Home Visit (1)

'After the stage of corpses, is it ghosts now? Fine, just switch the genre to occult.'

The street of El Dante was tinged with the colour of the purple sky. As the sun started to set, merchants began to pack up their stalls, customers looking for bargains, and passersby excitedly making their way home. In the midst of this, I recalled what had happened earlier today. After carelessly bringing up talk of ghosts and such, the servant became quite flustered and tried to smooth over what he had said.

[Oh dear, what am I saying! It's just gossip among the employees, nothing you need to worry about! Surely, it's just that the Countess' absence feels especially significant, and that's why such talk is going around.]

[Oh, I see.]

[Since he was born into such a harmonious and family-oriented household, naturally, Master Leonardo will also be very affectionate when he meets his match… haha. There's nothing to worry about! So please, continue to avoid any misunderstandings and stay together for a long time… haha!]

And then, as if determined not to make any more slip-ups, he quickly fled.

In the end, I didn't get to hear the details about the ghost. Did someone see the form of the ghost, or was it just poltergeist phenomena with things moving on their own?

If this place were based on ordinary fantasy, I might not have minded the idea of a ghost wandering around. But the problem is that we're in a setting where things exist that can meticulously mimic even the dead. Could it be that thing imitating the Countess' corpse? If that's the case, could it have been the Count's doing, sealing off the tower?

I had similar thoughts after encountering a person indistinguishable from a human, one who had merged in the Sinistra Labyrinth.

The moment right after he was devoured and killed by a monster, something that perfectly copied his consciousness, appearance, memories, and personality was created. Is that a continuation of his self, or a separate entity? How deeply could that thing, which even exploits the weakest parts of one's heart—compassion and love—as a means of survival, deceive humans?

'It's just an assumption though.'

What if Count Ertinez, a loving husband who was said to have adored the Countess dearly, lost his wife to an illness and, in his deranged state, fed her corpse to that thing to create a replica? What should be done then?

When people lose someone close to them, they want to remember and cherish those memories. In modern times, we have photos, videos, recorded calls, and emails stored in archives. Even I managed to keep a single videotape. Fearing it might get damaged and be lost forever, I would only occasionally watch it when I felt nostalgic or curious. Only after discovering that I could convert it to a digital file did I feel free to watch it as much as I wanted. But in this era, what do people have to remember someone by?

A metal brooch engraved with a name, a portrait painted over with a brush and framed, which will one day dry, crack, and flake like fish scales, and memories that will soon fade. As if to prove that the past is always the past, these things will one day decay. 

The problem is that there's a monster that can overwhelmingly surpass these methods of remembrance. If there's a way to replicate a person, perhaps…

It's just a possibility. There's no definite proof yet that Count Ertinez has gone to such an extreme.

'If the Count and that thing are indeed behind the ghost rumours, then dealing with that thing in the form of the Countess will be a significant issue.'

Isn't it too early to be making definitive conclusions about an uncertain issue?

There's no real cure for a throbbing headache, but I remembered that one of the quickest remedies is what some call financial therapy. Hoping that shopping might alleviate some stress, I wandered in front of the yet-to-be-cleared stalls and picked out a few items. Sturdy gloves, a dark-coloured oilcloth raincoat, a few snacks…

[ Persona is very pleased.]

While pretending to casually pick out items, I discreetly acquired a black outfit. The Persona mask of the information merchant reacted swiftly. After spending the past few days adapting to the Persona system, I discovered a clear pattern in the mask's reactions. It wasn't just about which situations triggered a response but also about the locations involved.

Inside the Ertinez mansion, it was mainly the Persona. 

In the streets and back alleys of El Dante, it was always the Persona.

The adjectives before the roles changed several times a day. Sometimes, seeing the masks acting in sync with my actions felt like receiving feedback from a supervisor or director.

[ Persona has retreated again.]

It's disappointing that I couldn't elevate the unique abilities of the to the target level during tea time. Maybe it's because of the weight and mystery the role of the Apostle carries, but the Persona is particularly difficult to summon. It has the lowest sense of immersion and doesn't behave as animatedly as the other masks, making it hard to grasp its personality.

Still, there are ways. Although the tea time with Lady Celestina was thwarted by the original Leonardo's intervention, there's still the matter of the ghost rumours at the southern spire. If that's not enough, when Leonardo's punishment period is over, I could use the excuse of reforming a troublemaker and volunteer at the church.

With deliberate lightness of heart, I head to the back alley. As soon as I open the door to the gambling den, eyes turn towards me. There are those who welcome me and those who look at me with hostility for losing their stakes. After frequent visits, more people are beginning to recognize me. Even if they do recognize me, it's just a disguised face anyway. The owner of this place—which is a tavern by day and a gambling den by night, also greeted me with a subtle nod. The sun had already set, but the atmosphere was heated. I walked forward, pushing through the humid air, and squeezed into a spot at the gaming table.

"The man of luck has arrived. What are you thinking of playing today? ?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I actually thought about it on my way here… Games are fun enough, but I wanted something more exciting. So, I came up with a different kind of bet. To be precise, a challenge."

With that, I placed a money pouch on the counter. It landed with a heavy thud.

"This is all the money I won here last time. Thanks to your hard-earned wages accumulating bit by bit, it amounts to a few months' worth of living expenses."

"Are you bragging now?"

"Oh, come on, what do you take me for?"

If gambling were a living being, money would be the blood coursing through it. Something valuable, something tangible. The gamblers' eyes, sharp with hunger, fixated on the heavy money pouch making a clinking sound. I rolled the pouch into a large tin cup. I slid the cup over to the gambling den owner.

"I'm planning to give all this money to the person who beats me today. That's the bet I have in mind."

"What?"

"If you beat me, the money I've won at this gambling den today will all go to the winner. Consider it my respect for a luck greater than mine."

One of the gamblers, wearing a skeptical expression, questioned me.

"You mean to say that you'd risk losing all the money you've accumulated from your winning streak just for one loss? Isn't that all your money? Don't you feel it's a waste?"

"Did I have any money here? I wasn't aware. I just thought of it as money I happened to come across. And besides…"

"And besides?"

"The higher the stakes, the more thrilling it is, don't you think? If we're going to play, we should play big. Oh, but I plan to accept only seven challenges a day. As much as I'd love to stay here all day, I do need my sleep."

"Hah!"

A mix of people clicked their tongues in disbelief, jeered playfully, and chuckled.

"Just out of curiosity, what if you end up beating all the challengers tonight?"

"Then the pot for the potential winner of tomorrow's challenges would be even bigger. If that happens, tonight's silver coins filling this tin cup…"

I extended my finger to point at a large pot hanging on the wall.

"Tomorrow, that pot over there will be filled with silver coins. If someone doesn't come along to beat my luck for a long time, well… won't there come a day when we fill an entire barrel with silver coins? Wow, by then the prize will be astronomical. Talk about a life-changing moment!"

It's the logic of a lottery. While it's not a seemingly fair drawing system like a lottery, it doesn't have the same one-in-eight-million odds either.

One of the gamblers, looking at the bulging top of the tin cup, asked, "What if someone beats you and takes that pot?"

"Then I'll just start over from scratch, winning gradually again, waiting for that lucky gambler who can crush me."

"You play the game to lose? You're out of your mind."

Originally, those who seem a bit unhinged often last longer in this kind of game.

"Isn't the thrill and excitement what makes it worth it because there's a risk?"

"Now that I see it, you're really not in your right mind. You'll end up broke like this."

"Well, isn't that what gambling is all about?"

[ Persona is leisurely doing some warm-up exercises.]

"Everyone, please spread the word! The more challengers we have, the bigger the pot gets, and I get to experience some real thrill!"

I exchanged a casual glance with the gambling den owner, smiling brightly. That brief smile seemed to serve as a signal for the chaotic start of the betting frenzy, as excited gamblers began shouting challenges from all around.

Ah, I hope the pot swells immensely, spreads by word of mouth, attracts more customers from other gambling dens, and draws the attention of desperate owners from other places looking to snatch the prize.

'Then I'll wipe them all out.'

What a delightful thought…

The madness is unsettling, but perhaps pretending to embrace it is surprisingly enjoyable. And there's still the visit to Leonardo and the spire to look forward to afterward.

'Today's schedule is quite packed—searching private property, illegal gambling, and infiltrating, too. I might be getting more into this shady business than I thought.'