[My brother... he couldn’t have gone to a good place, could he?]

Amy had seen it too. The instant Professor J.B. died, his soul was dragged down into the earth by countless black hands, sinking with a wretched scream.

He’d said dying would be happier than living like that—was he happy in that moment?

“He murdered the innocent like that; do you think he went somewhere good? If that man went somewhere good, there wouldn’t be a soul left in this world bound for hell.”

[Still... that’s too much to say about the dead.]

“Listen to you, sticking up for him just because he’s your brother.”

So the siblingless are supposed to live feeling wronged?

[Gyu?]

When she muttered in a tone full of disapproval, King, who’d been prowling nearby, tapped Camilla’s foot as if to comfort her.

“Right, King. You’ll be my little brother.”

Camilla scooped King up and quietly stroked the cub’s head.

Is it the strength of a small living thing? Holding him like this, she felt her mood settle.

Her thoughts naturally turned to the victims.

The dead women had all watched Professor J.B. being dragged to hell.

Tears mixed with many emotions flowed as they bid her farewell, then scattered each their own way.

‘They probably went to see the ones they wanted to see one last time.’

She’d felt a little unsettled at the sight of those women weeping so sadly, but with King in her arms, her heart grew calm.

[Anyway, it’s all over now.]

Amy let out another short sigh.

For a long time, she had watched her brother, both angry and heartsick. She had wanted somehow to stop the killings, but there had been no way.

As the dead, all she could do was watch.

Should she call it a relief that it ended before her brother committed even more sins?

“It’s not over.”

[Huh?]

“It’s starting now.”

Without stopping the hand that stroked King, Camilla looked at the papers set off to one side.

They were the materials she’d asked Rube to obtain last time. The files on the dead women.

“Their people are still out there.”

There was a reason Professor J.B.’s murders hadn’t been widely known outside. No one knew they’d been murdered.

‘Why?’

Because their parents hid it.

Professor J.B. had staged the scenes to look like the victims had taken their own lives, and the parents had raced to ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) hide their daughters’ true causes of death. They’d disguised those deaths as accidents.

They were afraid their abuse would be exposed.

If it became known their daughter had committed suicide, people would dig into why she’d made that choice.

But with Professor J.B.’s capture, all the facts were laid bare.

‘Their lies got caught.’

Every last one who’d staged their daughters’ deaths as accidents was now in a panic to bury the truth.

They were pouring in every ounce of power they had to keep anything from leaking out.

‘And I plan to get in the way of that.’

With public opinion.

There’s nothing as frightening and powerful as public opinion. She had felt that force more than anyone while living as a celebrity.

Of course, there was no internet here, and no mobile phones, but there were plenty of means to drive public opinion.

There were newspapers, and she could use handbills or wall posters.

Camilla decided to use every means available.

She would distribute a detailed account of the entire affair to every press outlet across the Empire.

‘This is why power and money are good.’

Camilla, very openly, borrowed the strength of House Sorpel.

Not only did the duke readily grant his daughter’s request, he actively helped in what she was doing.

Starting tomorrow, the whole Empire would be abuzz again.

The adoptive parents of the dead women would make a frantic effort to stop the rumors and hide what they’d done to the bitter end, but with Duke Sorpel moving, it would be anything but easy.

‘They’re going to have trouble showing their faces.’

People’s attention doesn’t last that long, but in a noble society that values face, it was certain they would no longer mingle as freely as before.

‘As for them... unfortunate, but that’s enough.’

One thing remained.

[Hm? Why?]

Seeing Camilla’s gaze swing back to her, Amy cocked her head.

“Amy.”

[Yeah?]

“Where do the people who did that to you live?”

[ ...! ]

Amy’s expression went blank for an instant.

****

“Mm....”

Vinter, who had been sleeping deeply, woke with a dry throat.

“Damn.”

Seeing the water glass on his bedside table empty, Vinter muttered a small curse and got up.

He cast a brief look of displeasure at his wife for not even keeping the glass filled, then headed to the kitchen.

“Haa.”

Yawning over and over as he stepped into the kitchen, he moved toward the cupboard to take out a fresh glass.

“Hm? What’s... this...”

Then his steps stopped dead. He’d spotted something squirming in the corner of the kitchen.

Vinter’s face twisted at once.

‘You little...!’

It was that brat, no question—the child they’d brought in recently.

‘Which bastard!’

He’d even put a lock on the door; what son of a bitch had opened it?

“You rat-bastard!”

He strode toward where the child was.

Flinch—

But his steps halted again. The child crouched in the corner looked... off.

The one they’d brought from the orphanage this time was a boy. Yet the child before him now...

‘A bob cut?’

And the figure was very small. Anyone could tell it was a girl.

‘Who?’

Most grotesque of all, a bluish light was spilling from the child’s body.

Why that glow in a dark kitchen with not even a window?

As he wondered, the child curled up on the floor slowly turned her head.

“Y—you, you’re—!”

Seeing the child’s face, Vinter’s legs gave out and he crumpled where he stood.

[I’m hungry.]

“Ugh...”

[Mister, I’m so hungry....]

“U... uhh...!”

He couldn’t even scream.

He crawled along the floor, trying to get as far from the child as he could, forcing his body to move though it had gone stiff as if frozen.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar face that shocked him. It was a face all too familiar, one he knew very well.

The problem was that child had died before his eyes last year.

“Th—that’s impossible!”

It had happened not even a month after they’d brought the child from the orphanage.

Maybe the child had been weak to begin with—after a few days of starving and making the kid work, the child had started failing and then died.

Of course he hadn’t called a healer, and he hadn’t given any special medicine. If he’d had money to waste on that, he’d have bought another bottle of good liquor.

After the child died, he’d been so upset. What loss could be worse than that.

He’d been so hot with rage for a while he couldn’t focus on work.

‘But how...!’

How was that child in front of his eyes now!

[Mister, I’m so hungry....]

“U—uwaaah!”

Only then did Vinter scream and bolt out of the kitchen.

[Mister....]

He heard the child’s voice calling after him, but he didn’t look back.

Crash!

“Uwaaah!”

He tripped over something and went down hard, screaming louder still. But no one came running.

He tried to crawl toward the second floor where his wife was.

Creak, creak—

“Hiiik!”

That was when it came.

A strange sound from somewhere.

He stopped crawling and stared, eyes full of fear, toward where the sound came from.

It was coming from the storage room built under the stairs to the second floor.

Creak... creak—

A scraping at the storage door.

At the sound, Vinter’s body froze. He didn’t even have the courage to approach.

That was the room he always used to punish children; it only made his feet refuse to move all the more.

Screee—

“Huhk!”

At that moment, the tightly shut storage door opened by itself with a ghastly noise. And Vinter saw it clearly.

A bluish hand slowly reaching out from within.

[Mister, it’s cold.... It’s so cold here....]

Another child. One he’d locked in the storage room three years ago.

The child was looking at him sadly and crying.

The memory of that day suddenly surfaced.

He’d scolded the child harder for crying that it hurt, that it hurt too much, saying the crying was noisy.

[It hurts... it hurts so much. Please, let me out.]

“U... uhh...!”

He collapsed again where he was. He wanted to run at once, but there was no strength in his legs.

[My head, my head... it hurts. It hurts....]

As the child crawled out of the storage and inched toward him, Vinter’s face went deathly pale. He had to get out of here somehow.

“Uwaaah!”

Screaming, he scrambled up the stairs.

Bang!

“H-honey!”

He flung open the bedroom door and rushed inside—and then went blank again.

“Kh—gh, khuk!”

Someone was on the bed, strangling his wife. A bluish light poured endlessly from that figure’s body.

[Why did you do that to me....]

The instant he recognized who was murmuring in that plaintive voice, Vinter collapsed to the floor.

At the sound, the woman on the bed slowly turned her head.

“Y—you!”

A face he knew well. How could he not know it? The child they’d raised for eight years!

“A—Amy...!”

[Why did you do it.]

“Hiiik!”

Watching Amy slowly approach him, Vinter scrambled backward in a panic.

[Why did you kill me!]

“I—it wasn’t on purpose! I swear!”

[Why! Why!]

In an instant Amy closed the distance and set her hands on Vinter’s neck.

“Khuk!”

This wasn’t a dream. It was no dream at all. At the crushing pressure around his throat, Vinter finally blacked out.

Thud.

As the couple lost consciousness, a figure stepped in through the window as if she’d been waiting.

The one who appeared in the room astride the Black Wolf was Camilla.

“Thinner-nerved than I expected.”

Clicking her tongue softly, Camilla looked down at Vinter and his wife sprawled on the bed and the floor.

She’d thought the sort who drove others to their deaths would stay perfectly calm even at the sight of ghosts.

“Good job.”

She lightly stroked the Black Wolf’s head as it circled her in the room.