The Male Leads Are Trapped in My House

Kellyan, whose lies I had caught onto, ended up tied tightly to the chair.
Though he initially resisted, struggling and refusing to comply, he couldn’t move an inch once I gripped the back of his neck with enough force.

Thanks to that, Harrison easily secured him to the chair.
Even then, Kellyan stubbornly refused to give up any information, pretending to be an unimportant knight with no knowledge of anything useful.
I stomped my foot lightly, striking the floor.

Boom.
A deep dent formed in the wooden floor.
"You’ll need to start speaking the truth now," I said, tapping the damaged floor with my foot. "Or else, Sir Kellyan, your body might end up like this."

Kellyan stared at the gaping dent with wide eyes, his face turning pale.
"You’re not human," he muttered, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and fear.
Harrison, sitting beside me, calmly pulled out his notebook and started taking meticulous notes on the interrogation.

"Why were you in Kint?" I asked. "Why travel through monster-infested regions while using Westmoor as a basecamp?"
Kellyan hesitated, scratching his cheek with a conflicted expression. He sighed heavily, glancing at me like a guilty puppy caught making a mess.
I pressed on, not giving him a chance to wriggle free.

"There were others in Brunel wearing Royal Guard uniforms who tried to kidnap Sir Ethan before. They were your group, weren’t they?"
Kellyan continued denying everything, shaking his head.
"That’s baseless speculation, milady. I’ve been operating alone, and I’m no imposter. I’ve been acting under orders from His Highness, Crown Prince Theodore…"

"His Highness gave you orders from Westmoor?" I interrupted sharply.
"Yes. We have a secure way of communicating—"
"Don’t lie to me. His Highness is in the capital. I confirmed his location via a phone call recently. What’s your excuse now?"

Strictly speaking, Ethan had been the one on the call with Aurora, who had mentioned being under Theodore’s protection and unable to leave the capital due to Westmoor’s blockade.
For the first time, Kellyan’s face showed genuine distress.
"Milady," Harrison spoke up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "If you permit me, I could resort to torture."
Kellyan flinched at the word, his body tensing visibly. I turned to Harrison, curious.

"You’ve done that before?"
Harrison stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"I’ve had experience accompanying the chairman a few times."

Seriously?
"The chairman does not tolerate betrayal. And any who attempt to defraud the Sinclair family are repaid tenfold."
Why does that make my father sound like a mob boss?

"If you wish, I could start by cutting off his fingers. There are plenty of methods available."
"Wait a moment!"
Harrison casually pulled a dagger from his jacket pocket.

Kellyan, panicking, thrashed against the ropes binding him, trying desperately to break free. But his efforts were futile—the ropes didn’t budge.
Eventually, Kellyan gave up and let out a resigned sigh.
"Fine, I’ll talk. Just… calm down."

Harrison’s brow twitched slightly, and he gestured with the dagger for Kellyan to answer the questions I had posed earlier.
"I have a younger brother who’s suffering from an incurable disease," Kellyan began reluctantly. "The scientists in Westmoor are working on a cure that could save him. The only way to save my brother is to follow their orders and carry out this work."
So, they were developing a cure for an incurable disease in Westmoor?

I wracked my brain, but the novel Twisted Love in the Apocalypse had no mention of Westmoor, much less a cure. It wasn’t even clear how Aurora had managed to travel through Westmoor to reach Brunel in the first place.
"Who are these scientists? Who’s in charge of them? And what exactly is the ‘work’ you’ve been doing for them?" I pressed.
"My job has been to collect experimental materials needed for developing a virus cure," Kellyan answered hesitantly. "As for the scientists or the leader of the camp, I don’t know their identities."

"You don’t know? How is that possible? Do you expect me to believe that?"
Frustrated by his incomplete answers, I turned to Harrison and flicked my finger. Harrison immediately grabbed Kellyan by the collar and brandished his dagger menacingly.
Kellyan raised his hands in surrender, letting out a shaky breath.

"Let’s discuss this peacefully, shall we? You really are every bit a Sinclair."
"If you insult the Sinclair name one more time, I’ll cut your tongue out," Harrison said coldly.
For the first time, I saw Harrison truly menacing. His usual stoic expression had given way to an aura of pure menace, enough to make even me feel suffocated by the weight of it.

I forced myself to focus and turned back to Kellyan.
"Maybe we can help you. But we need to know more."
Kellyan seemed taken aback by my offer, falling silent as he considered it. Eventually, his tone turned more serious.

"I don’t know who the leader of Westmoor’s survival camp is. Only our unit commander knew their identity. Unfortunately, that commander was killed by monsters recently…"
So he doesn’t know the leader of the camp?
From the start, Kellyan’s information was proving useless. I found myself questioning whether it was worth keeping him alive.

Sensing my thoughts, Kellyan hurriedly added more:
 
"So the position of the current commander is vacant, and by rank, I’m next in line. That’s why I recently received orders to return to Westmoor—and to bring Ethan Duncan Lancaster with me."
"And why Sir Ethan?"

"As I mentioned, I haven’t been officially appointed yet, so I’m not privy to the full details. While outside the base, I simply follow orders for security reasons."
Completely useless, isn’t he?
"But is Sir Ethan alive?" Kellyan asked me directly.

It dawned on me that the last time Kellyan had seen Ethan was when he had returned to Happy House, wounded and bitten, before collapsing.
"Well, that depends on how well you answer my questions, doesn’t it?" I replied.
Beside me, Harrison beamed with pride, his expression akin to that of a professor watching his star pupil excel. Ignoring the weight of his approving gaze, I pressed on.

"How do you communicate with the people in Westmoor?"
"…Carrier pigeons," Kellyan admitted reluctantly.
I glanced at Harrison. If they used carrier pigeons, there might be a way to intercept their messages and glean information.

"What are these ‘experimental materials’ you’ve been collecting?"
This piqued my interest further, especially since I had tasked Nox with developing a cure for the virus. Any related information could prove invaluable to us.
"I don’t know the specifics of the experiments, but I’ve mainly been tasked with procuring specific monsters, badon, and elpinos herbs."

So Kellyan didn’t even know why those items were needed.
"And what kind of monsters fit the criteria?"
"Monsters that have been infected for less than 24 hours, those bitten but haven’t yet consumed human flesh, and so on."

It sounded plausible. They might genuinely be working on a cure.
"Could Ezra be in Westmoor?"
One thing was clear: the Westmoor camp likely knew about Ethan’s immunity. That’s why they wanted him brought there.

There were many more questions I wanted to ask—about the camp’s situation, what they knew about Ethan, and more.
"But how can I trust you with all this information?" Kellyan countered, his tone tinged with desperation. "I still need to secure a way to save my younger brother. I can’t risk losing that chance."
Although we had mentioned torture earlier, there was no rush. I needed time to process and organize the information Kellyan had already shared.

After consulting with Harrison, we decided to keep Kellyan confined to his room on the second floor. This time, however, he was tied up tightly, just like Charlie.
Frankly, I wasn’t sure how much of Kellyan’s story to believe.
His claims about helping the scientists to save his brother could very well be fabricated.

If he’s targeting Ethan, kicking him out would only lead to another attack on Happy House.
That left two options: turn Kellyan to our side or eliminate him. I could only hope it wouldn’t come to the latter.
As Harrison and I descended to the first floor, we were met with an unexpected sight.

A man, wrapped head to toe in white bandages like a mummy, was sprawled out on the lobby floor.
The residents of Happy House had gathered around, whispering and staring. Nearby, Nox stood with a cigarette, his expression twisted in annoyance as he puffed away.
"What’s going on?" I asked, approaching Nox.

The moment he saw me, his scowl softened. Quickly removing the cigarette from his mouth, he extended his hand to keep the smoke away from me.
Blowing the remaining smoke toward the ground, he smiled wryly.
"Ignore him. He’s just doing this for your attention. But go ahead and watch—it’s entertaining, isn’t it?"

Stepping aside, Nox gestured toward the man lying on the floor.
"That lunatic," he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically laced with irritation.
It was the first time I’d heard such coarse language from Nox, which only made me more curious. Pushing past the onlookers, I approached the man on the floor.

"Sir Ethan, what are you doing here?"
Ethan, who had been staring blankly at the ceiling, glanced at me and crooked his finger in a beckoning gesture.
I tilted my head, confused, and crouched down in front of him, meeting him at eye level.