How to Survive as the Horror Game Villain's Fake Fiancée - Chapter 6
With tense anticipation, Cynthia opened the door.
Brilliant light flooded in. Beneath the ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, countless nobles moved along the corridor, laughing and chatting as if intoxicated by the atmosphere.
There were young ladies gathered in groups, gossiping with their close friends, grand ladies fanning themselves and exchanging glances, and gentlemen on the balcony engrossed in conversation, not even thinking to empty the glasses in their hands.
‘It’s… all so real…’
No matter how you looked at it, the scene was saturated with a sense of reality. How could anyone say this was a game?
Cynthia slowly crossed the corridor, feeling as if she’d stepped into one of the beautifully painted canvases she’d once seen at a Baroque exhibition she’d had the chance to visit.
Amidst the NPCs of the game, who laughed and joked without a hint of danger, only Cynthia wandered anxiously, desperately searching for an exit like someone who didn’t belong in this dream. As she did, someone rushed over and called out to her.
“Miss! Miss Cynthia!”
When Cynthia turned around, a woman about her own age was running toward her. At first, the face was unfamiliar, but as she got closer, it came back to Cynthia with a vividness that pierced her memory.
It was her personal maid, Melissa.
“Miss! Master is looking for you. What are you doing here?”
The woman with short black hair and green eyes, voice lowered and breathless, asked nervously. Cynthia tried to recall how she used to treat her before the possession, but nothing came to mind, so she replied awkwardly.
“H-Huh? Right. I’ll go. Where is he again?”
Assuming that ‘Master’ meant Count Obel, she asked, and for a split second, Melissa flinched.
Had she made a mistake? Cynthia tried to ask as naturally as possible.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing… I’ll show you the way.”
Even as she turned away, Melissa continued to cast suspicious glances at her.
It was only natural. Melissa Moltz, who had been with Cynthia for a long time, was one of the few remaining servants in the increasingly impoverished count’s household, and the only one Cynthia had ever opened up to, treating her like an older sister. It was no wonder she’d sense that something was off.
That important memory only returned to her now. As Cynthia followed Melissa, she cursed at the system.
‘Couldn’t you show me the important stuff right away? My survival odds are already low enough. Do I have to worry about every little thing on top of that?’
The protagonist can progress the story by working together with people around her depending on her choices. There are many details you need to pay attention to, even if they seem trivial, so please keep that in mind.
Cynthia glared at the message that the system sent, then awkwardly smiled as she met Melissa’s questioning gaze from beyond it. The maid looked even more suspicious, but turned her head away.
Melissa led Cynthia to a drawing room.
No sooner had they arrived than a scolding voice thundered down.
“You! What took you so long? I thought you’d run away, when you said you were getting ready!”
Cynthia, startled, shrank back almost reflexively.
Count Obel, with his half-bald head, thick jaw, short stature, and sour expression, had a face flushed red. ‘Cynthia Obel’ must have taken after her mother entirely, for none of the count’s features could be seen in her.
He told Melissa to check the balcony to make sure no one was outside, then, brandishing his gentleman’s cane menacingly, advanced on Cynthia. As if her body remembered on its own, she obediently placed her gloved hands together and bowed her head deeply to the floor.
“That’s right, you need to behave properly if you want to catch that man’s eye, even a little. But don’t get so caught up in the banquet that you forget why we’re here. You remember what I told you, don’t you?”
At Count Obel’s admonishment, memories she’d buried began to surface one by one.
He had told her something when he brought ‘Cynthia Obel’ here today.
“…You said if I don’t win over the Duke of Wincastle, you’ll marry me off to Marquis Bevins.”
“That’s it. But… you’re acting differently today. You always used to be like a wax doll, barely reacting to anything your father said, but now, on the eve of something important, you’ve finally come to your senses?”
Was the real ‘Cynthia Obel’ that detached by nature? Given that ‘Resignation’ was included in her stats, it seemed likely.
But the current Cynthia couldn’t even focus on what he was saying.
‘But how am I supposed to do that? Win over who? Duke Wincastle?’
How was she supposed to win over a monster who could slice, grind, tear, and crush people all with his bare hands?
Complete nonsense.
At least in the pre-update version of the game, there was no such thing as a favorability system. Duke Wincastle was nothing but a slaughter machine in the shell of a handsome man.
