Chapter 2

Chapter 2

No way. Come on… no way.

A ridiculous thought flickered through my mind, but I shook my head to dismiss it and followed the old man.

The mansion’s interior was staggeringly vast. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, scattering light in a fractured blaze, while carvings and ornaments lined every wall. Dazzled, I turned my head, taking in the house from every angle.

“A guest! Hee-hee!”

A young girl with her hair neatly braided called down to me from the banister above. Then she scampered off, disappearing behind a wall. Dressed in what was clearly an expensive gown, she must have been the family’s youngest daughter.

“You have a young lady?”

I muttered it idly to the back of the old man’s head. He turned slightly to glance at me, then faced forward and kept walking without a word.

What was that? Why no answer?

Puzzled, I followed him down the corridor. The long hallway was lined with paintings, as if to showcase the master’s refined taste. I slowed my steps, studying each one. When we reached the end, I noticed a single picture frame hanging crooked on the wall.

It was different from the rest. Every other piece in the corridor depicted people or objects, but this one was an abstract—no clear form, just vivid colors that seemed to leap out. I was no art critic, so I couldn’t say for sure if it was good, but I found myself liking the combination of hues.

I stared at the painting blankly, then reached out to straighten the tilted frame. But before my fingers could touch it, the old man turned to face me.

“Best not to touch it. That painting holds a soul.”

“What? A soul? You mean a spirit?”

“Yes. A soul. They say a man who loved that painting dearly still clings to it, even in death.”

I dropped my hand sharply. The old man gave a little smile and hurried on his way.

Was that a joke? Or not? What the hell? Why’s he trying to scare me?

I had no idea what he meant by that. Confusion coiled in my chest as I stared blankly at the old man’s retreating back.

“I apologize, but please wait here a moment.”

When we reached a door, the old man blocked me with one arm, then slipped inside. A creak as the hinges sang—the door opened and shut. I leaned quietly against the wall beside the frame, waiting for him to reemerge. That’s when the little girl I’d seen earlier sprinted past me.

Her feet pattered a wild rhythm as she ran from one end of the corridor to the other. Then she spun around and bolted back, again and again. I turned my head left and right, tracking her movements.

‘She’s sure energetic. Still, someone ought to teach her not to run indoors…’

If she were my little sister, she’d have gotten a stern scolding by now. But she was someone else’s child, and other people’s kids weren’t my business. So I said nothing—just watched her play. Then, after a long while of racing around, she suddenly stopped right in front of me. She stood perfectly still, like a frozen frame.

‘What’s with her? Why’s she doing that?’

I stared at her. In that instant, she whipped her head toward me—only her head, neck craned ninety degrees in a grotesque twist—and looked right at me.

“You can see me?!”

“Uh…?”

*Shit.* I knew it. That eerie chill I’d felt when I first stepped into this mansion—it wasn’t just my imagination. This place was a house haunted by ghosts.

“You see me! You see me! There’s someone else who sees me?!”

The little ghost bounced up and down with glee.

‘Oh… no. No, I don’t. I really don’t see anything. Please don’t do this to me.’

I lowered my gaze at once, praying she’d lose interest. But my hope was laughable—she shoved her face right up close to mine, peering at me from every angle.

“Good! I like you!”

I had no idea what I’d done to earn her favor, but apparently, I’d just won over a ghost. For crying out loud. At a place like my own home—nicknamed the Ghost House—I’d never actually laid eyes on a single spirit. And now here I was, in this spacious, pristine mansion that looked like it couldn’t possibly harbor any grudges, face-to-face with a ghost.

I silently scrambled through every god I’d learned of in my past life and this one, praying: *Please, just make her disappear from in front of me.*

“Guest, please come in. The Master wishes to see you.”

I had my eyes squeezed shut when the old man emerged like a savior and called me in. *Amen. You’ve delivered me.* Sitting with other people had to be better than a one-on-one with a ghost. I slipped quickly into the room. The little girl ghost, mercifully, didn’t follow me inside. Instead, she seemed to start thumping and stamping again out in the hall.

I could actually hear it now—that ghost was terrifyingly strong. What was something like that doing in a place like this?!

“Name?”

I was still trying to steady myself when a low, weighty voice cut through the air. I looked up. A man sat across from me, dressed with a compulsively neat precision that bordered on paranoid. He was handsome enough, but the deep shadows beneath his eyes told a story of bone-deep exhaustion… Wait.

Uh, sir? You’ve got a ghost attached to you back there.

A shapeless black haze coiled around his shoulders, writhing relentlessly like it was dancing to its own manic rhythm.

“I asked your name.”

“…Laura Highen.”

He repeated the question, and I blurted the answer out. But my eyes were fixed on that black smoke. Right behind his right shoulder, it formed a long, catlike tail—then tilted toward me, peering.

Oh. This is… actually kind of terrifying.

For a second I seriously considered punching myself unconscious. But if I woke up with ghosts staring at me again, that would be a nightmare I didn’t want. So I forced myself to calm down, cleared my throat, and steadied my voice.

“Actually, I don’t think I can work here after all. I’m sorry, but I’ll be leaving now. Butler, could you please show me to the door?”

I turned to the old man as I said it. He just shrugged and stayed silent.

“Hello? I asked you to escort me. The place is huge—I won’t find my way out alone.”

He still didn’t answer. What the hell? No way—was he the one babbling about ghost-infused paintings earlier?

On a hunch, I grabbed his arm. My fingers met solid, well-built muscle under the sleeve. An impressive physique. At least he wasn’t a ghost.

Then why weren’t you answering me?

I shot him a resentful glare. He glanced back, then tilted his chin toward the front of the room.

I turned my head. The tired-looking young man was staring right at me, his expression so murderous it looked like he was about to charge into enemy lines and take the general’s head.

And the black haze behind him had swelled even larger than before—flaring and blazing like fire shot up around his shoulders and above his head.

Was that a background effect or what…?

Wreathed in those smoke effects, he’d gone from general to final boss crawling straight out of hell. But then something struck me as weird. Usually, ghosts don’t latch onto people with strong energy. But this guy—look at him from any angle, turn him upside down—still radiated filthy temper and overwhelming presence. I quietly slipped behind the butler’s back and studied him like a specimen.

How had that black smoke come to cling so stubbornly to the man’s back? And did he even know a ghost had latched onto him?

Well. None of my business. Once I was out of this place, it wouldn’t matter.

I gave a small nod at that thought.

“Let’s say you start tomorrow.”

But then the man in front of me said something that made a mockery of my resignation. Wait—hadn’t I just told him I couldn’t take the job?

“Excuse me?”

“The work won’t be difficult. Managing my schedule and sorting a few documents, that’s all.”

“Ah. Yes. The work sounds simple enough. But as I mentioned earlier, I really don’t think I’m suited for employment here—”

“The pay is five hundred florins.”

“I am prepared to be an excellent employee.”

I shot out from behind the butler’s back without a second thought. Five hundred florins! That was over three times the monthly wage a commoner maid could expect. Of course, I was technically a noble on paper, so the situation was different, but still—that was no small sum.

Yes. Money moved me.