I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 8

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

Chapter 8
“Ah, well… I borrowed a bit more money.”
Udith swallowed hard. She’d told Henry only that she’d taken on the Rainlandt Family’s debts in his stead—she hadn’t revealed the full details of the arrangement.
“I started a business venture, you see. The startup capital fell short, so I borrowed a bit more.”
“From a Loan Shark? Don’t tell me—Smith?”
Henry, who had been listening quietly until then, interjected, and Udith nodded.
“You already owed 200 million gold, and he lent you more? I’ve heard Smith is absolutely vicious.”
The rumors must have been exaggerated. Ern and Henry exchanged glances of evident bewilderment.
“Well… he didn’t just lend it freely.”
Udith licked her lips, her eyes darting restlessly, betraying her anxiety.
“I put down collateral.”
“You had something to offer as collateral?”
“Yes, well… my Title, and…”
“A Title can be used as collateral?”
Clearing her throat awkwardly, Udith admitted that she’d agreed to make Smith her adopted son.
Henry shook his head slowly, while Ern clicked his tongue at what he called a remarkably creative form of collateral.
“You’ve gained a son before the wedding night’s even been consummated.”
“He’s not my son yet.”
Once I pay back the debt, he won’t be, Udith said mournfully.
“But madam, aside from the Title, what else did you pledge?”
I heard you say ‘Title and,’ Henry pressed shrewdly, and Udith hesitated longer this time before smiling sheepishly and pointing at herself with one finger.
“A physical surrender clause.”
Udith hurried to explain that it was only meant for situations where she couldn’t repay the debt or transfer the Title, but she failed to convince either man. Ern and Henry simultaneously sucked their teeth and sighed, regarding her as if she were some alien creature.
“You’re insane.”
For the first time, Udith received recognition from the Empire’s mad dog—that she was crazier than he was.
“What on earth were you thinking?”
Even Henry, who’d been subtly sympathetic to her cause, rebuked her for this.
“Gentlemen.”
Udith clapped her hands sharply to regain their attention.
“I can pay it back. There’s no problem. The business is doing wonderfully.”
She looked between Henry and Ern as she continued her explanation.
“Once property values return to normal, I’ll earn 400 million gold. After paying off the debt, I’ll have 200 million left. If we split that fifty-fifty, how much would that be?”
“100 million gold?”
Ern answered as if entranced, and Udith applauded him approvingly.
“Exactly. Sir Ern, just think—where else could you earn 100 million gold? How much work would it take?”
Ern nodded, conceding that 100 million gold would indeed require considerable labor.
“But if we can earn that kind of money simply by living in this mansion for a few years, without having to toil endlessly for it?”
Ern was intrigued. As someone who found nearly everything tedious, he still needed coin to buy himself a drink now and then. The prospect of earning money without the bother of work was certainly appealing.
Besides, if he was to investigate his own death and everything surrounding it, he needed to stay close to Udith for now. According to Henry, there hadn’t been a lie in anything Udith had said, but that hardly meant he could set aside his suspicions entirely. So, all things considered, this arrangement wasn’t bad.
“But until the property values rise? You’ll need living expenses at minimum.”
“I’m already earning enough to cover interest and living costs.”
At Udith’s reply, Ern’s lips curved upward languidly.
“Then all I need do is stay here quietly and remain alive.”
The implication was deeply ominous, and Udith’s throat went dry.
“It sounds like you’re saying you won’t do any work at all, Sir Ern—though I’m probably mistaken?”
“No, you heard me perfectly.”
He leaned back languidly against the headboard and nodded. Like a lazy lion, his posture seemed to say: I’ll stay here and feed, so you’d better be the one doing the hunting.
“Living expenses are going to be spent anyway. What difference does one more spoon at the table make?”
Who are you to make that judgment when you don’t earn a thing? Udith cursed him silently with her eyes, and Ern, with his infuriating smile, finally opened his mouth.
“Then shall we file for an annulment? I don’t mind either way, but it might be rather disadvantageous for you.”
If she reverted from Countess Rainlandt to Miss Herrington, that Loan Shark who’d been on the verge of becoming her adopted son would come running at full speed, eager to sell her prettily into slavery to whoever would take her.
At his murmured words, Udith’s fists clenched. He was hateful. So hateful. Shouldn’t the nickname change from the Empire’s mad dog to the Empire’s shameless scoundrel?
“What will you do?”
Ern raised both hands indifferently. Udith’s fists trembled, but she had no choice but to nod. One way or another, maintaining the marriage was to her advantage.
“Don’t worry. I just need alcohol.”
It was the moment a drunkard entered Udith’s life.
“Oh, and clothes too.”
A drunkard who hadn’t a thread to his name.
* * *
“What on earth is she thinking?”
“What about it.”
“You’re saying you’ll go on living as a corpse? Why?”
Ern was dressed in clothes Henry had brought him, sewn together haphazardly, and now wandered through the Market with the hood of his Robe pulled low over his head.
“That way, whoever killed me will drop his guard and get careless.”
He drew a Short Sword from a weapon merchant’s rack and swung it lightly, testing its balance.
“Whoever did this had a purpose—they wouldn’t have killed me and forced marriage on the corpse without one. He’ll make contact soon enough.”
This was no crime of passion. It was murder with deliberate intent, yet the purpose and method remained entirely obscure. No matter how little someone valued their own life, or how desperately they longed for death, the existence of a corpse that refused to decay was deeply unsettling. Ern felt it too.
“If he knew I was alive, he’d go to ground. Then things would just get messier for me—no point in that.”
The killer would be found. Ern was resolved to it. Though he’d been dead and unconscious, the mere fact that someone else had done as they pleased with his body was deeply offensive.
“Could it be the Curse?”
“The Curse?”
“Not long ago, I was speaking with your wife about that accursed manor. There’s a rumor it devours people—so I asked if she wasn’t frightened living alone there.”
And so she told him, Henry continued.
“When you think about it, it’s not the manor itself that’s cursed—it’s the Rainlandt Family, or rather someone of the current generation. And come to think of it, that makes sense. You may have severed ties with your family, but a Curse wouldn’t care about such circumstances.”
If someone had laid a Curse to drain all living blood of the Rainlandt line, Ern couldn’t have escaped it.
“It wouldn’t be that. The corpse’s condition is different.”
Though he’d cut himself off from the Family, Ern still heard rumors about the Count’s household. They said one of them had become a drained corpse in a single day.
He knew one way such corpses were made. He couldn’t be certain the Count’s family had died that way, but he was sure he hadn’t.
“Well, in any case, once I catch the killer, everything will come clear.”
“So you’re living with the Countess until you catch him?”
“It has to be. There’s a good chance the killer will approach her again.”
“And after you catch him? Are you really going to live there until the property value goes up?”
Ern’s brow furrowed as he selected an off-the-rack shirt, trousers, and a large Robe with a deep hood at the clothing shop.
“Of course not.”
Udith seemed to think Ern coveted the Title and the estate, but he had no such interest. When the Rainlandt Family had sent assassins, ordering him not to covet the Count’s Rank, he’d toyed with the idea of just taking everything from them in return.
But now that the entire Count’s household was dead, that impulse had vanished too. Inheriting the Title meant paperwork to process, taxes to pay—the thought alone exhausted him. And he had no desire to become a Count anyway.
“But she did sweeten the deal: pocket money without having to work, and half the proceeds when the estate sells. That part was tempting.”
Of course, it was a joke. He had no intention of remaining tethered to Udith for mere pennies. Yet he had no other plans either. Up until now, Ern had done only what the Knight Order demanded of him. But if there’s nothing left to do, how should he live?
‘That’s something to figure out after I finish what needs doing.’
Ern dismissed the lengthy train of thought. Deep contemplation and careful deliberation didn’t suit his nature.
“Didn’t you catch the look on your wife’s face when she handed over your allowance?”
He did. Udith made no effort to hide her reluctance. If he’d pressed for more, she looked ready to draw a blade. He could feel genuine murderous intent radiating from her.
“But thinking about it—did you ever claim your Knight Order pension?”
“No.”
“Then why not take that and live on it? Stop worrying about her feelings and scrounging for pocket money.”
“No.”
No? Henry’s eyes narrowed with confusion as he studied Ern.
“She’s the one who insisted on taking me in first. Why would I need to spend my own pension?”
The man spoke of sponging off his wife with remarkable confidence, Henry thought. He almost pitied Udith, saddled with this creature.
“And when you bring up splitting the estate proceeds fifty-fifty like you promised, she looks like she’d hire an assassin on the spot.”
Ern found Udith’s blatant avarice—the most naked display of greed he’d ever witnessed—quite fascinating.
“That’s real money hunger in her eyes.”
“Don’t speak of a lady that way, Ern. If you won’t say ‘ma’am,’ call her Miss Herington, or use her name.”
Ignoring Henry’s scolding, Ern recalled the sight of Udith hunched over, making candles. Her pale face humming tunelessly, she’d been so absorbed that she didn’t notice when Ern made noise behind her, cleared his throat, or knocked on the door.
She claimed she had to work hard because of her debts—but shouldn’t it be impossible to focus after witnessing a corpse come back to life? Yet Udith concentrated on her candle-making as if nothing had happened. Like she was bewitched.
“You weren’t perhaps in that manor when…. Never mind.”
“What, you’ve opened your mouth—finish the thought.”
“It’s nothing important. Go to the constabulary and borrow a spade.”
“A spade? What for?”
As Henry asked, Ern looked at him with an expression that suggested this was an absurdly obvious question.
“I need to dig my own grave.”

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