Confined Together with the Horror Game’s Male Lead - Chapter 118
Chapter 118
Translator: Yonnee
—
“Let’s quickly check the other rooms.”
“Charlotte, we agreed to visit only three rooms a day. This is the third one.”
“…So you’re saying you won’t go now?”
“Once you’re fully recovered, we’ll go together.”
Such lack of cooperation.
I was hurrying because I was worried Dietrich’s condition would worsen, but he didn’t understand my urgency at all, making this a perfect case of being on completely different pages.
“I know why you’re so anxious. You’re hurrying because you want to recover your memory, right?”
Yes. That’s what you should be doing right now.
“So, I’ve been thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“What if I tell you what you don’t remember?”
What kind of boldness is this?
I sat down on a nearby chair, pretending to be uninterested.
What’s the point of learning about fabricated memories?
“Your shoelaces are untied.”
“Then why don’t you tie them for me?”
I said it offhandedly, but Dietrich kneeled down without hesitation.
Startled, I tried to pull my foot back, but he familiarly grabbed my ankle and placed it on his thigh.
“…Has this happened often?”
“You did treat me like a servant, yes.”
Why would you date someone like that?
And as I’ve been noticing, these fabricated memories are unnecessarily vivid.
Maybe it’s a story from his ex-girlfriend.
Fine. Let’s hear what he has to say.
“Alright. What are you going to tell me?”
“Hm. Where should I start? Ah, right. Let me tell you about the first time I saw you.”
Dietrich started tying my shoelaces skillfully while talking.
“It was a certain portrait.”
“…A portrait?”
“It was once famous. A portrait done by a disciple of Santorini. Many artists were invited to work on the portrait, and naturally, most people thought Santorini would paint your portrait.”
…Wait a minute.
This story sounds familiar.
“Continue.”
“Are you interested in the story?”
“Yes. So keep talking.”
When I showed interest in his story, a gentle smile appeared on his lips.
“Despite being a disciple of a master, it was hard to understand why an unknown artist was commissioned to paint the portrait of such a prestigious family. But when the portrait was completed and a party was held at the mansion, many people who were invited saw the portrait.”
“…And then?”
“Naturally, everyone fell in love with that portrait. I did too. The moment I saw it, I was entranced and couldn’t stop looking.”
Dietrich described the event as if he had actually experienced it.
“When I saw the portrait, I became very curious about the lady in the painting. She seemed aloof, but I imagined she had a warm heart. If she were to smile at me, I thought it would make me very happy. I was very curious about her.”
“…So, did you meet her?”
“Yes, I did.”
A joyful smile appeared on Dietrich’s lips as he reminisced about that day.
“I was desperately hoping to meet her, and then she appeared at the party.”
“What was she like when you met her in person?”
“She was a very remarkable lady. She shocked everyone present.”
What on earth did she do?
Dietrich, lost in his own memories, let out a small laugh.
“The angelic lady from the painting came into the party holding a small knife.”
…A knife?
“The party was held to celebrate the lady’s birthday. She immediately inspected each gift that came to her, and if she didn’t like it, she tore it apart without hesitation.”
That’s truly terrible.
Perhaps Dietrich’s memories aren’t simply fabricated.
It strongly felt like his vivid delusion might be related to the memories of the lady in the diary.
“I still remember. I was so nervous standing in front of her with my gift. I had prepared a small headband. It was the most modest gift, so I thought she would surely trample it underfoot.”
“……”
“But the lady glanced at me and said, ‘This is the best one,’ and graciously wore my headband.”
Dietrich looked up and met my eyes.
“That lady was you.”
…What?
* * *
Dietrich, at the age of fourteen.
He wanted to meet the girl his age again.
And that wish soon came true.
Dietrich met Charlotte again at an execution site.
It was the execution of the painter who had drawn the portrait that had impressed him so much.
The girl was crying there.
“What are you hesitating about, Dietrich?”
His friend, Alt, approached him as he reminisced about the distant past.
“You promised to kill that woman.”
“……”
“She isn’t human.”
What is he talking about? Charlotte was alive right in front of him.
…Or was she?
Hadn’t she… already… long ago…?
“Kill her now. She’s a monster wearing the face of your beloved.”
Dietrich knew it too.
That the ‘Charlotte’ in front of him was an undead.
With those words, Dietrich nodded heavily.
He wouldn’t delay any longer.
Tomorrow, he would definitely kill her.
Want to read more? Advanced chapters are available on Patreon! (for selected novels only)
≪ Discord ≫
≪ Novel Updates ≫
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
Kurkai
They really did turn the tables