I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 28

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 28
Udith was on her way home from work.
“Ah, madam! Are you heading in?”
“Are you on your way to the Earl’s Residence as well, Henry?”
“Yes, I promised to meet Ern there.”
Henry took Udith’s basket from her and spoke warmly. So far, it was all perfectly ordinary.
“You must find it lonely once Ern leaves.”
But when Henry stopped dead in the middle of the road and began rambling on about something wholly unimportant, Udith tilted her head in confusion.
“Can’t you just tell me as we walk?”
“Of course, you’re right. But you see, madam, I bought a hat yesterday. Would you like to see it? Hats like this are all the rage in the Capital these days….”
Even as he said it was fine, Henry stood rooted to the spot like a man with feet glued to the ground.
Something’s off. There’s definitely something wrong. Just as suspicion began to narrow Udith’s eyes, Ern appeared from the direction of the mansion.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was on my way to your place.”
“Lucky timing—I was heading home too.”
Henry and Ern exchanged a meaningful glance.
“Weren’t you just coming from the mansion, sir?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
He looks like he was, though. Udith couldn’t shake the sense that both men’s behavior was subtly off. Something was clearly amiss, yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on what.
Still, once Ern joined them, Henry no longer tried to keep Udith rooted to the spot. Between Ern, Henry, and Udith, an indefinable tension hung in the air.
“Why is the gate open?”
As they drew near the mansion, Udith’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of the wide-open front gate. Ever since Leon had come and torn the place apart, she’d been far more careful about locking up.
“You must’ve forgotten to close it when you left this morning.”
“Even if I had forgotten, there’s no way I’d have left it standing wide open like that.”
If the lock had simply been undone, that would be one thing—but left gaping open like this? It looked as though someone had rushed out in haste….
“Could it be a burglary?”
As an ominous premonition washed over her, Udith rushed into the mansion. And indeed—disaster befell those who tempt fate—her room’s door hung open just as wide, and inside was complete chaos.
For a moment, Udith stood frozen, staring at the ransacked room. Then she snapped to her senses and began searching frantically.
“My money!”
The gold coins she’d saved for paying interest had vanished without a trace.
“My—my Worm!”
And her beloved pet Worm had disappeared along with the coins.
Meanwhile, Leon slipped out of the Rainhardt Mansion, unable to suppress the grin spreading across his face.
“What luck this is.”
Everyone has their moment in the sun, it seemed—and his had arrived. He’d gone to the Rainhardt Mansion to find a handsome fellow conveniently absent, Udith had left her room empty, and fortune smiled upon him in the most unexpected ways.
Beyond the gold coins, he’d even discovered a pouch of gold nuggets.
“Phew, look at the shine on this.”
Pure gold, without question. Chuckling to himself, Leon tucked the silk pouch snugly inside his jacket and made for the Gambling House with a spring in his step.
And on that day, he struck the jackpot of his lifetime.
Back at the Rainhardt Mansion, Udith listened to the full account, and her anger got the better of her as she reached for Ern’s bottle of liquor.
“I never thought Henry would be part of this scheme.”
So that’s why Henry had kept her pinned to the spot, dragging out the conversation—to give Leon an easy escape while he ran his theft. And Ern had stood watch for him, though Leon himself never knew. Udith had suspected something the moment Henry delayed her, and now it made terrible sense.
Udith gulped down the liquor.
“It was all for you, Udith Herington—don’t forget that.”
Ern snatched the bottle from Udith’s hand.
“You should be thanking us for saving your life, not getting drunk.”
Ern clicked his tongue at her openly. Udith had been perfectly capable of becoming like this. The plan to pass off the Worm to Leon had been hers from the start. But because she kept putting it off and putting it off, Ern had taken matters into his own hands.
“I was going to handle everything when the time came.”
“When? Right before you died? Once you’re dead, money’s useless to you.”
“I’d bundle it all up and take it with me when I go.”
Udith pouted.
“I was trying to save enough to pay off the debt before sending it.”
Even if she worked herself to the bone while the Worm was alive, the debt would never be settled—and now, without the Worm, how could she ever repay it? To make matters worse, the Worm had gone off shamelessly with Leon, and she couldn’t help feeling betrayed.
“Stop worrying about that.”
“Do you have some plan?”
“I’ll collect compensation from Cliff—the damages we couldn’t recover before.”
That approach? Udith’s face brightened considerably.
“So you had it all figured out, did you?”
“If you keep calling me that, I’m only giving you half.”
“As if I’d refuse you anything, Ern.”
The Rainhardt Mansion now seemed free of problems, as though everything were resolving itself smoothly.
* * *
“This can’t be happening.”
Orders dried up. Sales plummeted.
“It’s exactly the same as what I made!”
A large shop was selling Colored Candles identical to those Udith had created—and at a cheaper price, with neater packaging to boot.
There was no hope of selling Udith’s candles, carried about in a basket, when counterfeits flooded the market. She’d anticipated such copies from the start—after all, it took nothing more than mixing dyes. But she hadn’t expected the blow to land so hard.
Still, having foreseen the knockoffs, she’d prepared her next move: Scented Candles. Yet fragrances were far harder to source and handle than dyes. Experiments were ongoing, but the products weren’t ready for market yet. At this rate, she’d be unable to pay next month’s Interest.
“Smith won’t sit idle.”
Her only hope now rested on the Compensation for Damages that Ern was meant to collect.
“He’ll bring it back, won’t he?”
She had a bad feeling about it. On the very day Ern was preparing to seek out Cliff, word arrived from him—he was returning to the Capital and wanted to meet there. He’d explain everything honestly, but if she didn’t believe him, he’d be happy to purchase Truth Potion.
The mere suggestion of buying Truth Potion only deepened her suspicion. Ern felt the same way.
* * *
A few days later, in the reception room of Cliff’s Mansion, Ern was taken aback by the transformation in Cliff’s appearance.
“Smile, why don’t you. The man who tried to kill you has ended up like this—that’s good, isn’t it?”
Never mind the gaunt face with cheekbones jutting sharply forward, or the blackened hollows around his eyes—Cliff couldn’t move about on his own. Leaning on his butler and a Cane, he could manage only a few halting steps.
“All this from just Truth Potion?”
“It seems the Truth Potion was incompatible with a chronic illness I’ve been carrying.”
A Bottle of Liquor and a glass lay between Ern and Cliff. A skeletal hand reached for the bottle and filled the glass.
“Drink. No poison—don’t worry.”
Drinking hard liquor in the daytime? The Cliff that Ern knew had been meticulous about self-discipline. Yet here he was, gulping down spirits in broad daylight. Instead of accepting the glass, Ern withdrew the Truth Potion from his coat and tossed it onto the table.
“In this condition, you still have the nerve to drink that potion again?”
“How else will you trust my words? In this state, I’d rather not be dragged before the Security Force.”
After swallowing the Truth Potion, Cliff drained glass after glass as he spoke—he would fulfill the promise he’d made to Udith at the Salon last time, he just wanted to avoid prison.
“You’ll tell me everything?”
“Yes. Where would you like to start? Never mind—I’ll tell you from the beginning.”
He began with the story of when Cedrick, the last surviving member of the Rainhardt family, had died.
“I went to find you for the funeral, and you were in prison at the time.”
Ern’s colleagues had disappeared one by one under the Guillotine. By the time he’d received a Not Guilty Verdict and walked free, there were scarcely anyone close to him left. He’d lived in a stupor of drinking, seeing almost no one but the Inn keeper and the Tavern owner.
“Back then, it seemed I could kill you and seize the Nobility Title.”
“So you poisoned the liquor I was drinking?”
“Yes. I’m the one who poisoned your drinks. I was the last person you met.”
Cliff swallowed his drink like water.
“I was uneasy. I thought you might take your chance and come to kill me. That’s why I sent an assassin—to strike first before you could come for my life.”
“The Tavern owner who died in a carriage accident—that was you too?”
“He saw me poison your glass. I simply took care of it.”
There was nothing to fault in that explanation. Yes, coveting a Nobility Title, he could poison a man’s drink. He could want someone dead. Ern understood that much.
“My turn to ask now. What did you do to my corpse?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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