CHAPTER 07

Terry was finding it harder and harder to predict what lay ahead. Just how many hidden elements were buried in the game’s underbelly?

All she knew about Claude was that he was a war hero revered across the Empire, the Emperor’s beloved nephew, and the cherished youngest son of a powerful duke.

Not only that—though nothing had been placed on his young shoulders yet, the crown of Izaris was supposed to be his eventually.

But here? He was nothing more than the local libido-less man.

What the hell…?

“If a man’s that handsome, shouldn’t he at least be putting that face to use? That body too? What’s the point of being hot if you’re basically a eunuch? That’s a tragedy. A literal disaster.”

Terry couldn’t bring herself to say, Actually, I played the game and none of this was in there, so she opted to vaguely defend Claude instead.

“Th-that’s… probably not true. I don’t think he’s, like, had his libido erased or anything. There’s no actual proof…”

“No proof? What, have you slept with him?”

But it was impossible to compete with Bridget’s absolutely unfiltered way of speaking.

“I mean, a hundred people have tried hitting on him a hundred times and he never bites, so I asked—real persistent, too—if maybe he didn’t like women. And what does he say? ‘I’m just not interested in women at all.’ Like, what?!”

Bridget spat as she ranted, declaring she’d done all the investigating needed.

“He doesn’t even drink, so I couldn’t even try getting him drunk to loosen him up.”

The way she spoke of near-criminal acts so casually was almost impressive. Terry wanted to remind her that attempted coercion was a crime and that men had human rights too—but Bridget’s shrill voice barrelled right past any rebuttal.

“And now, every time he sees me, he’s all yap yap yap! Says I talk too much and I’m annoying. That bastard’s tongue is a disaster too!”

She cursed him viciously, saying a guy like that should grow old and die alone.

“I didn’t think he seemed that bad…”

But Terry still wanted to defend Claude.

This wasn’t a dating sim—it was a classic RPG. There was no reason for the protagonist to waste time on romance when he could be slaying another monster instead.

More importantly, Claude was her only ticket out of here. He was the sole key to escaping this game world. She had to at least clear his name from this weird rumor.

“Maybe he’s just shy. I talked to him briefly yesterday, and he admitted he has trouble being warm and friendly.”

“Ugh, and I’m supposed to care why? That’s his problem, not mine. I’m naturally rude, too, but when I sell cars, I pretend to be friendly anyway.”

“Still, people come in all kinds, you know—”

“Do we count psychos as just another personality type now?”

“I mean, it’s diversity—”

“How do you chalk that kind of freak show up to diversity?”

“You really are yap yap yap, aren’t you?”

Bridget was so full of fury, she even stomped her feet.

She raged about how this arrogant outsider was planning to take over her homeland, and how she’d eliminate him the moment the chance came.

“If we leave things as they are, he’s going to take over everything. That damned eunuch is gonna steal my country. You think I’m gonna sit around and watch that happen? He’s the biggest obstacle in my way. Oh, and you’re second. He’s number one.”

There was no need to assign rankings, really.

“Great. Thanks for promising to kill me second.”

“If that bastard ever gets murdered, don’t bother investigating. I’ll turn myself in, butt-naked and dancing.”

Bridget might’ve been exaggerating, but it was clear Claude was far more hated by the mages than Terry had expected.

Usually, a protagonist gets buffs and favoritism.

What the hell is going on here?

For a protagonist to have rock-bottom approval like this…

How the hell am I ever going to reach the ending and escape at this rate?

The game’s ending required Claude to lift the curse and ascend as the new king of Izaris.

But right now? His approval rating was in the negatives. He had no regional support or admiration. Reaching the ending felt like climbing an endless mountain.

“How about we start rebuilding the Old City ourselves?”

Terry decided to handle what she could manage on her end, helping Claude from behind the scenes.

“Better than just sitting around griping about how bad things are. I mean, this is our land too, right?”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Isn’t there anything valuable left inside the castle?”

The “ruined castle” deep in the Black Forest—the old royal palace. Surely it still held mountains of treasure stored over generations.

It wasn’t like Terry could take that money back to the real world. She might as well put it to use here.

“The old castle? Oh, it’s probably packed with stuff.”

“Then let’s ransack the place.”

“But we don’t have the key to the storage rooms.”

“Key?”

When Terry asked what she meant, Bridget shot back, “The treasure vault key. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

Apparently, there had been a couple in charge of the treasure vault—astrologers. The wife died during the fall of the castle, but the husband survived. A greedy man, he’d taken the key with him. Or more accurately, a card that functioned as the key.

Terry didn’t need to hear the rest to guess what happened.

“He ran off with it, didn’t he?”

“Well, duh. Who wouldn’t?”

“And you just let him go?”

“What was I supposed to do? No one can get into the castle now anyway. That place is the source of the curse. It’s crawling with monsters you can’t even imagine. The key’s worthless now.”

In other words, chasing the guy down would be a waste of time.

Even so, Terry didn’t waver.

“Where is he now?”

“Why?”

“I told you—I’m going after the treasure.”

“I’m telling you, you can’t get into the castle.”

“That’s my problem.”

Bridget’s explanation was accurate: the castle was inaccessible to players with weak stats. Only by progressing through the game’s linked quests could you unlock a way in during the final stages.

The final boss, a dragon, guarded the Royal Library—the last chamber inside the castle.

But Terry saw that as an advantage.

As long as I can get Claude in there somehow, we’re set, right?

The game couldn’t end without defeating the final boss. If she brought Claude along and helped him take down the dragon early, they could grab the treasure and speedrun to the ending.

That would be good for the mages, good for Claude, and great for her—a perfect plan where everyone wins.

“So, do you know where the husband is or not?”

“Hmph. And if I do? What are you going to do with that petty thief now?”

“Cleaning up leftovers is the heir’s duty.”

“Hah. Look at you, suddenly trying to act like a princess. Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“Even if it’s late, it’s still worth doing, right?”

When Bridget said the word duty, Terry’s mind flashed to Ansi’s warm hugs, Marsha and Lily’s encouragement, and the villagers who’d run up in tears when she first arrived.

Even Bridget herself—who’d said she remembered her and invited her into the wagon with a smile.

Terry didn’t deserve to do anything princess-like for these people.

Because she wasn’t really a princess.

But maybe—just maybe—this much was something she could do. Returning their treasure. Taking responsibility for at least that much.

“You’re right. It’s not like I can do anything truly princess-worthy at this point. All I can really do is take care of the scraps others didn’t bother with. It’s not much. But maybe that’s my duty now. And maybe that’s the kind of compensation you deserve.”

It might not be much, but if it could ease even a little of their exhaustion and past pain, she wanted to help.

“So tell me—where is he?”

Bridget stared at her in silence for a long moment, like grass stuck in her teeth. Then she spat it out.

“I don’t know where he is right now.”

“Good enough. I’ll find him myself.”

“No, wait! I said right now! I used to know where he was!”

“Where was he?”

“I’ll tell you, but only if we make a deal. One condition each. Fair trade.”

Now what?

Terry rejected it immediately. If it wasn’t even current information, she didn’t need to hear it from Bridget.

“So basically, you’re saying you’re no help.”

“Ugh, it’s not like that! Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine. I’ll listen. What’s the favor?”

Once given the opening, Bridget raced forward and started yapping at full speed. “You know that place I mentioned earlier—the wine bar in the New City?”

“It’s not just a wine bar—it’s the hottest social club right now. All the up-and-coming types and Valoran nobles hang out there. It’s the it spot.”

“Okay… and?”

“I’m planning to go cause a scene. And I want you to come with me. That’s my condition.”

…What?

“Come again?”

“I wanna go in there and throw sewage water on those noble bastards.”

“…Are you insane?”

So the favor was to help her cause a disturbance and disrupt someone’s business? This wasn’t just ridiculous—it was criminal.

“You’re the real psycho here.”

“It’s nothing major! You just have to show up and act like a princess. That’s it! I want to borrow your royal aura. Let them bask in your glow for a sec. What are they gonna do if a princess throws a tantrum?”

Unbelievable. Now she wanted to commit crimes under the aura of royalty?

And she called herself a friend?

“That princess title’s been long retired, you know.”

“Not yet it hasn’t. It still works. You’re the only one in a position to put those bastards in their place. And your reputation’s already in the gutter—what’ve you got to lose?”

Was that supposed to be comforting?

Terry stared at her. If only she could sew Bridget’s yap shut.