The Man’s 101st Bad Ending

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When I looked in the mirror, a pale face stared back at me.

My face already looked sickly, but like this, wouldn’t I appear to be on the verge of death?

I could understand why Adele had said I looked like someone about to die.

If anyone saw this face, they would probably think the same thing at least once.

Considering she was quite healthy herself, it was only natural for her to think I looked frail.

Of course, her words seemed to cut right through my condition.

The reflection in the mirror showed a face exactly as I remembered it – eyes devoid of life.

It made sense.

While my mind may differ, my body had always reverted to that of a 20-year-old summer.

They say the eyes are windows to the soul.

Perhaps my appearance had changed slightly, as she said.

Come to think of it, how long had it been since I last smiled sincerely after beginning the regression?

Any upturned lips felt unbearably awkward, forced.

Shaking my head, I turned to see Renold standing there sheepishly.

…How long had he been here?

“I told you not to enter without my permission.”

“Ah, I had permission. Didn’t I explain your schedule for today earlier?”

“Ah.”

Preoccupied with the mirror and my own thoughts, I had completely forgotten that Renold was in my room.

As for today’s schedule, truthfully, there was not much for me to do.

My father and Yuria handled the family’s affairs, while the servants took care of miscellaneous tasks.

It wasn’t that I was deliberately wandering about aimlessly.

As if I were not a part of it, my name was always excluded from matters handled by this nobility.

If there was any difference, it was that I had to meet my father directly today.

“Is he calling me because of yesterday’s incident?”

“Probably…that must be the case. The rumors have spread quite far. That you harmed someone, yes. But surely that cannot be true.”

“If I had killed someone at the imperial party, I would be in prison, not here. Isn’t that a rather impoverished imagination?”

“I, I did not spread those rumors. Some of the maids did-”

“Yes, yes, I get the picture.”

With no injuries but returning covered in blood, and the young master shutting himself in his room – that was one fact.

I could roughly gauge the extent of exaggeration and distortion that had occurred.

In reality, there were quite a few among the servants who disliked me, so some malice was likely mixed in as well.

I wondered which of Yuria’s dogs had been yapping about this time. It irritated me, just a little.

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“M-My lord?”

As I always felt, an unusual amount of attention seemed to be drawn to my actions.

Just the act of stepping out of my room caused so many to react.

When I grasped the chin of the maid standing in front of my door, she flinched in surprise.

An unfamiliar face. It seemed vaguely familiar, but still a face I had not seen much despite my many regressions.

In other words, someone who had little direct dealings with me.

So what did it mean for such a maid to be loitering right in front of my door?

The possibilities narrowed down to two choices:

Either she was genuinely a new maid, or someone’s pawn.

Moreover, what reason could she have for being in front of my door?

Renold had just entered and was standing right behind me.

The way she trembled like a frightened mouse was quite suspicious.

If she had simply been passing by, she would have been carrying something, but this woman’s hands were conspicuously empty.

As it was, she only appeared to have business at my door.

“Who are you, standing in front of my room?”

“I, I’m a maid of the Taylor household…?”

“Since when were you a maid? This is the first time I’ve seen your face.”

Gripping her chin tighter, I applied more pressure with my fingers.

Gradually feeling the strain, the maid’s brow furrowed slightly from the pain.

“I know every single maid in this household. I’ve seen them too many times to count.”

I could never forget faces I had seen dozens of times over.

I knew where each of them lived, what tasks they performed – everything.

Memories remained of investigating them one by one, fearing they might help in my killing, or that one of them might try to kill me.

I never expected such an obsession to prove useful now, but one thing was clear – this maid was suspicious.

With her strength failing, the maid whose chin I held sank to the floor.

For the household to employ someone so spineless…

“The young lady certainly has a peculiar way of handling matters. To have a novice maid eavesdrop like this.”

“That, that’s not-”

“I don’t much care for lies. Just keep your mouth shut.”

Pressing her lips tightly together, she gave a pained nod.

Glancing at Renold’s expression, his eyes were widened in apparent shock.

At the very least…it meant Renold still had some value to me.

She was no assassin.

At this point, there was no reason for anyone to try killing me, and it seemed she was simply an easy target, tasked with some menial duty.

The maid did not say another word.

Only her tear-brimmed eyes made it clear she was unaccustomed to such treatment.

In that case, there was no point holding her any longer, only harming myself.

Releasing her chin, I gave Renold a look to handle the rest.

“…Very well. There’s no reason for me to take it out on you. The rumors from yesterday must have caused quite a disturbance.”

“Hic…hic…”

Not just my early return, but surely the rumors of me being covered in blood had also spread.

Naturally, she would suspect I had done something.

Her reaction was hardly unexpected, prompting an amused laugh instead.

Disappointment requires some expectation in the first place – with Yuria, well, her response lacked originality.

After dealing with the maid, Renold bowed his head to me and left.

As I had noticed since yesterday, Renold seemed to show me quite a respectful attitude.

Whether because he felt I held his leash, I did not dislike such an attitude.

As long as he kept it up, it only benefited me.

‘Yuria moved too hastily.’

No matter how lightly she may have regarded me, to spread such rumors and then gauge my reaction.

The laughable part was that in my first turn, I would have been completely flustered by this.

What she likely failed to consider was that I had experienced such situations dozens of times before.

Then again, no one but me would know that.

With those thoughts in mind, my steps towards where my father would be suddenly halted.

The rapid footsteps approaching from behind were the reason.

As if I were the target, the reckless sound slowly softened as I stopped.

“Robert Taylor.”

As always, that icy voice sent a chill down my spine.

For a moment, it felt like a biting wind was blowing.

Despite the sweltering summer, Yuria’s eyes always radiated a cold indifference.

“Why did you return to the manor alone yesterday? I told you not to cause any more trouble.”

“You did indeed say that.”

“I’m asking you now. Why did you return to the manor covered in blood?”

Instantly, a laugh escaped my lips.

How ridiculous, to interrogate someone without even properly confirming the facts.

No matter how perfect a young lady she claimed to be, she lacked refinement.

Did she really think she could intimidate solely through her status?

This was precisely one of those moments.

“You are mistaken, Young Lady. It seems the servants have relayed incorrect rumors.”

“I am mistaken? Ha, Robert. You still say that despite this evidence?”

She produced a shirt stained with blood around the collar.

Had she directly instructed the laundry to find it? The blood stains were certainly there.

But that was all. No one would describe such a shirt as being ‘covered in blood’.

Yet Yuria’s manner was quite self-assured.

As if her words alone were the absolute truth, she seemed convinced of the ‘hypothesis’ she had constructed herself.

“Would you call that much blood ‘covered’, Young Lady? It seems a bit different from my understanding.”

“That’s not the important part right now. Where did you get that blood from? You have no wounds on your body, so for you to be stained with blood, it must be someone else’s. Don’t tell me you actually killed someone…”

“Hah…”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Yuria’s expression hardened for a moment.

I had intended to listen quietly and apologize a few times to end it, but her misunderstanding seemed greater than I thought.

Murder? Surely she knew better than anyone that I had never so much as held a sword.

This was simply absurd.

Mere pretext to make a big deal out of me acting alone.

With her authority, she could easily treat it as fact and bury me under it.

Even if the truth came out and it dissipated, my father would have scolded me for disgracing the family honor upon hearing the rumor.

In other words, her aim of casting me out from my father’s graces would be admirably achieved.

“So you believed the words of some servants over me.”

“…I never said I heard it from the servants.”

“Then did you see it directly? Did you see where I was injured, who I met at the ball that got me bloodied? You didn’t, did you? No, of course you didn’t.”

My previously calm voice had grown quite sharp.

Likely because my mood was not particularly good.

The old memories I had recalled as I slept seemed to overlap with her image.

The hands that had strangled my neck, the face that had mocked me as I died, the cold eyes that had tortured me directly – it was provoking me.

“In the end, you have no interest in me whatsoever, do you, Young Lady?”

To Yuria, I was not a brother.

Merely someone who shared her blood, perhaps a rival who could take the position of young master if she made a mistake.

That was why she tried to keep me in check.

Scolding me for mistakes, torturing me for wrongdoings – it was all because she saw me not as family, but as a rival.

My raised voice gradually lowered, eventually regaining its initial calm.

It even seemed colder than before.

My mind, stripped of what little emotion remained, was like a still pond without so much as a ripple.

Yuria was still watching me.

But unlike before, there were now cracks in that hardened expression.

Her slightly trembling lips, her wavering eyes, were proof of that.

“You’re saying you were injured…”

“I met Lady Igrit. She cut my neck.”

At the mention of Igrit, Yuria’s eyes narrowed.

Igrit – that name could only refer to one person.

She seemed doubtful, but fell silent upon seeing the Igrit crest embroidered on the handkerchief I showed her.

How ridiculous, that she still doubted the words of her own kin, yet firmly believed the crest of a duke she had never met.

“I was injured. Do you really think someone who has never even held a sword could kill another person?”

“……”

Her tightly closed mouth seemed to admit defeat, unable to refute me further.

The face that had glared at me was gone. I looked at the small cracks that had formed.

Seeming flustered, her wavering eyes prompted me to speak quietly.

“If you don’t know, it’s better not to say anything. If you wish for me to disappear, you should just tell me so.”

To her continued silence, I added as I turned away:

“Then I will quietly disappear, Young Lady.”

I started walking towards my father’s room.

My original goal had been to speak with him, the delay was merely that.

But as I took a step forward, Yuria muttered softly.

“…It’s not that I have no interest in you.”

The words I had been about to refute caught in my throat.

Because Yuria was looking at me.

With an expression so distorted, it seemed it might shatter at any moment.

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