I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 5

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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 5
Henry tried to collect himself as he heard Udite’s trembling voice murmuring, “My heart isn’t beating.” Should he call a doctor? The Public Order Guard? Wait—I’m with the Public Order Guard!
His head throbbed with confusion as he pressed his fingers to his temples, and he caught sight of Udite’s shaking hands trying to pull the white cloth away completely.
“Wait, madam!”
Even in his disorientation, Henry called out to Udite urgently.
“Please avert your eyes from Ern!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“He’s unclothed.”
“Oh…….”
The cloth fell from Udite’s hands, and Henry had preserved his friend’s dignity.
* * *
‘How did a buried corpse end up in the forest?’
The mystery remained, but Henry and Udite had cleared up their misunderstanding.
For now, Ern’s body had been moved to the Rainhardt Mansion. Udite found it distasteful to keep a corpse in the house, but there was no choice. Normally, the Morgue wouldn’t accept a body without the Public Order Guard captain’s permission, but Henry had used his connections to place Ern’s remains there temporarily.
But that would only last a day or two—no longer.
‘If I report Ern’s death as suspicious to the Public Order Guard, it’ll cause an uproar.’
A corpse that didn’t decay—and if it turned out to be a bastard of House Rainhardt? Rumors tied to the Rainhardt Mansion would balloon and spiral beyond control. And at the same time, word would spread about the Countess remaining in the house.
‘I might be dragged in for questioning by the Public Order Guard.’
In the worst case, I could be arrested and interrogated. From Udite’s own perspective, she looked the most suspicious in this entire situation.
‘Then I won’t make my candle delivery deadline.’
And that wasn’t all. If word got out that candles were being manufactured and sold from the Rainhardt Mansion, unlucky as it was, existing orders might be cancelled. Then she wouldn’t be able to repay the interest, and if she couldn’t repay the interest, Smith would come calling, and then she’d be dragged into the living hell Smith had prepared.
Just thinking about what would follow made her head pound.
‘This absolutely cannot happen.’
Udite had persuaded Henry to remove Ern’s body from the Morgue. Fortunately, Henry had no desire for Ern to undergo an autopsy.
“If he’d died ordinarily, perhaps, but in this state, he’d only be subjected to dissection under the guise of an autopsy.”
And above all, Henry was,
“I want to help Ern find peace. I know a skilled Shaman.”
a Divination enthusiast.
Henry was the sort of man who believed that precisely such bizarre incidents required that kind of assistance.
“Do you perhaps harbor any discomfort toward ‘them’?”
‘Them’ referred to the Shartin People. Making their living through Divination, they were originally from the Desert peoples and had been incorporated into the Empire roughly a century ago.
But despite the passage of considerable time, they had never integrated with the Empire’s people. Imperial citizens sought out the Shartin for readings while simultaneously scorning and oppressing them. Some even openly despised them. Henry had asked merely to confirm whether Udite belonged to that sort of person.
“That’s not it, but…….”
After all, she wasn’t from this world to begin with, so she could hardly have personal feelings about the Shartin People.
Only, very much only.
“I’m sorry to bring this up in such circumstances, but a skilled Shaman must be quite expensive, wouldn’t they?”
“…….”
Henry looked at Udite as if to say, “You’re seriously asking that now?” and Udite held up two fingers, whispering quietly, “I have two hundred million Gold in debt.”
“…I’ll cover it.”
“You’re a good man, Henry.”
* * *
The next day, Henry set out to find a skilled Shaman.
Ern still looked alive. No rigor mortis had set in, and his pupils had not become clouded. Something was terribly, irreversibly wrong. Faced with a situation she had no idea how to handle, Udite bit at her nails. One thing was certain—if Ern continued to exist as a corpse that wouldn’t decay, it would be disastrous for her.
‘If only I’d found him alone, I could have buried him somewhere.’
But she’d witnessed it with Henry, so that wasn’t an option. Udite stopped gnawing at her nails, set her jaw with determination, and turned toward the fireplace.
If he wouldn’t decay naturally, she’d have to make him decay.
“I’m sorry, Ern.”
But you’ll understand I have no other choice, won’t you? Udite fed the Firewood she’d brought into the fireplace. She was hoping that if the room warmed up, perhaps Ern would begin to decompose.
Udite was now grasping at straws. She desperately hoped this would be resolved quickly. What if the Shaman Henry brought also failed?
“I’m not comfortable with this myself, either. If word gets out that there’s a corpse that won’t decay, the property value won’t go up.”
So you’ll have to follow nature’s course. Though Udite felt sorry for Ern, she could not abandon the mansion valued at four hundred million Gold, her title as Countess, or the candle business that was finally on track.
In this strange world where the Status System and capitalism coexisted, rank and money were both her spear and her shield.
“…….”
Udite paused as she turned to leave. Unexpected guilt seized her by the ankle. It was like abandoning someone who was ill. Was it because he looked so alive?
“What else could this be but a Living Corpse?”
Neither alive nor dead. If there were consciousness, she might have suspected a zombie or a jiangshi, but there was none.
It was unbelievable. Udite brought her finger back to the space beneath Ern’s nose. Still, no breath. Instead, a smudge came into view that hadn’t been apparent before. Dried mud clung in patches beneath his jaw, behind his ears, and across his shoulders.
She had never conducted a funeral herself, but she knew there was a procedure to cleanse the body before the rites. Udite decided that before the Shaman arrived, she would clean Ern, who would soon be gone, as an act of atonement.
“Then I beg your pardon.”
Udite brought a wet Towel and began to wash Ern’s body. Mud clung not only to his face and neck, but scattered across his upper torso as well.
“Did you roll around in the mud or something?”
She posed the question to no one—the dead offered no reply. Udite pressed on, murmuring to herself.
“How can a chest be this broad?”
Whether it was natural bone structure or the fruits of relentless training, Ern’s body simply wasn’t built to lie on its side. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his ribcage thick and solid, his waist tapered, yet his abdominal muscles were sharply defined.
While she had him stripped down anyway, Udite examined him carefully for fresh wounds. But there were none—only old scars, layered across his skin like a chronicle of past violence. One in particular ran diagonally from his lower abdomen all the way up to his hip bone.
“Oh my…”
As her fingers traced the scar’s path downward, Udite caught her breath. She’d gone further than she’d meant to. In this life and the last, she’d never laid eyes on a man’s naked form before today—but she could tell Ern was exceptional.
“Forgive me.”
Ern lay perfectly still, but Udite’s face had flushed crimson. She quickly drew the cloth up over his neck, covering him from view.
* * *
Forty-nine days since the wedding.
“The spirit is trapped within the body. How pitiable.”
Only after the fireplace embers had died and the day had turned did Henry bring the Shaman. Finding him had taken time, he explained—the man wandered without fixed residence, drifting from place to place.
“To be bound when one ought to depart, unable to ascend—what anguish such a soul must endure.”
Udite had imagined someone elderly, a wizened old woman renowned for her powers. Instead, she found herself facing a young man with bronzed skin and amber eyes—every feature of the Shartin People rendered in flesh.
“Then Ern’s body cannot decay? Cannot return to soil?”
“Precisely. The flesh has been made a prison—by what means, I cannot say.”
Neither the body decomposing nor the spirit escaping, the Shaman explained in a voice of grave portent. Well, at least it sounded plausible enough.
“What must we do to set Ern free?”
“Open the Three Gates.”
“Gates?”
“Yes. Within every human body exist Three Gates.”
When a person dies, these three gates open of their own accord, allowing the spirit to ascend. Yet somehow, Ern had failed to open them.
“Why won’t the gates open?”
“Those who train their bodies to the extreme, as Ern has done, sometimes manifest this condition.”
The explanation was thin, and Udite frowned—but Henry was already nodding along eagerly. Though something about it rankled her, she held her tongue. The man paying the bill seemed satisfied enough.
“In any case, the crucial matter is this: the gates must be opened.”
Once that was accomplished, the Shaman continued, Ern’s spirit would ascend to the heavens and his body would return to the earth.
“Will you attempt this with me?”
The Shaman extended both hands, his voice low and coaxing.
“Yes, yes—of course.”
Henry seized his hands firmly and nodded with fervent enthusiasm.
“How does one open these gates?”
“A Transcendence Ritual must be performed.”
Was he seriously suggesting a séance? Convenient—this script writes itself, doesn’t it?

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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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