The Status Effect Count - Chapter 4

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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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Abnormal Condition Count 004
The strain had eased, and a quiet satisfaction settled over her. Even the foul stench that had hung in the air seemed to have faded somewhat.
It was as she reached to smooth and arrange the last of the still-rumpled bedding that it happened.
A sudden grip.
Someone seized her wrist—a thick, enormous hand.
From that grip came a sickly, repugnant sensation that made her blood crawl. She nearly screamed, but caught herself just in time.
It was unmistakable who this towering figure was, standing in a place no one could easily reach.
Her employer.
Master of the Estate.
Count Freneta.
“…I made it clear that no one was to enter this room.”
A massive, dark shape loomed above her, staring down.
A brilliant flash of lightning.
It burst beyond the curtains.
Thunder followed, and rain hammered against the windows with a sound like a torrent.
“Rain! Bring blankets at once!”
“You there! Don’t just stand gaping—move!”
Outside, servants’ voices called back and forth in chaos, yet the room remained darker and quieter than the world beyond its walls.
Unaware even that she was held in an awkward position, she met his gaze without so much as a blink.
“…”
He was an imposing figure—his head sat higher than most men’s by a full measure.
And his hair.
Hair dark as pitch, soaked and hanging limp, obscured much of his face behind its wet strands.
Water dripped steadily from those long locks, one drop after another.
A swallow caught in her throat.
It was as though she had stumbled upon a spirit crawling up from the depths of a swamp.
‘Goosebumps…’
A sharp, feral gaze swept over her entirely, as though it could strip flesh from bone. The sensation was nauseating.
Beneath the hanging hair, his face gleamed pale and would have been handsome, but the ashen, deathlike pallor made him look positively ghastly instead.
It felt as though she had stepped into the mouth of some great, terrible beast.
She clamped her lips shut. If she opened them even slightly, she feared her teeth would chatter and she would scream.
A primal terror crept through her entire body, cold and insistent.
“Not a chambermaid, then. I don’t recognize you. Who are you?”
His voice was like the fractured ring of metal echoing through a cavern.
Goosebumps erupted down her spine.
‘Anne. If playing dead before a predator has already failed, you cannot show fear. Fear is what hunts first.’
Her brother’s insufferable voice echoed in her mind as though he stood beside her.
She drew a slow breath to steady herself.
As casually as possible. As naturally as ever. With a smile.
“I came to tidy the bedding, sir.”
“…”
“I apologize for the intrusion. I’ve finished my work, so I’ll take my leave at once.”
She blinked slowly, pressing down the anxious hammering in her chest.
I’m harmless. I’ve done nothing wrong.
The enormous man remained silent, simply watching her.
‘Why? Why is he looking at me like that?’
A sharp, piercing gaze poured over her face.
Fortunately, his expression soon turned indifferent, and he released her arm.
“I thought I said to leave fresh sheets and nothing more. Belence is being stubborn again.”
“…”
“Tell everyone that no one is to enter this room again.”
The Count no longer spared her a glance, moving with deliberate slowness toward the bed.
Water trailed from the open bathroom door and pooled across the floor in long streaks.
Anne stood frozen, watching as he peeled back the bedding and slid beneath it.
The motion was not quite human.
Once he had settled inside the blankets, which now formed a bulge where he lay, the room fell back into its former oppressive silence, as though nothing had changed.
In the quiet darkness, only Anne’s ragged breathing could be heard.
A room black as pitch.
Windows and door sealed tight.
A Count lying within those heavy blankets, breathing without a sound.
Everything about it seemed terribly unsettling, but what struck Anne most was something far more absurd.
In this darkened room, there existed a single source of brilliant light—an impossible phenomenon.
[▎▚▊⑆⑇⑉█▛⇒ ▆⑉]
What on earth was that?
It resembled a thin, elongated Plaque.
The lustrous Plaque gleamed as if it had been forged from molten gold.
Had such a resplendent object hung from the Estate’s doors or adorned its walls, Anne would have thought nothing of it.
‘But it’s hovering above the Count’s head.’
The sight was utterly bizarre.
Above the Count’s entirely dark head, at a distance of perhaps a hand’s breadth, a golden Plaque drifted through the air.
It clung to the crown of his head as if fastened there, following the contours of his skull with each of his movements.
Anne rubbed her eyes repeatedly, convinced she was seeing things, but the Plaque did not disappear.
* * *
“All finished? Everything all right?”
The maid rushed toward her the moment they stepped into the corridor. Anne quickly lifted her head and raised the basket she’d brought with her.
“I’ve changed the linens for him.”
Even if the Count did catch me in the act.
Of course, she said nothing of that.
The maid’s face relaxed with relief before brightening with fresh enthusiasm.
“You should have hurried back sooner. Do you know how worried I was something might go wrong? Our master’s been even sharper lately. The moment anyone’s hand falters, he appears from nowhere and rages like thunder. It’s so frightening. Everyone’s run off, leaving only me—”
The maid clapped her hand over her mouth.
She glanced furtively about, cleared her throat with an exaggerated cough, then straightened her posture with renewed haughtiness.
“In any case, well done. It’s your work, after all—only natural.”
Except it isn’t really my work at all.
This time, Anne couldn’t manage a bright smile. It was fortunate the maid didn’t notice her lukewarm response.
The maid beamed with satisfaction.
“So the rumors were right—you do work well.”
Hmm?
It sounded as though someone had spoken about Anne to this maid. Anne asked in an innocent tone.
“Who mentioned me?”
“That fair-haired maid. Instead of running about in groups the way they do, they ought to lend a hand properly. These young maids these days, relying solely on their pretty faces and acting however they please.”
The maid grumbled irritably.
As Anne understood it, only one maid in this Estate fit that description.
Emily.
Anne suppressed a sigh. Emily was a pretty maid who enjoyed the Head Maid’s favor.
Among those who looked down on Anne, Emily regarded her with particular disdain.
I didn’t do anything to deserve this!
“She said you’re skilled at washing linens. Well, you seem rather clumsy for someone so skilled. But since you managed it despite being slow, I’ll praise you for it.”
“Thank… you.”
The maid had dumped upon her what she herself called a tedious and difficult task, yet now she carried herself as though she were bestowing a kindness.
“Then I’ll have you come again tomorrow. What was your name again?”
Tomorrow too? Anne felt her face contort and fought to conceal it.
At this rate, this task would be permanently foisted upon her shoulders.
What am I going to do about this? Cold sweat beaded on Anne’s brow.
“Anne Marita.”
“Yes, Anne Marita, was it? Head Maid?”
Spinning around in a panic, Anne found Belence, the Head Maid, standing with impeccable posture—every strand of her tightly bound hair in place, her bearing that of a perfect aristocratic specimen, regarding both Anne and the maid with a sharp gaze.
“Anne Marita. Were you not a maid? Why have you just now emerged from the Master’s Bedroom?”
“That is, well…”
“I was speaking to Anne Marita. Dolan.”
The maid called Dolan’s face drained of color as she bowed her head deeply.
Anne forced herself to speak in an even tone, swallowing hard.
“I came to help with the laundry, as he requested assistance moving it.”
It wasn’t a lie—I was summoned for that reason, after all. …Though what I actually did was something altogether different.
Belence’s gaze fell upon the basket in Anne’s hands. The Head Maid’s voice turned glacial.
“Dolan. Where are the other maids?”
“Well, you see—!”
“Never mind.”
Belence shook her head.
“They’ve run away, or else you’ve taken on their entire burden.”
“…….”
Dolan pressed her lips together firmly.
Was this Estate really all right?
Housemaids too busy playing, attendants fleeing in fear of their master.
And an employer who was plainly strange.
‘As long as I receive my wages regularly and can do the work, that’s good enough.’
Even forcing herself to think that way, the unease remained—the whole place felt like a sandcastle on the verge of collapse.
What kind of position had she walked into? What if the place folded within a month?
“You should go back now. Anne Marita. As for today’s work…….”
The head attendant paused before continuing.
“I’ll speak to the head housemaid about giving you a bonus. However, from next time onward, you will follow proper protocol.”
“Yes!”
In other words, any more acting on impulse and she’d be in trouble.
But a bonus! Dolan’s respect for Count Freneta skyrocketed in an instant.
Enough that she could even polish away that strange Plaque herself!

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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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