. So, this wasn’t extortion; it was doing the right thing.

“Don’t want to?”

Snatch!

“Sob…”

Roughly seizing the wand, the assassin made a crying face and wept. Regardless, I swept up all the seemingly useless tools.

Oh, Viper Silus’s poison and a timer seal too?

Might as well take them; never know when they’ll come in handy.

Thinking it was all over, the assassin wiped his tears with a handkerchief and bowed his head.

“…My apologies. I’ll take my leave now.”

Trying to run away?

I hadn’t finished with her yet, so I stopped her in her tracks.

“Hold on. Shake that spot where you’re standing.”

“Sh-shake it?”

“Up and down.”

He added hand gestures as he spoke.

“Up-up and down. Keep repeating.”

Understanding the command, the assassin grimaced, squeezed his eyes shut, and began to hop up and down like skipping rope. His figure was that of a man doomed to be stripped of every last coin.

Jingle-

In truth, coins mean little to a wealthy young master like me. Yet, I had to take them all. As long as the festival’s deadline remained, I had to ensure he couldn’t buy any weapons. Let me say it once more, there’s a profound reason for this, it’s not just extortion.

“I knew it would come to this. Can you hear the coins? Take those out too.”

“…Excuse me, but this is a silver coin, isn’t it meaningless to a young master like you? So, please… I beg of you, spare me this much. It’s my living expenses, hehe.”

The assassin pleaded with a foolish smile, seeking sympathy. My heart softened as I gazed deeply at the coin. And then, I took it.

Her hand now empty, she gaped like a goldfish.

“Who told you to slack off? Hand over everything you have. If you don’t want to die, keep shaking without rest.”

The assassin’s expression turned from a glare as if to say ‘go pluck a flea’s liver’ to a pout, suggesting ‘this really isn’t right,’ as he continued to hop in place. I sat on a chair, one leg crossed over the other, hand gestures included, ears perked up.

“Haah… Huff huff. How long do I have to do this? I’m already out of breath.”

“Shut your mouth. You’re losing focus.”

I made him continue until the sound of coins completely disappeared. If he tried to hop lightly to keep his possessions hidden, I scolded him, and only then could I ‘confiscate’ everything the assassin had.

I felt proud, having guided a person onto the right path.

If there were one more person like me, the world would be at peace.

* * *

As soon as Piren stepped outside the door, tears of sorrow began to flow.

The assassin had been stripped of his tools, his weapons. All the valuable items he had saved for today were gone. And as if that wasn’t enough, even the last remaining silver coin was taken. He rummaged through his pockets hoping to find something left, but all he felt was lint.

Having always been the one to extort, never the one extorted, he felt an unprecedented sense of shame and emptiness.

“Sob…”

His shoulders shook, and a whimpering cry leaked out. Passersby draped a blanket over him with pitying looks.

Piren was too shocked to hear their murmurs.

“Oh my, that person… his clothes…”

“Cough, let’s be quiet. Show some consideration.”

Someone even handed him a handkerchief. As he wiped his tears, his makeup smeared like someone half out of their mind. The more disheveled he became, the deeper the sympathy from the onlookers grew.

“My goodness, he must be in shock.”

“I heard they told him to shake up and down… such cruel words.”

“They even took his money!”

“Oh, what a scoundrel!”

As Piren left his seat, the murmurs of the attendants grew louder. The door opened with the sound filling the hallway. The attendants looked at Hersel with bated breath, their faces stricken with fear.

“Quite a crowd today.”

His voice, a deep baritone, spread through the silence.

He scanned the room with a menacing smile.

“Good. I was thinking of having a chat with you all anyway.”

The attendants whispered among themselves, their faces pale.

Then, one by one, they hurriedly covered their faces and left their spots, and soon, everyone followed suit.

They didn’t look back. Those at the very end of the group even ran, fearing they might become the target.

Unaware of their escape, Hersel closed his eyes and spoke in a soulless voice.

“Even as the head of the family, I will not hold you accountable for your sins. The act of sparing the woman was a mercy to demonstrate this. I am generous to you all… Huh?”

Feeling the silence oddly devoid of even breath, Hersel opened his eyes. Regrettably, the corridor was desolate.

“Damn it.”

* * *

Morning broke.

Piren, who had stayed up all night, couldn’t close his eyelids. An unexpected visitor had come to the shabby warehouse.

“Really, is this document enough to erase all my past sins?”

At Piren’s question, Daysel, who had just arrived at the mansion, nodded.

“It’s a document stamped with the seal. It’s yours now.”

The single piece of paper he placed on the desk. The long-desired amnesty was within reach, and Piren’s eyes trembled. But he couldn’t touch it rashly.

A nobleman is no volunteer, and to promise freedom without completing the mission?

Such cases always come with a price.

As expected, a situation he often faced during his active days ensued.

“However, I can’t just give it to you without one last errand.”

Thump!

Daysel placed a small box on the desk, and Piren, puzzled, checked its contents. The subtle glow of geometric shapes engraved on the saw blade. It was a complex device, among the highest grade of keys.

“…This isn’t something used for ordinary tasks, what do you want me to do with this?”

Daysel opened his mouth with a grave expression.

“Release the monster that sleeps underground. That’s all I ask.”

“A monster… you say?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Phiren’s forehead, the sound surpassing the bounds of imagination.

Many monsters slumber underground. Yet, only one warrants sealing with such a key.

The great demon beast ‘Black Swan of Resentment’ that erased Melbra village from the map.

What this man now demands is to unleash a vicious calamity in the heart of a mansion teeming with people.

The goal may be to kill Hersel, but should it really be done? Utter madness. Yet, Phiren snatched the pardon with a venomous look.

“I’ll do it. By today.”

The girl, who grew up in harsh conditions from a young age, knew all too well that nothing filled her with satisfaction quite like feeding on someone.

“Then I’ll take your word for it.”

“Yes, take care.”

After the clandestine deal, Dacell rose from his seat and left the warehouse.

Under the sunlight, the servants bustled about. A passing maid bowed her head in greeting.

Dacell, hiding his true feelings as usual, responded with a calm nod.

Once the maid was gone, his expression darkened.

‘To achieve what I desire, a price must be paid, even if it’s the blood of the innocent…’

But that thought was fleeting.

The moment he spotted Mircel heading to Hersel’s annex since morning, a sharp murderous intent filled his eyes.