Glen hesitated for a moment. Jack had a point. If they stuck together, they’d waste time combing the same halls, and couldn't maximize their profit. It was better to split up rather than go together to speed up their little scavenger hunt.

  Besides, there was nothing to worry about. Rudolph was outside guarding the door, and no signal of trouble had come yet.

  “Alright, let’s split up. But be careful; a Bless’s home is not a trivial matter,” Glen cautiously warned them.

  “Ye, ye, we heard you, lead. Don’t touch shiny weird things, don’t die, get it.” Jack waved a hand dismissively, already eyeing the various rooms around.

  Glen ignored him and began issuing instructions.

  “Jack, you and Arnold check the first floor. I’ll take the second.”

  “Just us two?” Arnold looked at his leader in confusion. Usually, this should not be the time for a split up. First it was Rudolph, now it's Glen?

  “The second floor might be more dangerous, because the closer to the master’s personal study, the more likely there were traps.” Glen misunderstood Arnold's concern, as he explained to the nervous boy.

  “It’s not it…”

  “There’s no need to worry. If something happens, shout. I’ll hear you.” Glen flashed him a reassuring smile. He also partially wanted this boy to be more confident in himself.

  Jack tilted his head with a smirk. “The first floor, huh? How generous. Let me guess, you’re saving all the good stuff upstairs for yourself, lead?”

  “You can think whatever you want, Jack. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

  “Aye. Fine.”

  Truth be told, Jack understood perfectly well why Glen wanted the upper floor. That’s where the study usually was, and where the valuables were hidden. Glen probably wanted to claim the more expensive pieces for himself.

  But Jack wasn’t a combatant, not like the leader. so he could only grudgingly accept the order without questions. Better to listen and stay alive.

  Besides, the ground floor had plenty of antiques and silverware anyway. Enough to fill his bag and line his pockets.

  “Let’s go, punyhead,” Jack grumbled, already heading off.

  Before they parted, Glen reached into his belt and handed Arnold a dagger.

  “Take it.”

  “Isn’t this yours?” Arnold was surprised. He blinked at the dagger, not sure if he should take it or not.

  “Use it for self-defense,” Glen instructed simply, forcefully putting it into Arnold’s hand.

  “Then what about you, brother?”

  Glen flashed him a confident smile, then rolled his shoulder and flexed his biceps.

  “See this? This is all I need.”

  ‘Enough? Yours can’t even compete with Rudolph’s.’ Arnold’s mouth twitched, but he managed to force a smile.

  “Right, as expected of our brother, haha.”

  “Haha!”

  With their plan set, the three men moved in their respective directions, each driven by their own motivations.

  —

  As soon as they split up, Jack’s lips curved into a sly grin.

  ‘Dumbass.’

  The true reason he’d proposed splitting up was to enable him to pocket smaller coins and valuables into his inner pockets without anyone noticing. That way, when this was over, he wouldn't have to split those particular gains with the others.

  They sauntered down the corridor with lanterns swinging in their hands. At this point, Jack and Arnold also split up, Arnold heading off to another section of the first floor.

  He soon approached the dining room.

  “Oho…”

  Jack’s grin widened as he stepped in. The place was a treasure trove: gold-gilded candelabras, cutlery, and silver plates; an Ormolu clock; and even a row of porcelain teapots gleaming faintly under the lantern light.

  Bottles of wine lined a rack along the wall, each worth more than a month’s wage in Easton. He rubbed his hands together greedily.

  ‘Jackpot.’

  He stuffed a handful of them into his bags, then snatched a few decorative vases, careful to wrap them in the rag he carried so they wouldn’t break.

  Something caught his eye at the far end of the long mahogany table. He adjusted his handheld lantern, bringing it forward.

  ‘Coins?’

  Jack raised his lantern and stepped closer, widening his eyes. Sure enough, it was a pile of glittering coins, forming a small mound. The light reflected off their surfaces, inviting him to pick them up himself.

  The air in the room smelled of faint sweet potato and sugar, reminding him of the meal he used to eat with his band.

  ‘Stew?’

  Jack raises his eyebrows. He pressed his finger into one of the candelabra’s wicks. The candelabrum's wicks were still warm, as though they’d been blown out just moments ago.

  Jack’s smirk faltered slightly, his instincts pricked. As the smartest one in the group, he smelled something fishy, as if someone had deliberately lured them here.

  ‘Am I overthinking it?’

  He dropped the bag he was carrying onto the floor and carefully approached the table, his eyes scanning for any signs of danger while brushing his thumb across one of the cool coins.

  “Ha… It’s indeed coins.”

  Was he worrying too much? What reason would anyone have to lure them here? He murmured, the lure of wealth overriding his caution.

  The fucktard was a client. The Trader protected their group. If anyone laid a hand on them, that fucktard would lose their standing and have to pay a hefty price from the underworld. No one would dare to anger the Golden Trader.

  Reassured by his own logic, Jack chuckled.

  “Heh. My lucky day.”

  He placed his lantern on the table, shoved the coins into his hidden pocket while simultaneously trying to discern his surroundings, searching for any changes or suspicious movements.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Without warning, something looped around his neck.

  “Wha…?”

  Jack was momentarily stunned. Before his thought could finish, it tightened. His breath hitched. Jack’s hands shot up to his throat.

  A cord? A wire? A rope? He couldn’t tell. Out of air, he panicked; his brain did not function properly.

  His feet left the ground.

  “Ghhh…Ghhhkkk…!”

  He gasped, scrambling instinctively toward his pocket, trying to grab the butter knife he had just stolen. But it slipped from his grasp, falling silently to the ground with a dull clink before he could get a firm hold.

  ‘!!’

  Jack kicked furiously, hands clawing at his neck, desperately trying to loosen the grip, but it was fruitless. His lungs screamed for air. His vision darkened. Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth as his body jerked violently.

  ‘Ar…Hel…’

  The thought never finished. His eyes rolled upward, head lolled to the side, body dangled midair for a heartbeat before falling still.

  The coins spilled down, scattering across the table with a soft clink.

  —

  Arnold, alone in one of the mansion’s rooms, tightened his grip on the lantern’s handle. Its occasional flicker made the dark corners twitch like they were alive.

  ‘Calm down,’ He took a deep breath to steady himself.

  Glen had specifically instructed him not to light any of the oil lamps, so he adhered to the order, not daring to approach any of them.

  Most of the rooms he passed were for guests and staff. Occasionally, he would find living rooms and lounges, as well as kitchens and laundry rooms, but they were largely empty.

  Arnold wasn’t usually scared of the night; even in darkness, the mansion was softly illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the windows.

  He was, however, nervous because every now and then, a strange, unsettling noise would echo from somewhere, grating on his nerves.

  “Hghhh!”

  Just like now.

  ‘?’

  No, that wasn’t a strange noise; that was a human sound…a scream! Arnold immediately became alert. The scream reverberated through the hallway. He considered running back to Glen and reporting it, but then…

  “H…Help!”

  ‘This voice…it’s Jack!’

  It was his bandmate’s voice.

  “Jack, where are you!?”

  Though faint, Arnold knew where Jack had gone earlier, so finding him wouldn't be hard. He immediately sprinted toward the source of the scream, turning corners in the dark, trying to pinpoint the exact location.

  Before he could shout and ask Jack again, he heard a faint sound from one of the areas Jack had entered.

  “Here! Help me!”

  It came from the corridor to his right.

  “Jack, hold it there, I’m coming!” Arnold yelled back, relief washing over him. Hearing Jack’s voice again, reassured him that it wasn’t anything serious. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘Is his bag full?’

  Probably just Jack being Jack, given his personality, that was most likely the case. He probably ran out of space in his bag and was asking for help with another one. Very greedy, and utterly obnoxious.

  Arnold half-laughing under his breath as he followed the voice, which led him to the dining room.

  ‘?’

  Contrary to his expectation, there was no one in the dining room.

  It was empty.

  “Jack?” he called out, his voice echoing in the vast space. Only the *click clock* of the pendulum clock answered him.

  Darkness enveloped the entire area. Moonlight seeped through the draped curtains, illuminating the room with an eerie glow. The long mahogany table stretched into the dark, its surface gleaming faintly.

  On the far end of the table, the small mountain of coins reflected the light, shining temptingly.

  Arnold blinked, confusion etched on his face. There was no way Jack would just leave them there; he was Jack, after all.

  “Jack, this isn’t funny,” his brows knitted, his voice wavering at the end. He could imagine Jack playing a prank on him. After all, that guy was always teasing him.

  Yet, still no one answered. His skin prickled; the silence made him even more nervous.

  He took a careful step into the dining room, the polished floor reverberating with his footsteps, each one loud enough to make his pulse spike.

  Arnold’s hand trembled slightly as he raised his lantern higher, sweeping the dim light across the long table, the walls, the windows, searching for any evidence of Jack’s cruel joke.

  *Clank.*

  “Hikk!”

  The sharp noise from behind sent a shiver down his spine. Arnold spun around at once, the lantern’s light swung wildly. He quickly reached behind him, gripping the familiar dagger in his pants.

  *thump thump*

  His heart thudded like a drum. Every sound made his body tense. As he shone the light toward the entrance, he suddenly found a strange figure creeping near it.

  “W…Who’s there!?”

  Arnold stepped backward, immediately drew out his hidden dagger and pointed it at the figure, growling with a desperate threat.

  As he moved closer, the lantern’s light pressed forward, slowly illuminating the figure.

  “!”

  However, he was surprised, extremely so.

  ‘A girl?’

  She stood in the doorway, wearing a simple white dress that hung loosely over her small frame. Her long black hair veiled most of her face, only parting as she tilted her head to one side, strands slipping off her cheek.

  And beneath that black curtain was eyes. Her greenish, piercing eyes shone faintly in the dim environment, looking directly into his. For an instant, Arnold felt as though every thought in his head was laid bare, like she could see everything.

  He swallowed hard, gripping his dagger tighter.

  “He…hello?”

  The girl did not answer. She said nothing, but just stared at him, unblinking.

  Slowly, she lifted her arm. His body stiffening he stepped back instinctively.

  Yet, contrary to his prediction, her thin arm simply rose, and her finger pointed at him.

  “…?”

  He squinted slightly, trying to understand the gesture.

  “Behind… me?”

  Arnold hesitated, cautious of the girl. He discerned her intention, keeping her in the corner of his eyes while turning to the direction of her pointing finger. Maybe it was a trick. Maybe she was trying to distract him.

  He was pretty sure there was nothing behind him; he had just checked, after all. At most, there was only the coin mountain, the candelabrum, or the blank picture in a golden frame.

  Or was he missing something?

  As he turned his eyes, they widened, and his heart skipped a beat. The lantern’s light shone forward, pushing back the moonlight.

  “Ahh…”

  He craned his head up, slowly engraving the scene before him into his memory. Reflecting in his eyes was a man he knew too well. He was suspended mid-air, his legs dangling above the ground.

  The man’s eyes were half-open, his head hanging limply on a thick rope.

  With just this alone, Arnold understood what was going on. This was no stupid joke.

  Jack was dead.

  As the thought echoed in Arnold’s mind, before he even had time to be terrified, the head twitched.

  The hanged man’s mouth curled upward into a grotesque smile. His pupils glared directly at Arnold.

  “Ar…Arnold…”

  Arnold’s entire body went rigid.

  “Y–You’re here…”

  “GAHHHHHHH!”

  Arnold stumbled back, tripping over his own feet, eyes wide with terror.

  He immediately turned and ran, wanting to flee this place as soon as possible. He didn’t care what was happening.

  Something was wrong, definitely wrong here, this damn mansion!

  *Thud!*

  “Ahh…”

  Before he could even reach the threshold, a heavy impact struck the back of his head.

  His vision burst into blinding white for an instant before fading into black. The lantern slipped from his hand.

  The last thing he saw, blurred through the haze of fading consciousness, was the black-haired girl standing in front of him.

  Objects floated in the air, all circling her like a ghostly halo. Her green eyes shimmered faintly in the candlelight as the room darkened again.

  —-

  ‘Why did you go out?’

  “Isa wanna join too!”

  ‘Tch. Hide.’

  "Oke:<”