I've Got Connections in the Horror Game - Chapter 3

[AAAAH, I can’t, I can’t! Maid girl, you’re so cool, so badass! I love you!!!]

[Your taste can be down-to-earth, but please stop short of the underworld.]

[Wait, why did this girl get an invitation hand-delivered by the maid?

Don’t think slipping it to her means I didn’t see. These eyes miss nothing!

I saw that gorgeous English calligraphy the boss wrote on the invitation!

Doesn’t she usually just slaughter everyone?

Since when has our maid been this kindhearted?]

As the comments complained, I kept my head down and my mouth shut.

I wasn’t sure whether the players’ streams were connected. If everyone found out I was getting special treatment from the maid, I might have a mob on my hands.

But I’d barely spent two seconds trying to disappear when the comments went wild with screaming.

[AAAAH, my mom, my grandma, my shirt, my coat, my aunt and my great-aunt! I’m so scared I can barely walk! THE BIG BOSS IS HERE!]

[Daddy’s here!]

I sneaked a look up. A dark figure stood at the top of the stairs.

His outline looked familiar.

And he was tall. At least 185 centimeters.

With the chandelier smashed and the light so dim, though, I couldn’t see his face.

All I could hear was that pleasant, gentlemanly voice.

“My headstrong mistress has thrown another tantrum and run away from home.

“For the time being, I shall therefore be entertaining you in her stead.

“I hope you enjoy your stay.

“I also ask that you take good care of the castle’s furnishings. Running, roughhousing, and loud noises are strictly prohibited.”

That voice, indulgent and a little resigned, was exactly the same as my system’s!

I was about to open my eyes wider to see just who he was when the comments exploded.

[What mistress? Is the boss playing amateur dramatics today? Isn’t he the master of this whole castle? Why’s he putting on this act?]

[Can an instance change its script halfway through? This isn’t how it used to go…]

[Well, well. Can’t deny the boss in a butler’s tailcoat is a feast for the eyes.]

[Look at those legs, longer than my lifespan. Those broad shoulders, that back. A three-piece tailcoat suit and a gentleman’s pocket watch? Uniform fantasy unlocked.]

[He doesn’t even need to lift a finger. Those looks could kill. Let me drool.]

[Do you have a death wish? Forgotten how he murders people without blinking? Next time you enter an instance, he might twist your head off!]

That last comment immediately dampened the little thrill I’d been starting to feel.

My life mattered more.

My life mattered more.

Eventually, the maid led us into the dining room, where we took our seats at the table, trembling.

The first thing I noticed when I sat down was ten nutcrackers arranged in the center, dressed like British royal soldiers.

Brightly colored, almost playful.

Only then did I notice all the dishes of delicious food.

Everyone stared at it, afraid to eat.

The officer was clearly a veteran of several instances.

He picked up his knife and fork first. “In plenty of instances, a week is the shortest time you can complete the mission in. So we still need to eat. Unless you’re particularly unlucky, you generally won’t trigger a death condition that easily.”

After a little hesitation, everyone began eating.

You couldn’t exactly starve for seven days.

If something went wrong now, at least we’d die on a full stomach.

The carefree rich kid practically inhaled his meal.

But when we’d finished, music suddenly began to play in the dining room.

After an eerie introduction, a child started singing.

The song was ethereal, the notes lingering.

But a small child’s voice singing in that vast, silent dining room could only make your skin crawl.

“Ten little soldiers went out to dine;

One choked on his supper, and then there were nine.”

A deadly nursery rhyme.

Those two short lines were all it took before the child’s voice cut off.

Then, as if the words had cast a spell, the prophecy came true.

At the far end of the table, the wealthy woman suddenly clutched her neck. She stared at us, eyes wide with terror, rasping for breath.

She tried to call for help. No words came out.

The quickest among us sprang up and ran to her.

Before we could reach her, the veins in her neck bulged, her face turned blue, and she crashed to the floor.

She was dead.

Choked to death on a bite of steak.