I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 36
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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 36
Knock-knock.
The knocking sounded again.
Knock-knock.
Who was it? Udite turned her head, but the horse whinnied sharply and began scraping at the ground with its hooves. The horse couldn’t speak, but it felt like a warning not to open the door. Udite stood frozen, unable to decide, when the knocking came once more.
Knock-knock.
“Miss Herington, are you in there?”
It was Erne’s voice.
Knock-knock.
The knocking continued. Udite swallowed hard. It was unmistakably Erne’s voice, but it couldn’t be him. It couldn’t possibly be him. There was no way someone burning with fever, who could barely sit up, had suddenly recovered and come to her room.
Then what was that? Udite stood frozen, as if her feet had taken root to the floor.
Knock-knock.
“Madam, are you there?”
Henry? The voice had suddenly changed, and Udite nearly cried out. Something was mimicking the voices.
“Miss Herington, are you in there?”
Now it sounded like the Young Miss Briggs. Udite clapped both hands over her mouth. Whatever was outside kept asking if she was here. She had the terrible premonition that if it discovered she was inside, something dreadful would happen.
“Miss Herington, are you in there?”
Knock-knock.
The knocking grew louder. Udite didn’t even breathe.
Knock-knock-knock.
The knocking became more violent, and the voice that had been mimicking the Countess now shifted to Cliff.
“Your Excellency, are you there?”
Pound-pound.
The knocking had become the sound of fists hammering against wood. With each pound that shook the door, Udite pressed her lips tighter.
Your Excellency are you there pound-pound Miss Herington are you in there pound-pound-pound you’re inside pound pound I know it bang bang-bang-bang-bang inside and bang-bang-bang-bang-bang you’re there bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang inside bang-bang-bang-bang-bang there you are bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang—
The door shook as if it would splinter at any moment.
Gasp—Udite’s breath caught, and her instinct drove her hand toward the pot. Whether a pot could actually stand against whatever was out there, she had no idea. But she needed something, anything, to hold.
“…….”
The instant her fingers touched the pot’s handle, the frantic pounding and shrieking outside ceased abruptly.
…… Was it gone?
Udite’s legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor. Cold sweat trickled down her spine. Her breath, which she’d been holding, came rushing out, and fearing that the sound might bring it back, she bit her lip without thinking.
How much time had passed? In a haze, a long whinny pierced the silence from outside. The horse’s cry brought Udite back to herself. The terror that had flooded her throat finally began to recede.
Udite turned toward the window. Dawn was breaking. The horse paced back and forth, then stopped when she approached the window.
What had it been trying to warn her about? Gathering her courage, Udite opened the window. As cold air rushed in, she thought of Erne too late. Erne—would he be all right? She found a small comfort in knowing he’d been bedridden and couldn’t have opened his door.
Still trembling, Udite slowly opened her chamber door. The corridor lay silent and empty. Not yet releasing the tension, she stepped forward cautiously. Nothing happened. Only then did she venture fully into the hallway. Her foot crunched on something. Udite lowered her head slowly.
“…… Dust?”
There was only dust there.
* * *
Erne’s condition had worsened since yesterday. Henry, who came to pay his respects, made no effort to hide his troubled thoughts.
“I fear Erne may not recover from this.”
He muttered through tears—to think that he had come back as an Undecaying Corpse and lived again, only to be killed by another Undecaying Corpse. What cruel fate was this?
By then, Udite was beginning to feel the strain as well.
“Sir Henry, about the others—did any of them mention symptoms besides the fever?”
“Other symptoms, you say?”
Henry paused, thinking, then spoke.
“Some have reported hearing Auditory Hallucinations.”
“Auditory Hallucinations?”
“Yes, they said their departed mother came knocking at the door.”
Their departed mother came knocking? Udite swallowed.
“So they opened the door, but there was no one there. That’s when the symptoms began that very night, he said.”
Suddenly, she remembered Erne asking her before his fever started,
“Did you come to my room last night?”
Had she opened the door for him? Udite sighed and pressed her palm to her brow. If Erne hadn’t been ill, she would have opened the door immediately at the sound of his voice.
“Why do you ask, madam?”
“Well, it’s…”
Udite’s thoughts wouldn’t settle. Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment, then she drew a breath.
“I’ve been thinking, Sir Henry. I suspect the dust is the culprit.”
Auditory Hallucinations of someone familiar knocking at the door—whether truly hallucinations or not, let’s call them that. In any case, the symptoms begin when one is deceived by these hallucinations and opens the door.
But if one doesn’t open the door, the symptoms don’t appear. Yesterday she heard the Auditory Hallucinations, but today Udite was perfectly fine. She didn’t even have a fever. If the Auditory Hallucinations marked the beginning of the illness, then Udite believed those who heard them must have something in common.
Suddenly, the image of the dust that had been piled quietly before her door yesterday flashed through Udite’s mind. Dust. Yes, the dust.
“I beg your pardon? Dust?”
“Yes. The day Erne came back after seeing the Mummy, he was covered in dust. When he opened the coffin, it billowed up everywhere.”
Erne had shaken out his clothes and body twice at the Auction House, yet he’d still brought back dust clinging to him. Hustleton and Beto must have been the same. Dust would certainly have remained on their garments and hair.
“Since both are men, the valets would have dressed them in fresh clothes. But the laundry—”
“The laundry maid would have handled it.”
So the laundry maid at Beto’s residence was dead. Yet the question lingered still. Why had Erne’s symptoms manifested later than the others? And why did the Auditory Hallucination appear even later in Udite, who’d inhaled the Dust?
“In any case, I’m grateful for your time today, Henry.”
Mysteries piled upon mysteries, and Udite longed to speak with Henry further, but she had somewhere she needed to be.
“Don’t trouble yourself on my account, madam. Attend to your business.”
Udite gathered her candles and prepared to leave. Even with Erne ill, work could not wait. Smith would not lower the interest simply because he was unwell. If anything, medicine would cost more, making it impossible to rest.
Since the Golden Candle had passed to Leon, her orders had dwindled to half of half, yet she was not without income. Her accomplices—Layla, the Briggs Baron’s daughter, and Ferdi, the Marquess’s wife—continued to purchase candles from her without fail.
“While you’re out, would you mind purchasing some Fever Reducer? I notice the bottle is empty.”
“Of course.”
The Fever Reducer had ceased to take effect at some point, yet she could not simply stop giving it to him.
‘The Fever Reducer is not the answer.’
A different approach was needed. The Mummy, the Dust, something that mimicked voices. Medicine seemed powerless against it. But where could she learn the truth of what this was?
Lost in thought, Udite arrived at the Briggs Baron’s Residence. She’d intended to hand over the candles and leave at once, but Layla would not permit such a hasty escape.
* * *
“Udite, I need you to come somewhere with me.”
“Somewhere? Where?”
With her preparations complete, Layla smoothly drew Udite toward the carriage, as naturally as water flowing downstream.
“To find that spirit medium who sold me the Ring. I’ve learned where he is. I can’t just sit idle after nearly falling into serious trouble because of something I bought from him.”
Still indignant at the memory, Layla’s delicate brows furrowed.
“But why should I accompany you there, Miss Briggs?”
“Because you’re my accomplice. And you’re the one who identified what the Ring was by consulting another spirit medium. Come and confront him with me.”
“I’d dearly like to, but I’m afraid today I—”
“I’ll pay you daily wages.”
“Then let us go. I promise I shall secure your refund.”
Udite opened the carriage door herself and offered Layla her arm. It wasn’t avarice driving her, even if Erne was dying. The daily wage would let her buy better Fever Reducer, or perhaps purchase meat for broth to feed him.
‘Besides, Ceres is a spirit medium who deals in Curses. He might know something about the Mummy.’
Though the goods he peddled were defective, surely he possessed more knowledge of such things than an ordinary person.
‘Since I’m going anyway, I might as well ask.’
But suddenly a question bloomed in her mind. Layla had no shortage of money—so why did she insist on demanding a refund?
“It’s infuriating. How dare he swindle me?”
Ah. A matter of wounded pride.
* * *
“You charlatan.”
The moment they arrived at the spirit medium Ceres’s tent, Layla lashed out coldly.
“Pardon me? I don’t understand. Please, have a seat first. Let us sit and discuss this properly.”
Ceres, who appeared to be in his early forties, seemed accustomed to such scenes. With practiced ease, he soothed the agitated Layla into a chair.
A clever strategy to win her over with courtesy—though it proved ineffective on Udite. Udite gave Layla a knowing look that said ‘let me handle this,’ and calmly pressed Ceres about the Ring on her behalf.
“The item you sold caused the Baron’s daughter considerable distress.”
“My goodness, is that so? I sincerely apologize. I shall do whatever the young lady requires.”
When Ceres lowered his posture and offered complete compliance, even Udite found it awkward to press further.
“I only hope the young lady might understand my circumstances as well.”
“Your circumstances?”
Ceres’s circumstances were these: he was merely a retailer who obtained Amulets cursed with Curse Magic and sold them. The manufacturer handled all refunds and cleanup. So whether she wanted a refund or anything else, she should direct her demands to whoever made it.
“This is absurd. You’re telling me to find the maker myself?”
“Not at all. If the young lady wishes, a spirit medium from Red Wine will come to see you.”
Wait. Did he just say who?
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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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