Saul stood frozen in place.
He was thinking, but time was running out.
The candlelight on the wall had already shifted from a dusky yellow to a deeper amber. Once it turned bright yellow, that meant dawn was near. And before the flames turned white, Saul had to be back on the fourth floor.
Those were the rules.
The pool of blood was still there.
If he left it, he’d be flower fertilizer by morning.
But clean it?
He was just an ordinary person. No powers, no tricks. What could he possibly do about this eerie, murderous blood?
Ask for help?
The boys he bunked with harbored some hostility toward the pre-transmigration Saul. No way they’d help. And even if they wanted to, they were just regular kids like him, helpless in the face of this kind of thing.Report it to the butler?
The butler never appeared at night, and Saul had no idea where to find him.
His movement was restricted to the fourth-floor servants’ quarters and the 11th through 13th floors.
No way out.
Saul’s trembling fingers suddenly steadied.
He placed the mop back onto the cart and straightened his clothes.
Then, he walked to the door directly across from the room leaking blood, raised his hand, and knocked three times.
In the silent corridor, those three knocks sounded painfully loud.
Saul glanced down at the floating hardcover book. No new death prediction appeared.
He raised his hand to knock again when the door before him suddenly creaked open.
Saul’s breath caught in his throat.
The door inched open.
And behind it, a tall, slender figure emerged.
A woman, dressed in a black nightgown, she was voluptuous, but not overweight. The exposed skin was pale and smooth.
Saul looked up and saw a graceful jawline, full red lips, a high nose and above that... nothing.
The woman had only half a head.
In the dark of night, the sight nearly made Saul’s soul leave his body.
He forced down the terror and kept his expression polite.
But his teeth betrayed him, chattering uncontrollably.
The woman tilted her head. The top half of it was gone. The exposed flesh at the cross-section was pale and decayed.
Where her eyes should have been, a hemispherical glass dome was embedded.
Inside the dome, a cloudy white liquid sloshed about. As she tilted her head, something eyeball-like bumped gently against the glass.
"What is it?"
Her lips moved. Her voice was unexpectedly pleasant.
"M-Ma’am..." Saul heard the tremble in his own voice. He took a deep breath to steady it. "Blood is leaking from the room across the hall. I don’t have the means to deal with it. Please... help me."
The woman lifted her head slightly. An eyeball pressed against the glass dome.
Then it disappeared again as she lowered her head, chuckled softly, and said, "Why should I help you?"
Saul knew he wouldn’t be lucky enough to knock on a stranger’s door and find a kind, helpful soul.
"Ma’am, what would you have me do?" he bowed his head.
He was just a servant. He had no right to negotiate.
The woman cradled her chin with slender fingers. "I need a living subject for an experiment. But I’m a bit short on credits right now. If you volunteer, I’ll take care of your little problem."
Saul glanced at the hardcover book floating over his shoulder.
No reaction.
He was still far too weak to protect himself. His only hope was to gamble on the book’s death warning system.
"Alright."
The woman curled her red lips in satisfaction, clearly pleased by Saul’s decisiveness.
She stepped aside and let him enter her room, then turned and did something outside.
Saul stood inside the room.
It was larger than the shared dorm he lived in with over a dozen other boys and it even had a separate inner chamber.
An oil lamp lit the living area, casting a steady and bright glow, likely aided by some enchantment.
At the center of the room sat a long table, cluttered with strange tools and materials he didn’t recognize.
The most eye-catching of all was a black cauldron atop a small stove, bubbling with thick black liquid.
"That’s the thing I need you to try." The woman had entered again without him noticing.
Saul turned. The door was already closed. He didn’t know if the blood outside had been dealt with.
"I need you to put one hand into the cauldron. Then tell me what you feel."
She pulled out a long bench, sat down across from him, crossed her legs, and waited expectantly.
Saul knew he had no room to bargain. So he didn’t plead, didn’t beg.
He rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, took a deep breath, and walked forward. Without hesitation, he plunged his entire hand into the black liquid.
He didn’t dip a finger first, better to risk the whole thing than irritate the woman with hesitation.
"Tss—!" Saul sucked in a breath.
Not from pain but from cold.
A biting, bone-deep cold.
"Clack, clack, clack..."
His teeth chattered uncontrollably.
"You can take it out now."
At her command, Saul yanked his hand back.
But the moment he saw it, the breath he’d just let out caught in his throat again.
The flesh was gone.
His left hand was nothing but clean, bare-bone—like a skeleton hand straight from a medical model.
The worst part? There was no pain at all.
"Hah... hah..."
Saul panted, gripping his left wrist with his right. Both hands shook violently.
As his skeletal hand trembled, it made a dry, clicking sound.
The woman offered no comfort. She stood and tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"Must’ve added too much Jisheli python stomach acid. What do you feel in that hand right now?"
"C-c-cold... but not painful..."
Saul tried to suppress his fear and chill, doing his best to respond like a professional test subject.
"I... I think I can still control it."
He flexed his skeletal fingers slightly.
It was difficult, but they moved.
"Not bad." The woman smiled, looking quite satisfied.
She sifted through the table, selected a few ingredients, and casually tossed them into the cauldron.
Two wisps of white steam hissed upward. Then, the bubbling resumed as before.
"Now," she sat back down, her chin tilted with interest. She pointed at the cauldron.
"Put in the other hand."
Saul exhaled.
He’d expected this.
The first trial clearly hadn’t worked.
So a second test was inevitable.
He released his left hand, then decisively plunged his right hand into the bubbling black liquid.
"Nnngh—!"
A deep freeze shot up his arm.
His right hand, submerged in the fluid, went entirely numb.
"You can take it out."
He yanked it free.
Relief washed over him as it wasn’t a skeleton hand this time.
Not only that, but his rough, calloused palm was now smooth and pale.
Before she could even ask, Saul said, "C-c-cold... even colder than before... clack clack... but not painful. I can control it..."
He flexed his fingers and raised his hand to show her.
The woman smiled again, but wider this time, revealing sharp white teeth behind her red lips.
"You really are a surprise."
She stood and even clapped her hands twice.
Crossing the room, she opened a cabinet and pulled out a crystal vial, handing it to Saul.
"Drink this."
Seeing Saul's hesitant, pale face, she laughed, her body trembling with amusement. The white liquid inside her glass dome sloshed along with her movements.
"Relax. This one’s not an experiment—it’s the healing potion."
(End of Chapter)