My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 160

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Even at my response, the Duke looked at me with suspicion. He seemed curious about what kind of extraordinary method I was planning to use that would make me, who always acted selfishly, actually ask for his opinion.

I slowly explained to the Duke what method I intended to use. As expected, the Duke was extremely furious. However, unlike before, he didn’t grab me by the collar, throw objects, or raise his voice.

His flushed face represented his unresolved anger, but when I asked if there was any other alternative method, he eventually nodded his head as if his energy had been drained.

“Can you promise that this method will definitely catch the rat?”

“Yes. Of course.”

The Duke finally gave his permission. I thought it would be difficult to persuade him, but I received permission much more easily than expected. I attributed this to the successful completion of my Duke conquest strategy.

Riding this momentum, I decided to make one more request. I should ask if there’s a place to evacuate the manor’s people.

“Ah, and there’s one more thing I’d like to ask.”

“What is it now?”

“There’s one more story I’d like to hear from Grandfather. Do you happen to know of a safe refuge where all the servants of a noble family could hide?”

At my question, the Duke’s face contorted sharply.

“I said I would give you time, not that I would provide you with a location.”

He was referring to our initial agreement. I had secured conversation time with the Duke in exchange for catching the rat. But where does he get off trying to pull a fast one on me? Simply receiving time wasn’t the only compensation, was it? Does he take me for a fool?

“Do you remember what you first promised me, Grandfather?”

“Yes. In exchange for catching the rat, I agreed to give you my time.”

At the Duke’s words, I shook my head and corrected him.

“No. To be precise, Grandfather agreed to tell me stories.”

What I had specifically requested wasn’t just time, but for him to tell me stories about Amaranth.

In truth, the stories about Amaranth I heard from the Duke weren’t very nutritious. The Duke’s focus was on Agera, and Amaranth was positioned as something like a byproduct of that love.

His affection for his daughter was relatively lacking, and moreover, the Duke was the typical ‘father who treated his daughter coldly only to regret it later’ commonly found in romance novels. So the Duke’s recollections of Amaranth were extremely faint and hazy.

Memories should be soft and spongy, making your feet sink with each step until you eventually sink into them like a swamp and become thoroughly intoxicated. But the Duke was like barren land. Thanks to my diligent gaslighting, water had at least pooled in the cracks.

How could he know less about Amaranth than me, a possessor? Sometimes I found myself looking at the Duke with pitying eyes without realizing it. These days, even tyrants, masterminds, and villains become doting parents who raise children, but the Duke couldn’t even keep up with trends.

Still, through our occasional meetings, the storytelling progressed smoothly despite the lack of material. The Duke’s stories began from when Amaranth was born and had now reached the same age as me, twenty years old.

The story material was gradually running out, and the Duke’s expression became increasingly gloomy. Probably in the next story, Amaranth would meet Rohanson Viscount. Since they cut ties after that, those were all the stories I could hear from the Duke.

The Duke glared at me as if he wanted to pierce through me. Just moments ago, I had irritated him once with my method for dealing with the ‘rat,’ and now with another round of verbal sparring, his anger seemed not yet subsided.

“You’re playing word games with me.”

Who’s really playing word games here? I wanted to complain to the Duke, but I endured and continued persuading him.

“Is this a difficult story for you to tell me?”

“You’re asking me to hide insurgents. If I lend you territory and the Temple discovers it, you won’t be the only one suffering hardship.”

This stubborn old goat. Since the conquest is complete, stop being difficult and just act like a doting grandfather!

I was doing my best to treat him kindly, but since the Duke didn’t seem likely to give in easily, I had no choice but to use another method. Fine. I’ll have to take a hard line.

I wiped away the smile I had been wearing and hardened my face. Without having to check by touching it with my hands, I could feel my lips stiffen. I stared intently at the Duke and opened my mouth. The voice coming through my mouth felt as if it was resonating in my head.

“It’s not a request, but compensation, Your Grace.”

“…Compensation?”

In the first place, asking him to tell me Amaranth’s stories was just because I needed common ground with the Duke, and there was actually no benefit returning to me. It’s not like I’m obsessed with Mother like that ‘rat.’

“Haven’t you ever heard that compensation is needed when commanding a demon, Your Grace?”

So what I’m saying is that the cost-benefit doesn’t match. Even commanding demons requires compensation, yet you’re trying to work your granddaughter and then wipe your mouth clean. What a conscienceless old man.

“Haven’t I been acting appropriately as Your Grace’s granddaughter during my stay at the Duke’s mansion?”

I habitually tapped the table with my fingernails.

“I’ve been catering to Lady Agera’s moods and attending to her, protecting the servants from the ‘rat,’ and even agreed to catch and kill the ‘rat’ so that Your Grace and Hosaqueen wouldn’t be crushed by the Temple.”

Isn’t this completely being taken for a fool? Though it was nothing new, I realized I had really lived earnestly trying to win the Duke’s favor. The Duke pondered for a moment before asking a question.

“…What if I don’t grant your request?”

“Then I would no longer be Your Grace’s granddaughter. Since there would be no reason to stay at the Duke’s mansion, I’ll return without any regrets.”

“Leaving Agera and that ‘rat’ as they are?”

Of course. If the Duke refuses after I’ve done this much, then I’ll just cut ties. I’ll become Little Amaranth and sever the connection. Even if Agera becomes endangered by being reported to the Temple, I’ll pretend not to know and only seek my own survival.

“Of course, it’s just a hypothesis. If Grandfather provides a place to hide, I’ll continue to remain as Evangeline, Your Grace’s granddaughter.”

“…After the matter is finished, I’ll tell you of a suitable place.”

The Duke, perhaps exhausted from arguing with me, finally sided with me. He weighed the burden of hiding the Rohanson people against the danger when I would flee leaving Agera and the ‘rat’ behind, and the scale tipped toward Agera.

“You’re a child who can never be loved.”

The Duke condemned me. It seemed like he was deliberately trying to hurt me. The composure he showed when he threw wine glasses at our first meeting hadn’t gone anywhere. As expected of a classic family regret story. Even if the Duke acted like a doting fool now, it would be character destruction.

“Oh my. You speak as if you ever made an effort to love me.”

“…”

At my words, the Duke seemed more hurt than I was. So why did you act coy when the conquest was already complete?

***

News spread that Agera Hosaqueen, the mistress of the Hosaqueen Ducal House, was critically ill.

“Heavens, what shall we do about our lady.”

The servants of the ducal house were greatly agitated. Within the ducal house, Agera’s health was considered more important than the rumors of Evangeline Rohanson being a witch.

Rather, upon hearing that Evangeline was devoted to nursing Agera, they became angry, saying that the story of Evangeline setting fire to Rohanson Manor was all false accusations.

The news of Agera’s critical condition spread incredibly fast. If rumors had feet, they would surely be those of a thousand-li horse.

Overnight, it spread even to the capital, to the extent that even street children with no interest in the Hosaqueen family knew of the Hosaqueen lady’s critical condition. The people of the Hosaqueen Ducal House thought the reason the rumors spread so quickly was because there were so many eyes watching the Hosaqueen Ducal House.

That news also reached the ‘rat’ who was inhabiting the body of Rico, Agera’s beloved daughter, her only daughter.

The rat, having taken revenge by burning down Rohanson Manor, had been wandering nearby filling its belly after fleeing from Bishop Marik. When committing evil acts, it always imitated Evangeline’s appearance, having realized that the things it did would harm Evangeline.

Imitating Evangeline brought backlash. The concepts carved into its bones rebelled, saying it dared to harm Evangeline.

The reason the ‘rat’ went to Rohanson Manor to vent its anger instead of directly harming Evangeline was because it was difficult to lay hands on her directly.

Imitating Evangeline was so painful, yet its jealousy was sticky enough to overcome the scriptures carved into its skin.

That malice instantly crumbled at the news that Agera was critically ill.

“Heavens, Mother is critically ill…”

“You should be the one nursing Lady Agera, not Rohanson’s young lady. Let’s hurry back to the manor.”

Rico, who had been forced to watch the rat kill people while taking on Evangeline’s form with his own body, quickly urged them to return home.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

The rat headed toward the Hosaqueen Ducal House without delay.

The rat was still imitating Evangeline’s appearance at that time. The servants of the Hosaqueen Ducal House thought the Rohanson young lady had briefly gone out and returned, so they opened the door for her. Thanks to this, the rat was able to enter bloodlessly without killing Mother’s servants.

Immediately entering the manor, the rat traced Rico’s memories and rushed to Agera’s room. Since Evangeline was nursing Agera, going to the room would surely result in an encounter, but being preoccupied with Agera, it couldn’t consider that far.

Only after reaching Agera’s room did the rat trace its memories and rearrange its face again. While burning down Rohanson Manor, it had accidentally seen paintings of Amaranth.

The paintings, which appeared to number around ten, all showed the same face in the same pose, and the rat instinctively realized that the subject of the paintings was the original it should imitate.

After carefully memorizing the paintings, the rat burned them all. Since it was the only daughter Mother had in this world, there was no need to leave paintings of Amaranth. In many ways, it was fortunate that it had set fire to Rohanson Manor.

Thus, the rat imitated the paintings. It was a much closer resemblance to Amaranth than its previous crude and inadequate appearance.

“Agera, my mother. It’s Amaranth. Amaranth has come.”

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