I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 30

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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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Episode 30
“Tell the Countess I’m sorry. I won’t trouble her again. Or you, for that matter.”
Whether it was an apology or a farewell, Cliff left those words behind before the Security Force dragged him away. Ern started to ask if he thought he’d actually touch anyone, then simply waved her hand in dismissal.
“Did the conversation end well?”
Mosley entered the space Cliff had left. Ern’s mind was still churning.
The corpse had gone to the Followers. According to Cliff’s theory, they’d conducted experiments on it.
“You said Roam escaped right before his execution?”
“That’s correct.”
“Cliff or his butler might have helped. They’re Followers too, after all.”
“I’ll investigate thoroughly.”
But unfortunately, the Marquis’s plans had unraveled from the start. Two of the Followers took their own lives on the way out, and the third died from the Binding Curse.
And the Butler wouldn’t open his mouth, no matter how harsh the interrogation. The only thing he said was this:
“Our Master will return soon.”
After that, he bit through his own tongue.
‘The Followers took my corpse.’
There were signs they’d conducted some experiment. But what kind of experiment, she couldn’t say. Why they’d left the body in the forest, either.
* * *
“Maybe they just threw it out thinking the experiment had failed? That’s what Henry said—the forest where the corpse was found was so deep that only herb gatherers go there.”
Judith, listening to Ern’s account, speculated that the Followers had abandoned Ern after the experiment failed. It made sense. But only the Followers would know the truth.
Mosley promised to share information with Ern. It wasn’t entirely trustworthy, but she couldn’t afford to refuse or delegate the task. No matter how skilled Ern was, she couldn’t possibly find the Followers hidden throughout this vast Empire on her own, even with help from allies.
And more than anything,
“I—I don’t have the money to pay the interest.”
“What about the money you got from Cliff?”
“I paid last month’s interest, and then there was our living expenses. Now it’s gone.”
A financial crisis had descended.
* * *
Every month, Smith collected two million Gold in interest alone—money Judith would have to make by selling over a thousand candles.
Fortunately, if that word even applied, the Gilded Loom had kept the interest manageable until now. Judith’s customers had consistently overpaid, and the material supplier had constantly given discounts. But now that all those small mercies had vanished and competitors had emerged, Judith was in serious trouble.
“…Maybe I really do need to adopt Smith.”
At Judith’s sigh-laden mutter, Ern’s brows drew together.
“That loan shark isn’t even older than me, is he?”
Ern wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“I’ll scrape together every coin we have and pay him, then try to negotiate.”
“Do you think he’ll negotiate? I heard he’s ruthless.”
“We’ve had a decent enough relationship. Maybe he’ll make an exception.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Well, if we put a blade to his throat, maybe then he’ll make an exception.”
“And who’s going to put that blade to his throat?”
Judith stared at Ern directly. If not you, then who? Her eyes gleamed with something almost manic. At any other time, Ern might have joked that she wasn’t the type to threaten just anyone. But this time, she was serious.
At this rate, she really would end up sitting next to Judith with nothing to show for it but idle fingers.
“Let me try asking first. If Smith still threatens to sell me out even after that, then you step in.”
“How many subordinates does he have?”
“At a rough glance? About twenty?”
About twenty at a rough glance? That meant there were probably more. And all of them armed. Still, most of them probably hadn’t trained properly with a blade. If things went well, Ern figured she could at least get Judith out of there.
That’s what Ern had thought before following Judith to Smith’s Office.
* * *
“…About twenty at a rough glance? How is that twenty, Judith?”
“There weren’t nearly this many last time.”
Judith’s eyes slid away from Ern’s gaze.
Four men alone guarded the entrance. The corridor leading to Smith’s office was lined endlessly with rough, brutal-looking thugs. And Smith himself had the worst expression of them all.
“Countess Rainlandt, welcome.”
Smith greeted Judith with a bright smile, a man who looked like a loan shark even if you saw him on horseback. His sparse, shabby mustache was calculating and vicious, a face that would pursue a debtor to hell itself if it meant collecting money.
“Is that a servant behind you?”
Ern’s face twisted. His eye for detail was terrible. No matter how much she covered her face, how could anyone mistake her for a servant?
“Or perhaps a lover?”
Smith’s eyes went sly as he whispered the words. Disgusting. Ern’s brow furrowed so deeply her eyebrows nearly touched, while Judith smiled as if nothing were amiss.
Such thick skin. While Ern was thinking that, Judith spoke in the most pitiful and obsequious tone she could muster.
“This is this month’s interest, sir. I was hoping to ask you for something—”
“Impossible.”
Before Judith could even finish, Smith refused flatly.
“No,”
“I’m afraid not, ma’am. You can’t get blood from a stone—you know how it is.”
Smith shook his head and made a wringing motion with his hands.
“I’m not asking you to defer all the interest. Couldn’t we just push back half of next month’s interest to the month after?”
“That simply won’t do.”
Smith was firm.
“Business hasn’t been going well, I take it?”
Judith nodded glumly. At that, Smith tapped the table and opened his mouth.
“How about I show you how to squeeze water from a dry cloth?”
“Perhaps you could offer some work instead?”
Smith gestured at Ern with his fleshy chin.
“Your servant here looks rather strong, ma’am. Strong hands can do a lot of work.”
His oily eyes raked over Ern from head to toe.
“Listen here, Smith—keep your eyes to yourself. You’ve got all this money; it’d be a shame if you couldn’t see it properly, wouldn’t it?”
Ern, who was quite displeased, shot back with a sharp retort, but the answer came from an unexpected quarter.
“Yes, what a shame—a real shame.”
……
Wait, why are you answering for me? Ern stared at the Gold Ring on Smith’s finger with barely concealed envy, then found herself speechless as Judith nodded along.
“Whether servant or lover, the temperament is certainly agreeable.”
Smith, amused rather than offended by the barb, laughed with evident satisfaction. Is this man a pervert?
“By the look of those hands, you’re a seasoned fighter, and hot-blooded to boot.”
He’s really taking my measure. Ern was so exasperated by the situation—being evaluated by a mere moneylender—that she’d moved past anger entirely.
“I happen to know of work perfectly suited to someone like you, ma’am. Have you heard of the Colosseum?”
“The Colosseum? That’s where people fight for money, isn’t it?”
“A friend of mine runs the place, and he’s been complaining lately that there aren’t any fresh faces. Shall I write you a Letter of Recommendation, ma’am?”
When Smith mentioned that simply stepping into the Colosseum as a competitor would earn twenty thousand Gold, Judith’s eyes went wide.
“Why ask something so obvious? Write it right now, please.”
……You could at least ask my opinion. You’re not the one going out there to fight. When someone is so utterly absurd, words simply fail you—and that was precisely Ern’s situation now.
Judith received the Letter of Recommendation from Smith with a bright smile, then hooked her arm through Ern’s and whisked him out of the office before he could protest.
“The Colosseum is illegal.”
Dragged along, Ern looked thoroughly displeased.
“A person can’t live their whole life doing only legal things.”
No—you’re supposed to try.
“Didn’t you say you’re the sort who doesn’t need laws?”
“Ah, my principles are simply too flexible.”
Everything about her was flexible, everything. How exasperating. Ern turned his head away with displeasure, but Judith caught his arm and shook it playfully.
“You’re good at fighting, aren’t you?”
The way money works at the Colosseum is simple: two competitors enter the arena, and spectators bet on whoever looks likely to win. Once the match is decided, the victor takes the entire pot.
Even at fifty-fifty odds, picking the winner isn’t easy. But if you know someone who’s exceptionally skilled at fighting? If you could back a fighter who dispatches hired killers like they’re nothing?
“The minor thugs who fight at the Colosseum wouldn’t stand a chance against you. Not a chance at all.”
You’d win every time, Ern. Judith gave him a thumbs up and continued heaping flattery on him—claiming there was no one else with his kind of skill.

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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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