Chapter 15
The footsteps wandering beyond the door, stirring up appetite, finally faded away after a long while.
Andras, who had been given the ridiculous name Jelly by Evangeline, leaned against the door, panting heavily. Each violent cough brought excruciating pain as he vomited up entrails and chunks of flesh. His face was already a mess from the blood streaming from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
The wounds from the cat scratches had healed in just hours, but the Holy Water Evangeline had fed him had completely wrecked his insides.
His tongue had burned away unable to withstand the liquid, and his esophagus felt like it was melting, searing his flesh. Perhaps because it was the Sun God's Holy Water, the sensation resembled the time he had been burned at the stake long ago.
Repairing his rapidly corroding body was the best Andras could do. If he hadn't devoured several beforehand, he would have been unable to keep up with the destruction and died.
Damn cat bastard. He'd only teased it for suddenly playing pet when it didn't suit it—never expected such a furious reaction.
And to think Evangeline would feed him Holy Water. Plauros might have dodged it somehow, but he couldn't escape Evangeline's grasp.
It wasn't even gripped tightly, yet instinct told him not to move, freezing his body. So he had no choice but to obediently swallow the poison as it was shoved into his mouth.
Whatever had entered Evangeline Rohanson's body was utterly bizarre.
It wore a human mask and acted accordingly, yet made no effort to hide its otherworldliness.
Being beyond human cognition, merely looking at it choked the breath and instilled fear. What but a god could subdue Andras and make Plauros act like a fawning cat? Yet it could never be a god.
Whoever summoned it had called forth something extraordinary.
Despite centuries together, Plauros showed no interest in Andras whether he bled or vomited flesh. Resenting that, Andras stubbornly lingered outside the door.
Banned from Evangeline's sofa for reeking of blood, he fumed even more at the cat lounging comfortably.
"Quiet down."
Not content with that, it scolded him for being noisy while he suffered. Who brought the Holy Water in the first place? As he neared death because of it, the stingy bastard worried only that Evangeline might wake from the noise.
Plauros, shedding its cat guise, was elegantly beautiful enough to mistake for a descending angel—at least in form. His sun-melting curly golden hair and powdered-sugar skin appealed even to picky Andras.
If there was one flaw, it was the messily embroidered collar. Yet it seemed to adore it.
Plauros rubbed its face against Evangeline's hand like a real cat. It looked affectionate at a glance—if not for the hundreds of thousands of eyes blooming like mold on the ceiling and floor around it.
To Andras, those eyes everywhere made the room resemble a living creature's innards rather than a bedroom. No wonder the cat's stench wafted from afar.
The eyes gazed only at Evangeline. For her to tolerate such a grotesque sight suggested she truly cherished Plauros.
Then, the eyes all turned toward Andras in unison. No—beyond the door? As he wiped his bloody mouth, the door cracked open silently. A yellow eye peered through the narrow gap.
"Mr. Jelly. You're so noisy I can't sleep."
The voice from beyond was Kanna's.
Kanna glanced around the room, saw Evangeline sleeping, and lowered her volume. Not wanting to wake her, she whispered very softly.
Andras's pained gasps carried clearly to the room directly below. Unable to endure the noise, Kanna had spent time outside briefly, but upon returning, still heard the cries and came all the way to Evangeline's door.
Unable to enter without permission, Kanna vented from beyond the door.
"My sister is scared—could you please be quiet?"
Nights in Rohanson Mansion amplified sounds especially. Hena plugged her ears against the ceaseless groans, worrying, "What if she mistakes your voice for the crying?" and begging Kanna to talk to her occasionally.
Andras felt bitter at being ignored even by humans, but recalled Kanna was one Evangeline particularly favored and mustered patience.
As expected of someone chosen by Evangeline Rohanson, she wasn't right in the head either. She'd seemed fine despite seeing the eyes, but now demanded quiet while he vomited blood. Second time today after Plauros.
At this point, he felt like the criminal for suffering.
***
Ah... sleep paralysis. Why do ghosts exist in a romance-fantasy world? I barely slept listening to ghostly sobs by the door all night. Tossing and turning, I woke up late again today.
Actually, not just today. Since possessing, I've grown lazy, always rising when shadows are shortest. Wondering the time, I reached for my phone—realizing it's gone—and checked the desk clock before flopping back down.
Doubting if I was still dreaming, I felt the cat's warmth by my head and snapped to reality. Yet it lacked real weight. Not a dream, but a world made of mere text—so not much different.
Yeah. No need to overthink. Might get homesick. No way back anyway.
Tossed a while longer, no more sleep, so got up.
"Pudding, good morning."
"Sleep well?"
Greeted Pudding, but a reply came from elsewhere. Told it to sleep on the sofa—when did it climb onto the bed? Jelly wagged its tail beside me.
"Get down now."
"Why does only that one get special treatment?"
Jelly whined about unequal treatment with Pudding and wanted to sleep on the bed. Of course—Pudding's a kid.
Asked Jelly yesterday if Pudding could turn human too; it said I didn't know? Embarrassed for treating it as a mere cat, I avoided it briefly, but Pudding sulked so much we made up. Though no more butt pats like before.
Unlike Jelly, Pudding struggles with speech, so luckily a young beastkin. Good it wasn't a full-grown man's butt I patted.
"Get along."
I woke suddenly in this body without warning, so assume I'll vanish the same way. If I leave, Pudding loses its butler—worried, but beastkin helps. Jelly, another beastkin, will care for it.
After a day together, Jelly didn't seem male lead material despite looks—more like a generous sub-male lead? Actually, like a pet. Is saying that speciesism? Me, a discriminators...
Knock knock.
Despairing, a knock sounded.
"Lady, it's Kanna."
"Come in."
Door opened; red curly hair like garden cherry blossoms filled my view.
Like a romance-fantasy cover, petals swirled in illusion. Healing my hurt feelings. Heroine quality?
"Lady, look at this!"
Kanna proudly wore the name tag I embroidered on her clothes. Mine, but truly awful. Hieroglyphs? Seeing her love it warmed my heart.
Chatting with Kanna, Hena brought food. Even with Jelly freeloading, meals are just Kanna and me. Jelly said it'd eat and left with Pudding.
"Hope it never comes back."
Watching Jelly saunter off like a bum, Kanna said quietly.
Kanna wary of Sir Gabriel, but outright disliked Jelly. Thought she liked the wolf at first, but eyes turned fierce upon human form. Since I found Jelly first, she and Jelly clashed.
"No word from Sir Gabriel yet."
"Yeah."
Thought male lead would handle it fine, but uneasy.
Quickly remove the painting and prove my innocence! No contact—male lead failing? Impossible! Romance-fantasy male leads are competent!
True male leads GPS-track fleeing heroines effortlessly, execute duke ladies shaking empires with one word, etc. Incompetence disqualifies male leads.
Crown princes or dukes have money/power, so slight lacks okay—but Gabriel's knight commander? No ability, he's out. Knights mostly sub-leads for a reason.
Huh?
Wait. Gabriel could be sub-male lead!
No midlife crown prince or grand duke, so assumed male lead from face—but knights more famous as subs.
Post-possession hikikomori life—might not have met real male lead yet.
Gabriel and Kanna far from love—reason for analysis now? Exactly...
