Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate-Chapter 17: Elysia, The Maid

I navigated the halls with ease.

Despite the sheer size of the mansion, the layout was identical to the one I had seen in the game. Every hallway, every turn—it all lined up perfectly in my head. That alone should've been unnerving, but I didn't have the time to dwell on it.

'At least something about this place makes sense.'

Within minutes, I arrived at my destination.

Damien's room.

The heavy double doors loomed before me, dark wood polished to a pristine shine. I pushed them open without hesitation, stepping inside—

And immediately, I was greeted by wealth.

'Tch. No surprise there.'

Everything in the room screamed luxury. The walls were lined with dark mahogany shelves, packed with books that probably cost more than most people's rent. A massive desk sat near the floor-to-ceiling windows, a sleek, high-end computer resting on its surface. The screen was still on, casting a faint glow across the room, illuminating the expensive-looking peripherals neatly arranged beside it.

To the right, a massive flat-screen TV took up nearly an entire section of the wall, with an equally high-end sound system surrounding it.

The bed—if I could even call it that—was absurdly large, draped in silk sheets and ridiculously plush pillows.

There was no clutter. No sign of wear.

The room was spotless. Not a single speck of dust, not a single item out of place.

'Tch. Of course. The maids must keep this place pristine every damn day.'

It made sense. A room like this—hell, a house like this—wasn't just expensive. It was maintained. Constantly renewed, polished, reset to perfection like a showroom display.

Looking at it now, I couldn't deny it.

'This is exactly the kind of place an Elford should live in.'

And yet...

I let my gaze sweep over the room again, taking in the sheer contrast between this moment and the one from just an hour ago.

Just an hour ago—

I was dying.

Lying in a fucking hospital bed, trapped in a body that refused to move, my life dictated by machines and nurses. Every second a reminder of how little control I had, how I was nothing more than a breathing corpse waiting for the inevitable.

But now—

Now I was here.

Standing in this massive room, surrounded by wealth, power, things that belonged to a man who had everything.

I let out a quiet breath, my lips curling slightly.

'Ironic.'

That was the only word that came to mind.

I had too many questions, but I knew better than to dwell on them now. The system—once it was repaired—would give me the answers I needed.

KNOCK.

The sharp sound cut through the silence.

I turned just as the door creaked open.

A maid stepped inside. Young. Dark uniform pristine, posture stiff.

She met my eyes.

And she didn't look away.

Her green eyes met mine.

Cold.

Empty.

She stood there, stiff-backed, her expression unreadable. There was no warmth in her gaze, no hesitation—just quiet detachment, as if she were looking at something insignificant. Something replaceable.

"Young Master."

Her voice was as flat as her expression.

And in that instant, I knew exactly who she was.

'Elysia Verdant.'

One of the characters from the game.

A maid bound to the Elford family, known for her cold, distant nature. In the game, she had always been unreadable, her words carefully chosen, her emotions locked away behind that same blank expression. She was the type of character players struggled to get close to—the kind who never revealed what she was really thinking.

And yet, standing here, feeling the weight of her gaze on me—

It was different.

More unsettling.

The screen could only do so much, but now, seeing the sheer emptiness in those green eyes, feeling the air grow heavier in her presence—

I felt it.

A nervous twitch in my fingers. The faintest tightening in my chest.

'This body... It's intimidated.'

Tch. Pathetic.

I forced myself to relax, shoving my hands into my pockets, letting the tension roll off my shoulders. I wasn't about to let this body's leftover instincts dictate anything.

'What kind of idiot gets nervous over a maid?'

I scoffed internally, smirking just slightly as I met her gaze head-on.

If this body was too weak to handle her—

I'd just have to break that habit myself.

I let the smirk linger on my lips as I spoke, my voice steady.

"Elysia."

The maid didn't react. Not outwardly, at least. But the weight of her gaze remained the same—unwavering, cold, like she was dissecting me with her eyes.

I leaned slightly against the desk, tilting my head. "What brings you here?"

For the first time, she moved. A small shift, her head tilting to the side, those sharp green eyes narrowing ever so slightly. It was a silent question.

'Don't you already know?'

But the thing was—I didn't.

'Tch. Was I supposed to do something?'

Nothing came to mind. In the game, there had been no event like this, no scene where she confronted Damien in his room. If there had been, I would have remembered.

And then—

Elysia took a step forward.

"You always make me take your clothes," she said, voice flat, unbothered, like she was simply stating a fact.

'Heh?'

I blinked.

The hell?

That hadn't been in the game.

I stared at her, searching for some kind of tell—some hint that she was messing with me. But there was nothing. No amusement, no irritation. Just that same blank, emotionless stare.

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'You fucking bastard.'

It made sense.

Damien Elford—this pathetic excuse of a man—there was no way he had the guts to outright demand anything from a woman, especially something sexual.

But he must also have had his desires, desires that he couldn't control. And to satisfy them...he must have made such an order, knowing that this maid wouldn't dare to refuse him.

This guy... he lacked the strength. The will. The sheer presence to command someone like Elysia.

He probably never even looked her in the eye when making such a request. Just meekly letting things happen, waiting for her to take the initiative because he was too much of a spineless wreck to act first.

'Tch. Of course.'

Even in the game, getting to the point where the character would actually sleep with heroines took hours of careful choices, patience, and suffering through painfully awkward interactions. Five hours, at least. And that was only if you knew exactly what to do.

A smirk twitched at my lips.

'Heh...'

The thought was almost amusing.

And honestly? A part of me was tempted. Letting Elysia strip me down, watching her cold face stay as unreadable as ever—it wouldn't be the worst way to kill time.

But time was exactly what I didn't have.

The system repair was still counting down.

I had bigger things to worry about than playing along with whatever routine the old Damien had.

I exhaled through my nose, waving a lazy hand. "Not today. You can go."

Elysia didn't react immediately. She just stared at me, silent, as if evaluating something.

Elysia remained still, her cold green eyes locked onto mine. It was as if she were waiting, processing my words in that eerily detached way of hers.

Then, finally—

"Understood. Confirming dismissal?"

I exhaled through my nose, nodding once. "Yeah. Go."

She didn't move right away. Instead, she stood there for another moment, her gaze steady, unreadable. Then, she gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.

"Understood."

She turned to leave, but before she could step out, I spoke again.

"And one more thing."

She paused, glancing back at me.

"Watch the door. Don't let anyone in until I come out. I have things to deal with."