Chapter 134

Chapter 134

“Uh… hyung? Is it because I took your head? I’m sorry.”

Flustered by the man’s sudden tears, Shion spoke in an uneasy voice. She quickly shoved the head she was holding back toward him. But I knew it wasn’t Shion’s action that was the problem. The headless ghost was crying because of me—because I’d cornered him emotionally.

“Uh… well…”

I felt a pang of awkwardness and tried to say something—anything—to him. But I had no idea what words to form. Maybe I should start with an apology right now. Regardless of who he was in life, the fact that I’d hurt him stirred a heavy guilt inside me. Without realizing it, I bit down hard on my lip and clasped my hands together. I had no more courage left to interrogate him. And yet, the thought that I still had to help Madam ascend churned violently through my mind.

“Hey.”

Then, the Duke rapped on the table with a sharp tap-tap, fixing his gaze on the headless ghost. The ghost flinched, curling his whole body inward. It was a pitiful sight, but the Duke paid it no mind. In a flat, matter-of-fact tone, he pressed on.

“Give us some kind of explanation. Frankly, I don’t care if your story is worth all those tears. All we know is that you were a killer. If you don’t want to be exorcised, try to argue that you’re not a threat. Though I can’t say I’ll believe it.”

His voice was cold and cutting. The headless man immediately reached for the Book of Souls. Then he started assembling letters, one by one.

〈I’m… sorry. …I’m sorry. I’m… sorry. I’m… sorry.〉

His fingers kept circling back to the same characters. But he couldn’t add a single word in response to the Duke’s question. He was flustered, agonized. Overwhelmed by emotion, he trembled as though he couldn’t control himself. Then, as if making a sudden decision, he moved his hand. Whether from nerves or not, his movements were excruciatingly slow—far slower than usual. But the Duke and I both followed the tip of his finger with our eyes.

〈I’ve… tried leaving the manor… several times. I couldn’t… leave on my own. It seems… impossible unless… someone takes me out. ……I can’t leave… It’s only after death… that I feel… peace. I wish… I could fully feel this peace… and just… dissolve away… like wind… wears down stone.〉

Of course, I couldn’t hear his voice. But I could feel the emotional plea in his words. Maybe it’s because I’m weak. His frantic, desperate look kept stirring something unsettled inside me.

“Troublesome. I can’t leave you here. If you plan on keeping your mouth shut, forget it. I’ll summon a priest to perform an exorcism tomorrow.”

The Duke, on the other hand, was utterly resolute. After spouting those terse words, he moved to rise. The headless man flailed both hands in panic. Then, almost in resignation, he let them drop. And once more, he brought his fingertips to the Book of Souls.

〈Then… exorcise me.〉

What? What did he just say?

The man’s answer caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected it at all. For a moment, I was genuinely thrown. Clearly, he couldn’t leave this place on his own—the threat hadn’t worked. But telling me to exorcise him? That was strange. He’d wanted so badly to stay in the land of the living. Wasn’t giving up awfully quick?

“Why? You said you wanted to stay here as long as possible. At least try to make an excuse—say you’re not dangerous.”

I spoke to him with a note of puzzlement in my voice. I guess I wanted him to defend himself. But he didn’t. Instead, he just kept sighing, tapping at the Book of Souls like a man who’d abandoned all hope.

〈I… understand. I… killed a man. You can… think of me as… dangerous… I’m a murderer.〉

A murderer’s soul. Yeah, that was dangerous all right. Maybe the reason for the killing—or the act itself—had become his lingering attachment. If that was what bound him here even in death, then he was a threat. No question.

That’s probably why I felt it. I kept wanting to ask what had happened to him. I was curious about the reason for the murder, the emotions behind it. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask anything—not when he was trembling like that.

“No… forget it.”

So I just sighed and got to my feet. Then, like I was tossing something aside, I pulled out a thought that had been sitting in my mind.

“…Don’t worry. I can’t do exorcisms.”

Well, it wasn’t a lie. Telling him I’d exorcise him had been a bluff anyway. No priest would exorcise a soul that wasn’t even an evil spirit. I’d have to find another way to send this headless man off. And soon. My head was starting to throb, honestly.

But just then, the man in front of me started waving his hands like he wanted me to wait. Naturally, my eyes settled on him.

〈I…〉

He tapped the Book of Souls again and formed another sentence.

〈…As you know, while I was alive, I… killed my master. Jeymon Aujentes… that’s… right.〉

And that was the start of a story about his life—a story I’d assumed he’d keep buried. It seemed he’d had a sudden change of heart.

‘Is this really okay…?’

Feeling a bit uneasy, I kept watching him in silence. The headless ghost then continued his story calmly. According to the sentences he typed out, his life had gone like this.

He’d worked for House Aujentes since birth. Then, when he was about fifteen, he became the personal attendant of Jeymon Aujentes—the second son of the house. Jeymon was a tall, strikingly handsome man. And he was kind to everyone, so most people liked him, it was said.

But not to Edan. Jeymon Aujentes was a man of deep cruelty, one who hid it from the world and let it all out through Edan alone. Every night, he’d beat Edan with a long whip. And of course, Edan could not resist. He was property — Jeymon’s property.

〈The reasons… were absurd. ‘Because I can’t bear it unless I strike,’ he’d say… that was it… Then he’d weep… kiss my hand… and beg God for forgiveness…〉

I read his words in silence. The aching story made me frown before I knew it. The duke, too, winced and dragged a hand down his face. Yet even now, the headless ghost kept unspooling his tale.

Then came a day when his body was too broken to move. The wounds had gone deep, fever burning through him. He could only lie in his room, unable to stir. But suddenly, Jeymon Aujentes came for him — whip in hand. Edan saw his master, yet couldn’t even offer a greeting. Not a single finger could he move.

〈Master… just watched me… lying there. Then he smiled… like he might tear me apart. As if amused, he poked my face… my body with his fingers… then stripped me. His fingertips tracing my wounds… they were… lewd.〉

Jeymon Aujentes gnawed at Edan, slow and relentless. When it was over, his master beat him with the whip, taking pleasure in laying fresh wounds over the ones still raw. Edan felt he might die right then. So he cast his gaze around, seeking help, and met the eyes of servants standing by the door. But they just looked away, pretending not to see.

Somehow, Edan didn’t die that night. He lay ill for days, but eventually found the strength to rise again. Yet he knew — someday, his master’s hands would finish him. It wasn’t that his life was precious. What terrified him was being reborn after death. Every life he remembered had been wretched, and he was certain his next would be no different.

A life lost to a carriage accident — legs crushed, stoned to death. A life sold to a brothel. A life that ended too young. A life spent trapped inside four walls… All those reincarnations had led him here. If he died again and was reborn, what fresh misery awaited? What was he supposed to do?

His mind could no longer hold itself together. All he wanted was to be happy. And so, he couldn’t die.

〈I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… That’s why… I killed him. It wasn’t an accident… or a mistake. I just… killed him.〉

A frank confession of murder. For a moment, my throat closed up, choked.

“Why… are you telling me this?”

〈I… I suppose that’s how it had to be. It’s not that I heard you couldn’t perform exorcism… No. I’ve been… happiest here. But you, the masters of this house… I think I’ve been making you uneasy. Truth is… I only ever spoke of my… misfortunes. I never told you that I was… consumed by that unhappiness, that I committed a crime. I wanted you to see me as… pitiable. But it was a story I couldn’t hide forever… You’re right. I’m a murderer.〉

“……”

〈I… but from now on, I’ll stay still. I won’t do anything… If you want, I won’t even walk around. Please… don’t be afraid of me.〉

For an instant, his heart sank like a stone being dragged down by a heavy boulder. Perhaps because he was moved by her, he found her rather pitiable, after all.

“I had no idea… such a thing had happened.”

The room’s atmosphere settled into a heavy quiet. I gritted my teeth, crushed beneath the silence. It struck me then—if the headless man had laid everything bare, I owed him honesty in return. I couldn’t just drive him away with threats; we needed to share the same direction of thought.