Chapter 39

Welsie watched the Satyrus estate from a third-floor apartment nearby, leaning against the window frame and gazing at the unremarkable scenery outside, feeling listless. The sound of a sudden thud from above made her shoulders tremble. Perhaps something had fallen on the roof. Then came a series of thuds, indicating that whatever it was, it was moving. Welsie looked up at the ceiling with a frightened expression.

Then—whatever it was, it leaped from the roof, passed by the window, and landed a few meters below with a thud. Welsie rushed to the window, unlocked it, leaned out, and peered down. There stood a small girl, her hair shining in the sunlight, wearing a shirt with several tears and short pants. Welsie recognized her, but the girl's expression was devoid of emotion, as if she were a different person.

"What... what are you doing?"

Welsie cautiously spoke to Flamm, who had just dropped from the sky. Flamm responded to her voice, glaring up at her. But when she realized it was an acquaintance, the tension in her face eased.

"Ms. Welsie. Ah, that's right, it's a good thing you're here. Will you come with me?"

"Where to?"

"We're going to expose Satyrus's secret room. We might get the information you've been looking for."

"Hey!? I'll go, I'll go right away! Just wait a moment!"

Since this was someone her brother trusted, there was no room for doubt. Welsie put on a jacket hanging on the hook, slung her bag over her shoulder, and rushed out of the room, running down the stairs. She slid out of the apartment and appeared in front of Flamm.

Flamm smiled at Welsie, but her eyes didn't reflect the same warmth. A cold shiver ran down Welsie's spine as Flamm led the way, and the two of them headed in the opposite direction of the estate.

"Secret room, right?"

"Yes, the entrance is in a different place."

"Hmm... where did you get that information... Can you tell me the source?"

But it was concerning. The location of Satyrus's secret room, which Welsie had been unable to find despite her long surveillance, how did Flamm manage to get it so quickly?

Flamm answered straightforwardly.

"I got it from the adventurer Satyrus hired, after a confrontation."

"...A confrontation?"

"Milkit—my partner—was kidnapped. Satyrus is her former master and probably had lingering feelings for her."

"Oh, that's why..."

—She is this agitated.

Even understanding the reason, fear is still fear.

"Here it is."

Flamm stopped in front of a single-story house with a green roof. Compared to the surrounding houses, it didn't stand out in size or design. She tried to open the door, but it was locked, of course.

"Is the entrance to the secret room inside here?"

"That's what they said—"

Flamm pressed her ear to the door. From inside, faintly, two sets of footsteps could be heard.

"Is someone living here?"

First, Flamm knocked on the door as one would when visiting a regular home. Someone approached from inside. The door opened easily, revealing a man in his thirties. He seemed slightly shorter than the one who had kidnapped Milkit, probably a different person.

"Is something wrong, miss?"

The man spoke with a gentle smile. Flamm glared at him, and Welsie looked back and forth between them, confused.

"Is there a girl here? She's small and her face is wrapped in bandages."

"I don't know any girl like that. Are you looking for someone?"

"Yes, I'm looking for a kidnapper."

"Ah, a kidnapping. So you think the culprit is around here... Come to think of it, I did see some suspicious figures."

"Can I hear more about it?"

When Flamm said this, the man smiled and replied, "Sure, come on in."

Welsie felt something was off about his expression. She wasn't a journalist for nothing; people have a "true nature" that shows through no matter how much they try to hide it, and she could see through it. The man's acting was perfect, but fundamentally, it was twisted.

"Let's go inside and talk, standing here is awkward."

"Thank you, I'll take you up on that."

Flamm stepped into the house without hesitation.

"Wait, Flamm!"

Welsie tried to stop her, but Flamm continued forward. Reluctantly, Welsie followed her into the house. The door closed behind them. She turned around to see a man who hadn't been there before—

"Die, die, die!"

He grabbed an ax hanging on the wall and attacked. He wasn't alone. Another man, hidden in the shadows, joined in, making a total of three men, each armed, attacking simultaneously.

"Ahh!?"

Welsie instinctively crouched and covered her head. Even if Flamm was an adventurer, it would be difficult to handle three opponents at that distance. She thought her life was over—she closed her eyes tightly, but the pain never came. There was no sound of Flamm or the men. The room was eerily quiet. She cautiously opened her eyes and saw the lower halves of men who had just fallen to the ground. Their upper bodies were missing.

"Ah..."

Welsie let out a strained sound. Looking up at Flamm, she saw her lightly swing her sword to shake off the blood, which then turned into particles and disappeared. It seemed that Flamm's sword had cut through the men who attacked. All of them were cut in half, with various angles of the wounds, but all had died.

The overwhelming smell of blood made Welsie cover her mouth. Flamm extended her hand to her.

"Are you okay?"

"I... did you cut them all in a single moment?"

"Yes, if I didn't, I would have been killed."

If you don't want to be killed, you have to kill. It's a simple truth. However, no matter how true it is, anyone can be afraid of it. Welsie hesitated to take her hand. With that look, with that action—Flamm would be hurt.

She pulled Welsie's arm and, slightly bowing her head, led her deeper into the house.

"...I'm sorry, Flamm."

Welsie apologized on the spot. Flamm stopped and said, without turning around,

"I know life is precious. It should be valued and not taken lightly."

However, if everything were equal, that would be different. Life has different values for different people.

"But, for example, in your case, if Mr. Leach or your family were in danger, and you had to choose between a stranger and someone important, what would you do?"

For Flamm, what matters are her life and Milkit's life. According to her values, the choice is clear and doesn't require any thought.

"I would calmly choose the important person. I wouldn't hesitate to kill others for that... Is that wrong?"

It's a very simple matter. Flamm is in a world where life is constantly exchanged, while Welsie is not. Flamm is probably struggling to escape such a world. Seeing her struggle and feeling fear is a desecration to the girl who continues to fight in such a small body.

"I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, I'm not holding it against you. Let's quickly find the entrance to the secret room."

Her voice was bright, but forced. Welsie felt ashamed for making a younger person put on a brave face. She slapped her cheek and said, "Pull yourself together, me," and shook off her fear to stand up.

◇◇◇

When she took a breath, the stagnant air filled her lungs. The smell was unpleasant and repulsive, yet somehow familiar. She had been making breakfast with Flamm and watering the flowers in the planter with a watering can. But from there, her memory was completely blank. Suddenly, her vision went dark, and when she came to, she was in this state. She didn't know if she was lying down or if her vision was blocked, but it was unclear.

"Master... sir..."

However, the fact that she could think and move to some extent was proof that her consciousness was returning. She tried to lift her eyelids with some effort. In the hazy scenery, she saw a blue... carpet, perhaps. The sensation she felt on her left side, where it touched the floor, was given by wool. In other words, she was lying down. Milkit put her hands on the floor and slowly raised her body. To confirm where she was, she let her gaze wander—

"Good morning, Milkit."

—In front of her, a woman's face appeared, garish and grinning widely, exposing her gums. Milkit recognized her. The one who had poisoned her without her noticing, causing her face to rot, her former master—Satyrus Françoise.

"A... ah, why... why!?"

Fear made it hard for her to speak. But she had to get away from her. Shaking her head, Milkit repeated, "It's a lie, it's a lie," and backed away. Seeing her reaction, Satyrus laughed, "Hehehehehe."

"Oh, you've become so human-like in a short time. I'm happy, did you meet a very good master?"

"H... h... no, no...!"

Milkit got on all fours and aimed for the corner of the room. Seeing her timid, animal-like behavior, Satyrus let out a hot breath, "Haa," and stood up, cornering her. The room was large, but her escape route was blocked. Milkit, cornered against the wall, scratched the wallpaper with her nails. Even though she knew there was no escape, she had to do something. To her, Satyrus was a symbol of terror.

"You don't have to be so scared, no one will come to save you."

"Master... Master...!"

"Oh, is this master of yours a wonderful person who would go out of his way to save a hideous slave like you? What a peculiar taste, even for sex, there are better options."

"U... u... Master...!"

Satyrus's hand reached for the back of Milkit's head. Grabbing her hair, she pulled her face close and, with a mad smile, said,

"What a pity. You