Chapter 75
The eerie atmosphere felt both unfamiliar and strangely familiar. In front of her was a mansion that looked strikingly similar to the one she had seen in her dream a few days ago.
The massive wooden mansion, wrapped in vines, exuded an overwhelmingly heavy air.
The roses blooming wildly across the stone walls radiated a dangerous kind of beauty.
Even at a glance, it gave her an ominous feeling.
It was the kind of place where it wouldn’t be surprising if something terrible happened at any moment. Velia quietly studied the mansion.
It was the moment she lifted her foot to approach.
Tap.
“Kyaa!”
Something brushed against her shoulder, and Velia spun around with a start.
“You…”
The enormous tree towering beside her looked exactly like the one she had seen before losing consciousness—only its color was different.
No longer blood-red, but a normal brown, the tree’s thick trunk hinted at countless years of age.
“What in the world happened…?”
Velia raised her hand and brushed it over the tree.
Realizing she could actually touch it, she jerked her hand back in surprise.
As she stared at the scar-covered bark, something caught her eye—a small bit of fabric protruding from the side.
Velia stiffened.
Circling around the tree, she followed the fabric with her gaze—looking for its owner.
“…Carlton?”
Tied to the tree, the boy’s frail upper body was completely exposed, his skin in tatters.
His numerous wounds were so horrific that she didn’t even want to imagine what had happened to him.
His face was so pale he looked dead, yet a streak of dried blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
With wounds like that, the pain must’ve been unbearable—yet there was nothing in Carlton’s red eyes.
No pain. No will to escape. Nothing. Just empty hollowness.
It was truly horrifying.
“Ah.”
Velia quickly regained her senses and reached out to grab the rope binding Carlton to the tree.
“Carlton! Hey! Snap out of it, okay?”
At the sound of her voice, the boy slowly lifted his head.
Their eyes met—those lifeless red eyes made Velia panic, and she reached both arms toward him.
“It’s okay! No—wait—let me get you out first!”
For a brief moment, life flickered in Carlton’s gaze.
Velia struggled desperately to undo the rope, but it wouldn’t budge.
Just then, she heard footsteps behind her.
“You endured well.”
A crisp clap and a voice she recognized. Velia turned around.
Standing before her was the man whose appearance had not changed at all since the night of the fire.
“You’ve arrived, Vain.”
Following Carlton’s gaze, Velia realized two things:
First, that the stunning man before her was the very “Vain” Carlton always spoke of.
Second, that Carlton hadn’t been looking at her just now—he had been looking past her, at Vain approaching.
In that instant, the scene changed again.
Velia shut her eyes.
“…How annoying.”
A hysterical young girl’s voice rang out ahead of her as she staggered.
Velia opened her eyes and saw a child standing before her.
The girl had soft brown eyes and a cute face—but it was twisted with anger that didn’t suit her features at all.
“Why did Dad bring that kid here just to annoy me?! Why?! Why does everyone defend *him?! WHY?!”
The girl stomped her feet and threw everything she could grab onto the floor.
Despite her violent actions, her thin limbs held little threat.
Looking around at the tangled vines covering the window, Velia guessed she was still inside the mansion.
It was a dark, damp room—a place she’d refuse to live in even if someone paid her.
Still, there were traces that indicated it was a girl’s room—bedding and stuffed toys.
Velia took in the sparse surroundings, then turned her attention back to the raging child.
“AAAHHH!!!!”
“Whoa!”
The girl flung a stuffed toy at her—but it passed straight through Velia’s body.
Bruises and scars covered the girl’s arms and legs vividly.
Just as Velia was thinking the child’s scrawny, pale face looked oddly familiar, the door burst open.
“So annoying!!!”
“……”
Velia drew in a sharp breath.
It was Carlton—the same boy who had been tied to the tree.
This time, he was dressed, so his wounds weren’t visible, but his eyes were still lifeless.
“Why!”
“René.”
Velia, who had been moving toward Carlton, froze.
She slowly turned her head.
She examined the raging girl’s face carefully.
The gentle curve of her eyes atop that gaunt face—suddenly, someone from her memory surfaced.
That girl who used to mock her.
She looked nothing like the delicate flower she once was, yet now that Velia knew her identity, she recognized her instantly.
“René.”
Velia spoke the name she despised more than anything.
