Chapter 1
A crumbling old mansion clung to the edge of a cliff, swallowed by a pale mist.
Inside, mold-stained walls and antique furniture sat beneath a thick layer of dust, and an inexplicable, chilling air seeped through the place at all times.
It was the kind of place where a ghost could pop out at any moment and no one would be surprised…
“Isabel! Isabel!”
“……”
Yes, this was…
“Isabeeeel~!”
…damn it.
The voice calling her name to the point of running out of breath ruined the perfectly spooky atmosphere Isabel had been cultivating.
Suppressing the irritation that was bubbling up, she turned her head and spotted a middle-aged man trembling like a leaf behind a statue.
After glancing nervously around the empty hallway once more, he asked in a low voice:
“W-well? Is it really here?”
“Hmm.”
Isabel brushed her fingertips along the peeling wall and nodded.
“Definitely not an ordinary one. Looks like it’s carrying a deep grudge.”
“Bloody hell! Of all things, a ghost! Do you know how much I spent buying this villa?!”
Count Oteer’s face went pale as he began to ramble.
In short, here was the story:
Not long ago, he had spent a fortune to buy a villa out in the countryside, only to discover it was a haunted hotspot where strange phenomena occurred every night.
For example—a vase falling from the table for no reason, or the sound of weeping in an empty room.
Frankly, it was such a cliché that it almost made her yawn.
“Isabel, don’t just stand there—do something! I’m paying you, aren’t I?!”
Count Oteer tugged at the hem of her black dress in a small fit.
“I didn’t hire you—an expert in ghosts—for nothing!”
His loud, raspy voice filled the long hallway.
With an annoyed expression, Isabel sharply slapped his plump hand away.
Great. Now there’s a wrinkle in my brand-new dress.
Silently vowing to add a dry-cleaning fee to his bill, she dusted off her skirt and retorted coolly:
“Count Oteer, your voice is so loud, you’re liable to scare all the ghosts out of hiding.”
“Eek!”
The Count jumped like a startled frog and hastily clamped both hands over his mouth. His bulging eyes darted around in fear.
So scared he’s shaking, yet still managing to be a nuisance.
Isabel gave him a withering look before turning away.
“I’ll have a word with the ghost now. As you know, under no circumstances should you come into the bedroom.”
At her ominous warning, he nodded vigorously, his head bobbing up and down.
Click, clack.
As Isabel entered the bedroom, a tiny, trembling voice followed her:
“I-Isabel! Please exorcise it! You can do it!”
Click.
Isabel locked the bedroom door firmly and shook her head.
After this job, she was definitely going to have Sophia start a client blacklist.
Anyway…
Her listless eyes sharpened in an instant.
In that moment, blue smoke began to drift up from the darkness, and her ashen eyes slowly glowed with an eerie violet light.
Do Hana’s new novel, Invisible Whispers, gets slammed by critics… Is her glory days over?
Peering at her laptop screen, Hana bit her lower lip and clicked the article.
[assy91] Honestly, her writing isn’t what it used to be. Feels like she just stitched together scary stories.
[Disappointed -_-] Can’t believe I wasted my time reading it. She’s washed up lol.
[RetireDoHana] I heard she didn’t publish for years because she was in a slump.
Clack!
Hana, unable to stomach the comments under the blatant hit-piece article, slammed her laptop shut.
“Where did they even get that rumor?”
Invisible Whispers was her first release in three years. And the reason for the gap was exactly what those comments had said.
A crippling slump.
“All because of this damned… condition!”
Do Hana, famous horror novelist, had one fatal secret—she couldn’t feel fear.
No matter how many bestselling horror novels she read, how many terrifying videos she watched, or even when she personally visited allegedly haunted ruins, none of it was enough to make her afraid.
At first, she thought it was no big deal. But eventually, it became the biggest shackle on her career.
Without knowing what parts scared readers, it was extremely difficult to create that crucial dramatic tension.
A horror writer who couldn’t feel fear—it was like a chef who couldn’t taste food, or a perfumer who couldn’t smell.
From that point on, Hana began to study fear.
She consumed every so-called scary novel, film, and drama she could find.
If she couldn’t feel it, she would at least understand it logically.
But there was a limit to that.
She was staring at the mountain of books piled in the corner of her room when—
Ding-dong.
The sudden chime of the doorbell made her heart jolt.
A visitor at this hour? She turned toward the front door.
Who the heck comes at this hour? Some drunk?
She was ready to ignore it, thinking they’d gotten the wrong address—
Ding-dong.
The bell rang again.
“…Who is it?”
Frowning, Hana got up.
At that moment, the previously silent desk clock began blaring loudly.
Riiiiiing!
Startled, she turned her head, eyes narrowing.
[am. 04:44]
Why would the alarm go off at this time…?
Ding-dong!
Even in that short moment, the bell kept ringing, urging her to come.
“Just a second.”
She hastily turned off the alarm and went to the door. Pressing her eye to the peephole—
What the… there’s no one there.
Only darkness. She opened the door a crack.
Pitch-black night. No sign of anyone.
Probably a drunk after all.
She began closing the door—when her foot bumped into something.
“What’s this?”
Bending down, she picked up a small square box and examined it.
A textbook I ordered?
So the rumors about delivery workers working day and night were true.
She set the package on the table and, almost in a daze, peeled off the tape.
It was surprisingly heavy—and inside was a thick book.
A frown of confusion formed on her face.
“…Did I order something like this?”
The Duke of Herphelder’s Daughter Who Sees Ghosts? Doesn’t even sound scary—why would I buy this?
Tilting her head, Hana opened the first page.
A long, long time ago, a terrible curse befell the Herphelder Dukedom of the Celesio Empire—the birth of a daughter who could see ghosts…
Just as she was about to get bored with the typical dark fairy-tale opening—
“…Ugh.”
A sudden, piercing headache made her drop the book.
The pain was so sharp it felt like her skull was being drilled, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she collapsed onto the desk.
Through her blurred vision, the text on the page swam and twisted together.
The daughter’s name was…
“…Isabel! Isabel!”
Bang bang bang!
The sound of someone pounding on the door shattered her deep recollection.
Ugh, this nuisance.
Cursing inwardly, Isabel turned to glare at the door.
Now what?
“Isabel! Are you done yet? I’m scared being alone… sniff.”
…Is he crying?
The sight of a balding, pot-bellied man sniveling about being scared made her skin crawl.
To Isabel, that was a million times scarier than any ghost.
“…Do not come in here.”
Reissuing her warning, Isabel swept her hair back from her face and let out a long sigh.
Anyway, to continue what she was saying earlier—the name of the cursed daughter of the Herphelder Dukedom was Isabel d’Herphelder.
And as you’ve probably guessed, Hana had possessed Isabel’s body.
That had happened a full year ago.
