1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

3. The Immortal of One Second (2)

People looked as small as fingernails. Despite the distance, one could still make out the details.

It was the time of sunset. Judging by the sheets being spread out, it seemed they were collecting the laundry before it got dark.

I marveled at a villager from atop the cliff.

Isn’t this fascinating?

When playing the game, such distances wouldn’t even be marked. A common trick used by game developers to save on PC resources.

This felt no different from reality.

Even if I, as the observer, was unaware, someone else was living out their time simultaneously.

After a brief observation, I savored the pleasant breeze and the warm sunlight.

This place truly purifies the soul.

“Nice.”

As I indulged in the view, Celly beside me gave a slight chuckle.

“Isn’t it just? This has been a secret spot where I often came with my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes, you might not remember, but my mother has worked in this mansion since long ago. She discovered this place around the time the young master was born and would always come here when she needed peace of mind.”

“I see, it certainly is soothing.”

The little girl’s story melted my heart.

Perhaps this is a sense of kinship.

Both she and I, each reminiscing about our mothers.

For a few seconds, I stood silently. A cool breeze was blowing. I shivered slightly at the chill.

Was it the wind, or was it because Selly’s voice sounded a bit behind this time?

“But young master.”

It sounded decidedly cold. The sun was setting, making it a bit chilly. Did you feel the cold?

“Have you decided on your will?”

Ah, the will. The thing you write before you die.

It’s not unusual to think about it at least once in life. It’s a bit vague and not clearly defined, but let’s see.

I had thought about it roughly – never open that folder on the hard drive-

Wait. What is she saying…?

I turned my head and stared at Selly.

“Why that look? Don’t you understand why I’m doing this?”

I flinched for a moment.

When our eyes met, it felt like chills ran through my entire body. The sunset was so bright, yet the child’s retinas were filled with shadows, not a speck of light.

“My mother dedicated her life to the Tenest family. Then she fell ill and retired.”

“…What are you trying to say?”

“I’ve heard a lot about how kind Lady Lisean was to you. But you, young master, you never treated me that way. Do you understand now?”

A sparkle flashed in the girl’s eyes. Unknowingly, I clenched my fist defensively.

Why do I, a bulky man, feel intimidated by a little kid who barely reaches my chest?

It must be because of this. The cliff behind me, as a background setting, maximizes the fear.

Surely it’s not what I’m thinking?

Brought here for revenge, to be pushed and killed.

But then, what would I do?

The opponent is just a tiny kid. If I grab her cheeks, I can subdue her. A scolding would be enough to stop such pranks.

“……”

That’s what I thought. Until a dagger sprang from the girl’s embrace.

‘Ah, a knife is cheating!’

My spine tingled. You might think it’s easy to overpower a small girl’s dagger, but I know from videos I’ve seen on NewTube. Even a pro fighter with a significant weight advantage got marked with countless sword wounds when facing an ordinary person with a painted fake sword.

And I’ve never been in a fight, a model student.

On the other hand, she was playing with the dagger as if it were a fidget spinner.

Instinct warns me. If I attack, I’ll be stabbed to death!

I swallowed hard. The little one licks the side of the knife like a crazed murderer.

The small monster in front of me seems well aware as it firmly grips the dagger, approaching me.

Let’s try to resolve this with a conversation while keeping calm.

“…I asked before. What is it that you want to say to me?”

I asked again with a composed posture, but inadvertently, my haughty attitude slipped out due to the trait ‘Noble Blood’s Last Ember’.

Even amidst this, it was Celie who let out a scornful laugh, perhaps finding my pretentiousness absurd.

“Ha! You still don’t get it? Well, to someone who looked down on me like a bug, it’s understandable.”

I’m not sure what sin the girl in front of me has committed to deserve death, but she’s got the wrong person. That’s the karma of Hersel, not mine.

You’re trying to kill an innocent, good person!

“…That day, when I had an urgent matter and needed to go home. I begged on my knees, crying that I must go home…”

Just don’t come.

It wasn’t me!

“Wait. Stop right there.”

“My mother, who was unwell, passed away that day. It was supposed to be our last moment together. I wanted to hold her hand before she left, but because of you…”

The girl’s nose was twisted in anger, her teeth clenched tightly enough to crack, and her eyes were filled with murderous intent.

In this critical situation, I blurted out whatever came to mind.

“It seems there’s some misunderstanding-“

“Was sending me on that trivial errand more important than my mother’s dying moments?”

I was wrong. There’s no sign of dialogue being established.

It makes sense. It seems like she missed her mother’s last moments because of Hersel.

This is beyond crossing the line; it’s like a long jumper who’s leaped too far. Not even an animal trainer could soothe this.

So what do I do now?

There must be some way…

That’s right, I have two bodyguards.

I need to order them to give this little one a good thump.

But as I looked at the guards keeping watch nearby, I blinked at their unbelievable antics.

I could see the reflection of metal among the bushes.

Even in this dire crisis, they were just silently watching, holding their breath.

And they did so with their white teeth neatly exposed…

As my head went blank for a moment, Celie responded with a sneer.

“Idiot. You still don’t get it?”

“……”

“It was all commissioned by the lady of the house. I just thought it was a good opportunity to join in. Thanks to that, I even got paid—nice, right?”

The lady of the house? Money?

It seems my stepmother has put a bounty on my head. Judging by their squabbling, they must have agreed to split it.

Rage boils within me.

Regardless of the reason, I refuse to die for someone else’s pleasure.

Now that it’s come to this, I must resist with all my might. Even if I die, I won’t die alone—I’m prepared to take them with me to the grave-

“It’s not just the lady of the house. Everyone in the mansion wishes for your death.”

I should have thought faster. Before I could even steel my resolve, Selly’s hand was already moving. The dagger was a fake. My attention was so focused on it that I allowed her empty hand to approach.

That damned brat, looking so pleased with herself, as if she’s fulfilled a lifelong ambition, smiles with a liberated expression.

“Well then, farewell, you trash.”

Thump-

I feel the palm of her hand against my chest.

Like a small domino toppling a larger one, my body is pushed by that small hand and falls off the cliff. As I feel the cold sweat drop from my cheek and rise upwards, I obsessively think about the being named Hershel.

I wonder how I’ve lived my life so recklessly to end up like this.

Maybe I don’t know. Perhaps he’s someone I’ve forgotten.

‘The eldest son of the Tenest family.’

‘Trash.’

‘A man who dies by hatred.’

In the grip of extreme fear, I wrack my brain. The lines of a hundred player characters flash by in an instant. I fixate on a few of their dialogue logs like photographs.

-Hershel? I know him well. Had to get engaged against my will because of the family’s position. I really hated it. A woman should wear a dress, not armor, they said.

-Is that all? Always reeking of alcohol. No manners, no effort. Always snapping at the servants. There was this one time during a meal. He threw his plate out the window because he didn’t like the food, said to feed it to the pigeons. It was unbelievable.

-I went to that guy’s funeral once, and it was just as expected. The servants of the mansion were snickering in hidden corners. Oh, and of course, I laughed along. That’s why I went. At a ball once, he called me a country bumpkin with a short stature and poured alcohol on my head. It’s all karma, karma.

Hershel was never a hastily created character. He was an NPC that had always existed.

But he was a character that had died even before the game scenario began.

It’s only natural that I had forgotten.

What’s important is that the body I’ve possessed is known among the playable characters and NPCs as a ruffian and a scoundrel.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, my heart sinks.

Yet, due to some outer characteristic, there’s no ugly contortion of my facial muscles.

I just narrowed my brows and watched as Selly walked away.

As the distance grew, the ‘noble remnant of blood’ was lifted, and my face contorted with honesty.

“Damn it.”

It’s indeed a trash ability that’s utterly useless.

What should I do now?

There is one thing I can rely on, the 1-second invincibility, but I’ve never used it even once.

It also means I don’t know how to use it.

“aaah──!”

From my throat, not as Hersel, but a pure scream of my own burst out.

The barrier of air lashes against my skin. The height of the cliff feels longer than what my eyes had estimated. My brain floundered for survival in the time that seemed extended beyond expectation.

◇1-Second Invincibility◇

It nullifies any threat for 1 second.

Cooldown: 60 seconds.

A trait that keeps you from dying for just 1 second.

Then, I must use it at the moment I’m about to hit the ground.

There’s no keyboard here, and even if I wanted to know the activation condition, I couldn’t.

Do I have to shout out the skill name like the protagonist of a childish animation?

Embarrassing as it is, I have no other choice!

I swallowed hard, my eyes wide open as I faced the ground.

Now is not the time.

The cooldown for 1-second invincibility is 60 seconds.

Even a slight miss could mean instant death.

It has to be at the critical moment.

Finally, the height I had been contemplating arrived. I trembled with tension and parted my lips.

“O, one sec-“

Boom─────!

* * *

The main gate of the Tenest family.

The duty today fell to two soldiers escorting Hersel.

It was a task they didn’t originally need to take on, but they volunteered to exchange their vile plans in private.

They stood in front of the main gate, discussing the day’s events.

“Uncle Jack, doesn’t this feel a bit wrong? If we report it like that, he’s as good as dead.”

“Oh, come on, what’s there to feel sorry about? That little brat was planning to hog eighty percent of the prize money all to himself.”

Hershel’s death was recorded not as an accidental fall, but as a murder. The report was to be sent to the lady of the house as soon as dawn broke. The young soldier felt a twinge of guilt and a vague fear as he double-checked.

“But are you absolutely sure?”

“Did I not inquire with my lady? I asked her, ‘If the person who killed him dies, who gets the prize money?’ And she said, ‘It goes to the other contributors.’ So, all that money will be ours.”

“But still… What if we suffer repercussions for failing to protect him?”

It was a festival hosted by the lady, but it involved the murder of a noble. And not just any noble, but the eldest son of the Tenest family.

Even if it’s commonplace for nobles to kill each other over inheritance disputes, it should have been an ordinary family.

The public’s attention was bound to turn their way.

“Don’t worry. The lady might actually be pleased with this.”

Even if the lady who organized this event uses her power to cover up the truth, an official cause of death is still needed.

An accident. A suicide. Something that implies no foul play.

That’s why Celly conspired with them to stage the fall.

But if the report is written as a murder out of vengeance, the story changes.

Once the report reaches the chief justice, Celly will be sentenced to death.

The fact that it was a homicide isn’t the issue. Hershel was the worst kind of scoundrel, hated by everyone in the mansion.

And considering the lady’s temperament, she would likely welcome this turn of events.

Eliminating the perpetrator would reduce future troubles, and the apparent motive was perfect.

The scenario that the worst scoundrel, despised by everyone in the mansion, was killed by the hatred of his closest servant, was more than satisfactory.

“The dead can’t speak. Even if he claims the lady ordered it before his execution, it’ll be ignored. We just need to look out for our own futures.”

“I just hope it all works out.”

At worst, they’d be dismissed for negligence.

With their pockets full of money.

“But Uncle Jack, you know the deal, right? Fifty-fifty.”

“Fifty-fifty…”

The young soldier’s face, which had been joyful moments before, suddenly turned ashen.

Because it wasn’t the voice of middle-aged Uncle Jack beside him.

It was a familiar voice.

But it was the voice of a dead man that should not be heard.

As he turned his head, Jack’s face, drenched in cold sweat, passed by, and the tall man with disheveled hair and dust-covered clothes came into focus.

Despite their disheveled appearance, an air of dignity oozed from them, and the two men trembled with disbelief in their voices.

“How on earth did you…”

The cliff was clearly smooth, without a single protruding branch to grasp.

Not a thing to hold onto, nor a jagged edge to briefly support one’s body.

And what about the ground?

It seemed so far away as to be blurry.

The reality of having fallen from such a place and returned alive sent shivers down their spines and made their hearts plummet.

While his mind was paralyzed, his lips quivered.

“Which one of you is number 5?”