Kaniki's note: Since Izzy uses Arnold as her vessel, I will use male pronouns (he) for her when she's in the male's vessel.

  Izzy guided her vessel, Arnold, down the staircase to the first floor.

  After Arnold cleaned himself up, he felt much better than before. The cold air brushing against the fabric gave him a strange sense of clarity. Dust drifted lazily in the shafts of morning light that spilled through the high windows, painting the corridor in streaks of pale gold and wood.

  It was an absurd revelation, knowing their opposite-gender vessels would behave like a magnet.

  But it's not a really serious weakness. Isa’s vessel wouldn’t be accompanying him on dangerous missions anyway. They just needed to maintain an appropriate distance, and that was all.

  Arnold’s reflection flickered briefly against the window as he passed by it, revealing a boy with a bandaged head. He had used bandages to wrap around his head, mimicking Benjamin’s corpse. He couldn’t possibly walk around with his disfigured face exposed to the world.

  The bandages wrapped tightly around his head and hid every trace of burned flesh, leaving only his eyes visible, a pair of green irises peering out from beneath the gauze. To hold them firm, he knotted a small knot at the back of his neck.

  Arnold still wore the same noble attire as before: the white frock coat trimmed with gold thread, the crisp shirt buttoned high under his throat, and fitted white gloves that masked his hands. The pristine outfit still smelled faintly of perfume, something he looted from the mansion’s wardrobe.

  Before leaving, Arnold slipped a kitchen knife into his coat. He wasn’t planning to fight anyone, but just in case, he needed something for self-defense.

  The mansion would be left to Jack and Isa to monitor. Jack would stay in the basement, and Isa would remain in the attic, both keeping watch.

  “G… Good day, Young mas—Sir!”

  As he walked toward the foyer, the stammered greeting made Arnold pause mid-step. He tilted his head toward the sound.

  “?”

  The voice was familiar. Turning around, his gaze landed on the girl standing near the main hall.

  ‘Why is this girl still around?’ Arnold couldn’t help but be surprised. He had almost forgotten about her. In his defense, he had just experienced a bothersome dilemma, so the thought of this girl did not cross his mind ever since.

  It was Erin. The young girl stood awkwardly with a nervous smile, her arms laden with cleaning supplies.

  Erin still wore her usual dirty, patched brown dress with frayed hems brushing her knees. Torn gray trousers peeked out beneath her skirt, and an old bonnet sat atop her tangled hair. However, there was one new addition: a white apron tied around her waist.

  Her blonde hair, though still streaked with dust, was now tied up into a neat bun at the back of her head. A few loose strands framed her face, making her features more vibrant than before.

  Arnold’s gaze lingered on that small detail longer than he intended. The female vessel, the one that Isa was still controlling, had long black hair that cascaded down to her waist, which was very impractical for moving and sleeping.

  He could help Isa with such hairstyling, but… considering the recent discovery, it might no longer be possible without awkward consequences.

  Still, perhaps the Marionettes could help with that? It seemed that only their Vessels were affected by that strange attraction, and their Marionettes were not. Marionette Benjamin had no problem sticking close to the girl, after all. He guessed it was because the Marionette was already dead.

  Erin shifted her weight, holding her small tools close to her chest. In her arms were a tattered rag, a bottle of baking soda, and a feather duster with missing bristles. Underneath was a bucket filled with water; the smell of cheap soap drifted faintly from it.

  The girl blinked at Arnold innocently, waiting for a response. The top of her head reached just below his eyes. She was short, but not by much, perhaps around one meter and fifty centimeters tall. The sight made Arnold realize his own small stature.

  He was barely taller than her.

  ‘…Wait, what?’

  For comparison, Isa’s vessel, the little black-haired girl with green eyes, stood at 1.3 m. He understood this since harsh living conditions and insufficient nutrition stunted her growth.

  Jack was the tallest among them, albeit much thinner, standing at roughly one seventy. Arnold, as a teenage boy, measured about 1.55 m, yet Erin, this young girl, maybe around his age, stood at 1.5 m.

  Arnold was smaller than Izzy had ever realized. And this girl stood almost at eye level with him. It wasn't that much of a deal, just a little jarring for Izzy, as the one who had gotten used to Jack’s height.

  “Why are you still here?” Arnold asked in confusion.

  Erin straightened her back and beamed brightly. “I’m cleaning on your order, sir!”

  Her tone was proud, as if she had accomplished something worth praise. A bright smile spread across her face despite it still being smudged with dirt and blemishes.

  “My order?” He frowned, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

  His eyes flicked around the foyer; it was visibly cleaner than before. The floorboards had been wiped down, the corners were now empty of spiderwebs and dust, and even the tall windows were streaked with clarity.

  ‘Did she really do all this by herself? In just a small frame of time? Was she trained to do this or what?’ He couldn’t help but find himself asking more questions. Even with the marionettes, it still took a while for Isa to clean up one room. How did Erin manage it?

  “Didn’t you order me to do it, sir?” Erin replied, tilting her head. Her black eyes reflect nothing but sincerity.

  ‘When?’ Arnold’s memories zoomed back to their first brief conversation. ‘Ah.’ Right. How could he forget? He did say something to her, back when she first woke up. He had told her to clean up and leave this place. But—

  ‘Did she misunderstand that completely?’

  What he had meant, of course, was that she should clean herself up and get out of this mansion, not… mop the entire mansion!

  Before he could clarify, the girl’s eyes widened, and she bent her head in a hurried 90-degree bow. “I’m so sorrie!”

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  “???” What was this now? Did she misunderstand something again? Arnold momentarily stepped back.

  “My cleaning skills aren’t good enough! I couldn’t finish it on time!” she blurted out in a rush, her words tumbling over themselves. “Please forgies me, I’ll work faster!”

  “What the…”

  ‘What do you mean you are not fast enough?! How fast do you intend to–’

  Arnold stared blankly for several seconds. Almost involuntarily, he raised his gloved hand to his forehead and sighed deeply.

  ‘Ouch.’

  A sting of pain pulsed beneath the bandages. Even now, the burned skin beneath it hadn’t fully healed.

  “No need,” he said.

  “I beg your pardon?” Erin peeked up, blinking in confusion.

  ‘How do I say it?’ Inside Arnold’s consciousness, Izzy pressed her mental fingers against her temple, trying to think of the best way to phrase this. She had spent almost all the time conversing with Isa in their shared mind, that she nearly forgot how to actually communicate in real life.

  Unlike her thought process, Izzy herself was efficient and direct when speaking. But this girl… this girl was a walking misunderstanding waiting to happen.

  After a moment of careful thought, Arnold lowered his hand and pointed at Erin.

  “I mean for you to leave this place.”

  Erin’s eyes went wide, her lips parted in shock. The rag slipped from her trembling fingers and hit the floor with a damp slap. She covered her mouth with one hand as her shoulders began to tremble.

  “You mean… I am dismissed, sir?” She whispered, her voice cracking like glass.

  “???” What was this about? Was his word so hard to follow?

  “No, what I mean is…” He exhaled slowly. “You’re free from now on. Leave or stay, I don’t care. There is no need to work here anymore.”

  “Yes?” The girl tilted her head, clearly not understanding what he meant.

  “I’m not your employer; I won’t pay you for your service. Your real employer isn’t here; he’s gone. So you are free to leave. That’s what I meant.” Arnold continued, trying again.

  Silence hung between them for a moment, as the words sank slowly into her head.

  “E… Excuse me?” Her voice faltered. Understanding finally dawned on her.

  She fidgeted, her hands gripping the edge of her apron. The fabric twisted between her fingers as she stared down at her feet.

  “Perchance... I might still be allowed to stay?” She murmured, her tone tingling with fragile hope.

  ‘And why do you want to do that?’ Arnold looked out at the vast forest, a thought emerging from his mind.

  ‘Is she afraid of going outside?’ He wondered. ‘Or is she afraid of going back to her family?’

  Well, that made sense. After all, Erin had been brought here unconscious. It was logical that she wouldn't know how or where to return, and would be scared to try.

  It prompted another thought in Arnold's mind.

  It seemed Erin hadn’t been dragged here against her will at all. No kidnapped victim would be this calm upon waking in an unfamiliar place. She had come here by her own choice. That old man, Benjamin, must have promised her something, the same way he likely lied to countless others.

  Perhaps a job offer, a free meal, or a promise of a better life that only the na?ve and miserable would ever believe. For a desperate family, those magical words would sound like salvation.

  If Benjamin had still been alive, Erin would likely have met the same fate as the girl Isa now possessed, just another nameless life extinguished in the dark basement of his home.

  Arnold lowered his gaze and shook his head.

  “You are free to stay,” he said.

  He respected the girl’s choice. Choice was a matter of principle to him, even if it led one down a doomed path.

  Erin’s expression softened. She clasped her hands together and gave him a small, respectful bow. “Thank you, sir.”

  Without delay, she crouched to pick up the fallen rag, gathered her supplies once more, and turned to leave toward the hallway.

  Arnold’s gaze followed her briefly. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. The cheeriness she had shown earlier faded, giving way to weariness. He could tell by her movements that she was simply lost; the girl didn’t know what to do next.

  Money. It was always money. The desperate folks always chased after it, even when it dragged them into filth. Izzy understood that well, from the life she once lived before this world, where poverty forced people to take jobs that chewed up their morality piece by piece.

  People didn’t choose dignity when they were starving. They chose to live. However, that was still one of their choices.

  A scene flashed before her eyes.

  “I… I beg you, please forgive this uncle, forgive my family, please… I have no choice…”

  The man kneeled on the floor, his hands clawing at the hem of another’s pants, tears streaking down his face.

  “You have it,” A gun pointed at his head. Like a whip crack, the sound reverberated; blood sprayed across the tiles.

  A boy stared wide-eyed at the crimson. “Father—!” He screamed. A gun cocked. The scream stopped.

  “You’ve gone mad, [_],” someone whispered in his ear.

  ‘Another’ looked down, facing five bodies sprawled in the blood pooling around his boots. A blissful home, a pretend family.

  “I…”

  Arnold shook his head, clearing the unpleasant memory that had just surfaced.

  “Hey,” he called out before Erin vanished from view.

  Erin halted mid-step and turned back. “Yes?”

  “Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up." He thought for a moment and continued, "Take some nice clothes to wear; your attire bothers me.” Arnold instructed in more detail to prevent any further misunderstandings.

  “Uh?”

  A squeaking sound escaped Erin's mouth. Her eyes darted between him and her dress; the confusion on her face was almost comical.

  Of course, she didn’t understand. To a poor girl like her, the idea of bathing in a noble’s mansion and wearing fine clothing was strange.

  When she first saw the mansion’s bathing room, she had been too overwhelmed to move. It was a spacious room. A polished wooden floor gleamed beneath hanging oil lamps, and a white hip tub sat proudly beside the window.

  A vague scent of soap lingered in the air. Bright sunlight flooded the room as it filtered through the lace curtains, illuminating the pale tiled walls.

  Erin had grown up washing herself in water with a bowl drawn from the well, scrubbing dirt off her skin with a rough rag, and hoping not to catch a chill. The bathwater would be shared between family members, and if she was lucky, she might wash once every few weeks.

  She had never soaked in a tub filled with warm water and had never experienced such luxury.

  A sink with a silver basin and a mirror? The polished surface reflected her face so clearly that it frightened her.

  Even the strange white seat in the corner, the “water closet,” as she had heard others describe it, was both terrifying and fascinating.

  Erin had never seen such a thing. She had thought the mansion would have poor privies for servants, the tiny shacks built over an ash pit in the corner of the garden, with no privacy beyond the thin creak of old wood. Worse, she might have to do her natural calling outside.

  But now, to be told that she could use a noble’s bath, to touch or sit on things that must cost more than her family’s entire fortune?

  And to dress up? The wardrobe upstairs was filled with dresses finer than anything she had ever seen in her life. Wearing those was like pretending to be those middle-class ladies, someone who didn’t belong to dirt and hunger.

  But Arnold didn’t elaborate further and disappeared through the mansion’s double doors, leaving the stunned girl behind.

  She stood there for a long while, staring at the empty doorway. After a moment, she looked down at her reflection in the bucket’s rippling water, glanced down at her dress, and at the calloused hands clutching the cleaning rag. She took a sniff, as a frown creased her brow.

  “...Am I that bad?”

  —

  Outside, Arnold stood before the mansion’s front gate. The chill wind brushed against his bandaged face, stirring the hem of his frock coat.

  The gate loomed ahead, a towering structure of iron, its frame adorned with curling vines of wrought steel.

  On each side, two stone gargoyles crouched atop pillars, their wings folded tightly to their sides. They looked almost alive. Their eyes glistened faintly under the daylight.

  For a brief moment, Arnold could have sworn they had just moved. But maybe it was just his imagination. There was no way they were alive; there had been no signs of life when the Glen’s crew walked through here, after all.

  He stepped forward and reached for the heavy iron crank at the gate’s side. With a firm push, the twin gates creaked open.

  Beyond them stretched the dim forest, an endless maze of trees. The canopies swayed faintly in the wind. Mist coiled between the trunks, curling across the dirt path that led away from the mansion grounds.

  He paused and glanced back, adjusting his gloves at once.

  It was time to go out.

  Since Izzy uses Arnold as her vessel, I will use male pronouns (he) for her when she's in the male's vessel. This is to make it less jarring when she, while in a male body, interacts with other characters, because social interactions often vary depending on the perceived genders of the people involved. Well, this's why I said the pronouns will become more confusing in the later chapter.

  It's quite strange that no one actually votes for profanity. I thought Izzy had sworn many times in the past chapters? Or did I misremember it? Damn, my bird brain can't remember what I had written…

  And I love how everyone all agrees that Isa is cute.

  I don't intend to reveal Izzy's past this early, but oh well, it's not really a big deal, yet.

  God, I shoot myself in the foot. Why do I have to write in the Steam era? I have to study etiquette, the toilet (privy?), how they bathe, how they poop, how they speak, how a poor girl first sees a bathroom…. Poor me… If you found anything wrong, pls let me know, thanks!