Suddenly, he realized that the hypnotic scent did not work on this girl. Before he could even think about what that meant, the clear, unadorned voice continued.
"Wouldn't you like to hear it once, Master? And tell me your opinion. No matter what you say, nonsense or bad, I won't get angry."
He decided to listen to it. After listening to it, he just laughed. King Lear, one of Shakespeare's four major tragedies, had a happy ending with the outstanding heroic story of the unfortunate princess Cordelia. It seemed out of the blue and ridiculous, but if you listen closely, it was a somewhat plausible ending. He wondered how other tragedies would have ridiculously comical and cheerful endings.
Maybe that was why. For the first time, he didn't throw Remedy out after 30 minutes. Unlike before, the seventh girl stayed in his room for two hours. The refreshments that Mrs. Dunst had prepared in advance were also gone.
The girl stayed another hour and then went back, saying that in a week she would bring him notes in which she had scribbled down different versions of Hamlet and the Odyssey.
After this, he laughed to himself while listening to the overly original second Hamlet and the Odyssey adaptation. Then he asked her personal questions about the girl. Even when she told him some trivial and worthless personal stories, her tone was sweet as honey and fragrant as a flower.
Her very presence had a great influence on his mind and body. Whenever she was behind the curtain, his soul felt as if it was flying, happy and ecstatic. At the same time, his body was always engulfed in an unknown heat, and at such times, he could not even control his lower body properly.
When she told him the story of the priestess Sibyl of Kumae, he felt as if he had found his lost half-soul. He thought he would never forget that moment when she spoke so openly about eternal life and the inherent beauty and value of the finite.
Kyle ordered Mrs. Dunst to increase the girl's visits from once a week to three times a week. Angie Ridsdel's significance in his work grew bigger and bigger. From the moment he was a child, no, from the moment he was born, in a hell that had been repeated over and over again, her presence had become his only joy and hope.
When she was around, it was like a broken clock. How could time pass so quickly? Every day, just breathing and surviving, was so boring and miserable that it was almost killing him, but the days Angie came were different.
As the visiting day approached and Angie's arrival at the mansion drew near, Kyle's heart clenched with emotions he had never felt before. Excitement, anticipation, and nervousness.
A few months later, that feeling soon turned into bottomless guilt and another pain. At the moment when the girl's existence was about to become the only happiness that supported his life, he asked his father, whom he had not seen for months.
"Father. What exactly is a remedy? If someone... is selected as my remedy, what happens to that woman?"
"Why do you use the word 'if'? Your remedy has already been decided, Kyle."
"It's already been decided...?"
"Your choice has already been made. You liked that girl named Angie. The verification results were a good match, and if you can relate to each other, the effect will be even better. There is no turning back now. Your blood has chosen that girl."
With those words, Father Edward went into another fit. Kyle knew intuitively that his father did not have much time left. It would be only a few years at most.
Deep in the night, he cautiously stepped into the secret vault hidden deep underground. With one leg limping, it was not easy to walk down the long stairs.
But he had to find out about Remedy, or more precisely, about Remedy's role. Ever since his father Edward collapsed without giving him an answer, something greater than pity and sorrow for his father had taken hold of him and would not let him go.
After two months of searching through the books in the library and his grandfather's records every night and three months after Angie began coming to the mansion, he finally unraveled the mystery of Remedy.
Eugenia Blackwell, his biological mother who died giving birth to him prematurely, was also a Remedy. She was the Remedy of his father, Edward.
After learning of other brutal facts, past events, and future events, Kyle threw the books in the library against the walls and floor like a madman. He tore at his hair and cried like a madman for a long time.
The deep and solid walls of the basement silently swallowed his maddening anger. Even before he knew about the 'thing' that existed in the basement of the main mansion, he was shivering from the abject despair.
The next day, he sent Angie home. During the reading, he yelled at her to leave and threw her out of the room. Louis told her to go back because the young master didn't seem to be feeling well, and Angie turned around with a worried, gloomy face.
Kyle looked out the window at Angie as she walked toward the carriage, her shoulders hunched. Without even turning his head, he spoke to his confidant behind him.
"Louis. Don't let Angie come here anymore. I'll change the remedy."
"That is impossible, Master. The child is already a remedy."
"If I want to change it, change it! That's an order!'
"It is impossible to turn back. Even if it is Edward's order..."
"It's impossible. You can replace it with another remedy!"
"It's never easy to find a replacement, Master. No child fits your constitution as well as she does. Of course, I'll have to secure an emergency remedy soon, but for now, that child is the best."
"Wouldn't you like to hear it once, Master? And tell me your opinion. No matter what you say, nonsense or bad, I won't get angry."
He decided to listen to it. After listening to it, he just laughed. King Lear, one of Shakespeare's four major tragedies, had a happy ending with the outstanding heroic story of the unfortunate princess Cordelia. It seemed out of the blue and ridiculous, but if you listen closely, it was a somewhat plausible ending. He wondered how other tragedies would have ridiculously comical and cheerful endings.
Maybe that was why. For the first time, he didn't throw Remedy out after 30 minutes. Unlike before, the seventh girl stayed in his room for two hours. The refreshments that Mrs. Dunst had prepared in advance were also gone.
The girl stayed another hour and then went back, saying that in a week she would bring him notes in which she had scribbled down different versions of Hamlet and the Odyssey.
After this, he laughed to himself while listening to the overly original second Hamlet and the Odyssey adaptation. Then he asked her personal questions about the girl. Even when she told him some trivial and worthless personal stories, her tone was sweet as honey and fragrant as a flower.
Her very presence had a great influence on his mind and body. Whenever she was behind the curtain, his soul felt as if it was flying, happy and ecstatic. At the same time, his body was always engulfed in an unknown heat, and at such times, he could not even control his lower body properly.
When she told him the story of the priestess Sibyl of Kumae, he felt as if he had found his lost half-soul. He thought he would never forget that moment when she spoke so openly about eternal life and the inherent beauty and value of the finite.
Kyle ordered Mrs. Dunst to increase the girl's visits from once a week to three times a week. Angie Ridsdel's significance in his work grew bigger and bigger. From the moment he was a child, no, from the moment he was born, in a hell that had been repeated over and over again, her presence had become his only joy and hope.
When she was around, it was like a broken clock. How could time pass so quickly? Every day, just breathing and surviving, was so boring and miserable that it was almost killing him, but the days Angie came were different.
As the visiting day approached and Angie's arrival at the mansion drew near, Kyle's heart clenched with emotions he had never felt before. Excitement, anticipation, and nervousness.
A few months later, that feeling soon turned into bottomless guilt and another pain. At the moment when the girl's existence was about to become the only happiness that supported his life, he asked his father, whom he had not seen for months.
"Father. What exactly is a remedy? If someone... is selected as my remedy, what happens to that woman?"
"Why do you use the word 'if'? Your remedy has already been decided, Kyle."
"It's already been decided...?"
"Your choice has already been made. You liked that girl named Angie. The verification results were a good match, and if you can relate to each other, the effect will be even better. There is no turning back now. Your blood has chosen that girl."
With those words, Father Edward went into another fit. Kyle knew intuitively that his father did not have much time left. It would be only a few years at most.
Deep in the night, he cautiously stepped into the secret vault hidden deep underground. With one leg limping, it was not easy to walk down the long stairs.
But he had to find out about Remedy, or more precisely, about Remedy's role. Ever since his father Edward collapsed without giving him an answer, something greater than pity and sorrow for his father had taken hold of him and would not let him go.
After two months of searching through the books in the library and his grandfather's records every night and three months after Angie began coming to the mansion, he finally unraveled the mystery of Remedy.
Eugenia Blackwell, his biological mother who died giving birth to him prematurely, was also a Remedy. She was the Remedy of his father, Edward.
After learning of other brutal facts, past events, and future events, Kyle threw the books in the library against the walls and floor like a madman. He tore at his hair and cried like a madman for a long time.
The deep and solid walls of the basement silently swallowed his maddening anger. Even before he knew about the 'thing' that existed in the basement of the main mansion, he was shivering from the abject despair.
The next day, he sent Angie home. During the reading, he yelled at her to leave and threw her out of the room. Louis told her to go back because the young master didn't seem to be feeling well, and Angie turned around with a worried, gloomy face.
Kyle looked out the window at Angie as she walked toward the carriage, her shoulders hunched. Without even turning his head, he spoke to his confidant behind him.
"Louis. Don't let Angie come here anymore. I'll change the remedy."
"That is impossible, Master. The child is already a remedy."
"If I want to change it, change it! That's an order!'
"It is impossible to turn back. Even if it is Edward's order..."
"It's impossible. You can replace it with another remedy!"
"It's never easy to find a replacement, Master. No child fits your constitution as well as she does. Of course, I'll have to secure an emergency remedy soon, but for now, that child is the best."
Until Angie came back two days later, Kyle couldn't swallow anything but the pills. He couldn't sleep. As the visiting time approached the next day, he spent the whole day alone in his own worries. He wanted to see her lovely face beyond the curtains, which he had missed for two days, and hear her voice chirping sweeter than the birds.
On the one hand, he was in so much pain that he didn't know how to face the child anymore. He was drowning in waves of bottomless guilt and extreme self-loathing, unable to escape. It was so painful that he wanted to dig into his chest with his own hands and tear out his heart.
This curse must end here. On my line... I would rather die.
But he could not die of his own will. This cursed fate took everything from him. Deprived of even the right to decide his own life and death, he was trapped in the cursed shackles rooted in the unforgivable greed of his predecessors. He was no better than a rat caught in a trap.
Angie, you shouldn't have come here. But... what choice did you have? How could you have known, as a blank slate, that you should never have set foot in this mansion?
After a long thought, Kyle returned to reality and took his lips off Angie's cheek. He slowly walked away. The moonlight that was hidden by the clouds was red. And the blood that covered Kyle's clothes, below his neck, the back of his hands, and even his bare feet, reflected in the moonlight, was even redder.
The grace period was coming again. Like his father Edward's seizure, it was time for him to go into hibernation for treatment. His father said.
"Kyle, you will heal little by little. I don't care if the Blackwells have everything and the world is under their feet, just like your grandfather's father wished... I only want one thing. That you are completely cured of the causality that has been tied to you since the moment you were born, regardless of your will... that drug, and live a normal life. That's all I want, Kyle. My beloved son."
He repeated the last word several times. His tone was solemn, but his voice was heavy as if he were tired.
"What I see before my eyes is not a dagger. The handle is pointed towards my hand. I can't grab it. I can't grab it, but it's right in front of me. Is this a cursed illusion that can only be seen but cannot be touched? Or is it a fake dagger created by the mind, just because of my feverish head?"
Angie looked up from reading a passage from Hamlet. The year had turned and a fortnight had already passed.
The cold winter air came into the room through the slightly open window for ventilation. She pursed her lips and blew her breath lightly. Soon, a white, round fog appeared on the transparent glass. The sky was too blue and clear for winter.
“Angie. What are you doing? Are you reading a book?”
The front door opened and Laura's mother called out at the same time. She untied the ribbon of her hat around her chin and looked into her daughter's room, which was wide open. Mother and daughter sat down affectionately, facing each other, with Sue's freshly baked meat pie in the middle of the table.
On the one hand, he was in so much pain that he didn't know how to face the child anymore. He was drowning in waves of bottomless guilt and extreme self-loathing, unable to escape. It was so painful that he wanted to dig into his chest with his own hands and tear out his heart.
This curse must end here. On my line... I would rather die.
But he could not die of his own will. This cursed fate took everything from him. Deprived of even the right to decide his own life and death, he was trapped in the cursed shackles rooted in the unforgivable greed of his predecessors. He was no better than a rat caught in a trap.
Angie, you shouldn't have come here. But... what choice did you have? How could you have known, as a blank slate, that you should never have set foot in this mansion?
After a long thought, Kyle returned to reality and took his lips off Angie's cheek. He slowly walked away. The moonlight that was hidden by the clouds was red. And the blood that covered Kyle's clothes, below his neck, the back of his hands, and even his bare feet, reflected in the moonlight, was even redder.
The grace period was coming again. Like his father Edward's seizure, it was time for him to go into hibernation for treatment. His father said.
"Kyle, you will heal little by little. I don't care if the Blackwells have everything and the world is under their feet, just like your grandfather's father wished... I only want one thing. That you are completely cured of the causality that has been tied to you since the moment you were born, regardless of your will... that drug, and live a normal life. That's all I want, Kyle. My beloved son."
He repeated the last word several times. His tone was solemn, but his voice was heavy as if he were tired.
***
"What I see before my eyes is not a dagger. The handle is pointed towards my hand. I can't grab it. I can't grab it, but it's right in front of me. Is this a cursed illusion that can only be seen but cannot be touched? Or is it a fake dagger created by the mind, just because of my feverish head?"
Angie looked up from reading a passage from Hamlet. The year had turned and a fortnight had already passed.
The cold winter air came into the room through the slightly open window for ventilation. She pursed her lips and blew her breath lightly. Soon, a white, round fog appeared on the transparent glass. The sky was too blue and clear for winter.
“Angie. What are you doing? Are you reading a book?”
The front door opened and Laura's mother called out at the same time. She untied the ribbon of her hat around her chin and looked into her daughter's room, which was wide open. Mother and daughter sat down affectionately, facing each other, with Sue's freshly baked meat pie in the middle of the table.
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