Surviving as a Maid in a Horror Game

“Adrian... could it have been you?”

On a warm spring afternoon, while sharpening a pencil in Adrian’s room, I found myself staring at the demon. He sat near the window where the occasional breeze stirred the curtains, reading a book with his head bowed. His neat eyes, elegant jawline, and ethereal complexion—pale enough to blur the line between fairness and translucence—were aristocratically beautiful and graceful.

Normally, I would’ve tried to ignore his demonic nature and simply admire his appearance. But not today. Today, unresolved suspicions gnawed at me. My ambitious side hustle of shady deals had hit a massive roadblock.

Without Caden delivering my underhanded earnings, I felt as empty as if I’d skipped several meals. Those unexpected cash flows, his endearing little mischiefs, and the harmless requests were like gold. And now, thanks to some mysterious thug, they had all disappeared, leaving only sweet, innocent Emily behind. How could I accept this clean but barren reality?

Who on earth was that thug? A back-alley delinquent? Or… was it really Adrian?

He had gone out alone yesterday, quite awkwardly at that. And, of all times, it was right after I’d told him about Caden and Grover. His reaction back then wasn’t exactly thrilled either…

No way, right? Why would he? He wouldn’t bother getting up and dragging himself all the way to the village just because of a lowly servant like me, would he? That’s ridiculous. It’d be delusional. But then… why does this feel so off?

“Young master, who did you go to the village to meet yesterday?”

“Hm? I just stopped by the butcher’s.”

I see. It was that face. The face that had been oddly refreshed and satisfied since yesterday. A face no one would make from simply visiting a butcher. There had to be more to this.

“Why the butcher?”

“You said you liked meat, didn’t you? So, I went to buy some.”

For someone so smart, his lie lacked effort. I only mentioned liking meat after you said you were going to the village! Did he think I didn’t know what he’d been up to? That I couldn’t sense what happened to Caden and Grover from a distance? This lazy excuse just made me more suspicious.

“Oh… I see. But why go all the way there?”

“You always give me gifts, so I thought I’d return the favor. It’s nice to see you’re pleased with it.”

I glanced over at the “gift” Adrian had given me that morning. When he handed me the transparent plastic-wrapped package, I had stood there for a long moment, unsure of how to react. Adrian had been so obviously waiting for a response that I forced myself to gush about how happy and grateful I was. But honestly, what even was it?

It wasn’t until I placed it on the table and stared at it for ages that I figured it out. Floating in a translucent liquid were strange chunks of… something. It turned out to be sugar-cured meat. He’d apparently gone out of his way to buy it because I said I liked meat and sweet things. I had to suppress the urge to scream, “Seriously? This is meat?”

What the hell had he done to that poor meat? The sugar-coated, glittering chunks sat on the table, and I stared at them with a complex mix of emotions.

It seemed that Adrian had applied a simple “favorite + favorite = extra favorite” logic. But clearly, his lack of experience with food preparation—having everything done for him—left him clueless about how insane this combination was. Sugar-cured meat? It was nonsense.

How could I possibly like it? Would I even be able to eat it? If he weren’t both my boss and a demon, I would’ve yelled at him for ruining perfectly good meat. If I had any affection points for him, they would’ve plummeted to zero, and he would’ve been added to my list of hostile entities.

Sugar-cured, premium-quality meat. Where could I throw this away without anyone seeing? The sight of its excellent marbling made me even sadder.

“Well, of course! Since it’s from you, young master, how could I not like it…”

“That’s a relief. The butcher didn’t have anything like it at first, so we had quite the conversation.”

He meant he’d intimidated the poor butcher into giving it to him. That poor man must’ve been utterly baffled.

“Please don’t go out to the village for things like that again, young master. I can take care of food myself.”

“All right, Hilda. So, as long as I don’t go myself, it’s fine?”

“Well, yes. I suppose so.”

“Then that’s simple enough.”

The way he phrased it felt slightly off, but it wasn’t entirely wrong, so I nodded. His smile grew brighter—a bad sign. Nothing good ever happened after I saw that smile. But I decided to let it slide, thinking it wasn’t worth prying further. After all, if he stayed out of the village, it shouldn’t be a problem. I turned my attention back to sharpening the pencil.

I was finishing the last of the high-quality pencils I had gifted Adrian that morning. Once this one was done, I’d be free of this tedious task. Giving him those five pencils had raised his affection to Lv. 1 (384/400), but I planned to pick different gifts next time. Definitely something that didn’t require additional effort like sharpening. I was done with this labor.

“Young master! I’ve finished sharpening the pencils. Where should I put them? Should I leave them with the others I sharpened last time?”

“Yes, Hilda. Could you hand me one of them?”

“Sure. Here you go.”

Was he going to write in the book he was reading? I carried over the ten sharpened pencils and handed him one at random. Adrian took it, narrowing his eyes slightly as he examined it.

Did he not like it? They all looked the same to me. While I was confused, Adrian calmly sifted through the remaining nine pencils, scrutinizing each lead closely. He finally picked one and handed the first pencil back to me. The way his sharp gaze inspected the pencils reminded me of a gangster choosing the perfect knife.

I glanced between the two pencils, baffled. What was different about them? The one Adrian chose seemed to have a sharper tip, but surely it wouldn’t make much difference when writing.

“Um, are you going to carry that pencil with you?”

I asked as I watched him tuck it into his pocket. Come to think of it, he’d done the same with the regular pencil I first gave him. What happened to that one?

“Yes. The pencil you gave me before broke yesterday.”

“Yesterday…”

“The wood must’ve been weak because it broke from the impact and became unusable. A shame, really. But this one looks sturdier. It probably won’t break as easily.”

Broke from the impact…

“Oh, I see. I’m glad you like the new one.”

“Yes, I do. As for the remaining nine pencils, distribute them among the servants—one each. Make sure of it, Hilda. Understood?”

Adrian gave a cryptic order before falling silent. In that brief moment, he smiled. A languid, dreamy, yet satisfied smile. It was the expression of a predator savoring its prey after a successful hunt.

Feigning nonchalance, I gathered the pencils and mentally replayed Adrian’s words. Who talks about pencils like that? People might comment on the darkness of the lead or how smooth it writes, but saying it could withstand impacts or not break easily? That was a first.

And as I mulled over his words, something from yesterday resurfaced in my mind. The note about Caden being impaled. What exactly was he impaled with? Could it have been one of Adrian’s pencils? Ugh, now that I’d started doubting him, everything seemed suspicious.

Even if it was just a hunch, I couldn’t shake the unease. There had to be evidence somewhere. If I searched the clothes Adrian wore yesterday, I might find a blood-stained pencil. Adrian didn’t know I suspected him, so his evidence handling might be sloppy.

If only I could get him to fall asleep for a bit.

“...!”

An idea sparked in my mind. That’s right—I have the Sleep Tight skill!

While Adrian was engrossed in his book, I discreetly opened my skill window, keeping my movements hidden. The glowing Sleep Tight and Use buttons seemed to beckon me.

The skill allowed me to put a non-hostile target to sleep once a day. The easier the target, the longer they’d stay asleep. While I didn’t know how long Adrian would sleep, I had tested it on several servants. Most slept for two to three hours. The shortest duration was Leticia, who woke after an hour, and the longest was Emily, at three hours and ten minutes.

Even if Adrian was a difficult target, he should stay asleep for at least five minutes. Worst-case scenario, let’s assume three minutes. Once he’s asleep, I’ll use Insightful Eye to search his room, check his closet for the clothes he wore yesterday, and look for other clues if time permits.

With my simple plan set, I glanced at my target. Adrian was entirely focused on his book, oblivious to my scheming. Perfect timing. I carefully activated Sleep Tight and watched Adrian closely.

Would it even work on a demon? What if it didn’t? As the skill activated, anxiety bubbled up, and I found myself shifting nervously. But to my shock, Adrian’s eyelids slowly drooped and shut.

His hand slackened, letting the book fall gently into his lap. I let out a silent scream

. What?! It actually worked on him? I thought this skill was useless, but I had completely underestimated it. If I’d known it worked on demons, I’d have used it sooner!

“No time to celebrate. Let’s start searching.”

I stopped tapping my knees in excitement and quickly turned toward the closet. Adrian could wake up at any moment, so I had to work fast. If I was lucky, I might even find something about Hubert.

As I approached the closet, I checked the skill’s duration next to Adrian’s name. Normally, the sleep duration would appear here, which was how I tracked it during experiments. But for Adrian, it simply said “Calculating.” Great, it’s buffering. Better time this myself.

One second…

“Hilda, what are you doing over there?”

A gentle, soft voice struck me from behind like a hammer. The excitement that had my heart racing froze instantly. My determined steps toward the closet halted mid-stride.

“What did you just do to me?”

There was no trace of humor in his kind tone. Did he already wake up? How long had it been since I used the skill? I had celebrated for what, five seconds? Plus, I counted one second, so six seconds total?

Six seconds?! I had estimated at least three minutes, but it turned out to be measured in seconds? What kind of impossible difficulty level was this demon?

Forcing my trembling legs to move, I slowly turned around. Adrian’s piercing eyes locked onto me, icy and calculating. Just meeting his gaze sent shivers down my spine, like a blade pressing against the back of my neck. It was fear I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I didn’t know you could do things like this, Hilda.”

His tone carried a hint of curiosity. How did he know? Even if it was true, how could he figure it out? I’d used Sleep Tight on nearly thirty people, and none of them had noticed. They all assumed they’d simply dozed off from exhaustion.

“W-What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything. Y-You just suddenly fell asleep.”

“No, I didn’t.”

His expressionless face was terrifying. Just terrifying. My lips began to tremble on their own.

“You suddenly closed your eyes and dropped your book! I just thought you were taking a nap because of the warm sunlight. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I was just leaving. If you’re tired, you should lie down properly—”

“That wasn’t a nap.”

“It was a nap! Definitely a nap. Who can’t take a nap?”

“Stop hiding it and tell me. I’m right, aren’t I? Hilda, you did something.”

“…”

“That wasn’t a nap.”

His dampened gaze locked me in place as he stood and slowly approached. The closer he got, the more my heart pounded, as though it would break through my ribs. Seriously, how did he know? There’s no way he understands the game’s system. How could he be so perceptive?

“Hilda, whenever you point at nothing in particular, something always happens. Just now, the same thing. You pointed at something in the air, and I fell asleep.”

“T-That can’t be true.”

“What’s here?”

His soft question sent a chill down my spine as he raised a hand. He reached out, as though feeling his way along an invisible wall, and stopped.@@novelbin@@

His fingertip landed precisely on the Use button for Sleep Tight.

Oh. My. God.

After using the skill, I forgot to close the window, leaving Adrian’s index finger hovering just before the “Use” button. When I had used the skill on him before, I pressed various buttons, but he managed to pinpoint the one that affected him. He even calculated the distance and angle centered around my eyes.

And he wasn’t even looking at me.

I was so shocked that an involuntary gasp escaped me. As I stood frozen, pale as a sheet, Adrian’s finger finally pressed the “Use” button!

What the hell? It’s not really going to work, is it? The skill won’t actually activate, right?

I watched in wide-eyed panic, but thankfully, nothing changed in the system. The tension drained from my hunched shoulders in slow waves.

Right… there’s no way. Adrian isn’t a user, so he can’t use the system. But still, wow, this is terrifying. I can’t even speak. That demon bastard—what if he figures out how to actually use it someday?

“It seems my touch doesn’t do anything,” he said casually, withdrawing his hand. Even though he might have misunderstood, it was clear he had deduced that the system only worked when I operated it.

I clasped my trembling hands together in desperation. Should I cut my hand off? Would you forgive me if I severed the finger that pointed into thin air?

“Don’t be so frightened. It only reminded me of the pranks of old spirits,” he said.

“Spirits…?”

“But Hilda, I’m not fond of such pranks. So use it sparingly, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes. Of course,” I stammered, nodding instinctively under the weight of his gaze. In my flustered state, I had effectively admitted everything. Still, Adrian seemed pleased with my lack of further denials. His eyes grew darker, holding a strange satisfaction.

“If you don’t overuse it, I’ll let it slide.” His voice whispered like a devil’s temptation, hot against my ear.

I thought, Let’s just keep a low profile for now.

As I left the mansion, I reflected bitterly. Everyone else sleeps for two or three hours; I reduced it to three minutes, considering the awful game balance. But six seconds?

What kind of idiot developer creates a skill so useless against the final boss of a horror game? Hey, developer, you bastard! Why would you make this? I fumed, kicking at a tree in the deserted garden.

But for Adrian to even notice the system’s existence? That was a shock. Sure, the skill wouldn’t have worked since it was on cooldown, but the fact that he displayed awareness of my system left me rattled. What if he eventually learns to manipulate it at will?

Thinking of Adrian’s expressionless face creeping closer, slow and calculating, I shivered. He had approached with an eerie awareness, as if testing how much I knew.

And then he bought me a gift.

“Why does he act so scary and then bring me things like this?”

The mysterious meat remained sealed in its plastic wrap, still in my hands. The whole situation was so strange that it was hard to dismiss. Was it a carrot-and-stick approach? Or a warning? Was he implying I could end up as raw meat someday? I squinted at the meat suspiciously, holding it up to the sunlight.

“Is it really affection…?”

I didn’t know if it was affection, but whatever it was, it didn’t make him any less terrifying. Just seeing him still made my hands shake, my body stiffening as though stabbed. His gift made me feel uneasy.

For me, gaining his favor had a sacred and self-serving purpose, but Adrian? He wasn’t human. He already had everything he could gain from a lowly maid like me. There couldn’t possibly be another motive…

…Right? Even as I thought it, I wasn’t convinced. His intentions were as indecipherable as ever.

“And what’s with the pencils?”

After painstakingly sharpening them, he told me to distribute them to the servants. One per person. Did he think the pencils were some sort of bonus? A wealthy noble’s bonus gift being a five-gold pencil? The equivalent of a company boss handing out a single pen as a holiday bonus? That would be enough to set the company’s anonymous board on fire.

“Hilda! Is that you, Hilda?”

I was rolling a pencil in my hand, contemplating who to give it to, when someone called out to me from a distance. I instinctively turned to see two familiar faces approaching from the garden path. My jaw dropped. Why were they here?

“G-Grandmother?”

“Hilda! It is you! I recognized your voice. My vision has gotten so bad in just a few days; I can hardly see your face.”

“Grandmother! Why are you here?”

The woman being helped along the path was undoubtedly Joanne. I had seen her at the temple not long ago, and now she looked even older, her face frail and hollow. Her once firm and healthy demeanor was gone, leaving behind an ashen complexion. Anyone could tell she was gravely ill.

“Hello, miss. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

I hurried toward them, and the man assisting Joanne greeted me. Catching his slightly labored breath, I recognized him as the priest who had informed me about Joanne’s embezzlement. When our eyes met, his brows furrowed slightly—probably because of my reputation. I told myself not to take it personally.

“Hello. Thank you for bringing my grandmother here. But why are you here, Grandmother? Didn’t you get my letter? I sent it yesterday and made sure it would be delivered immediately!”

“Hmm? What? What did you say? Speak louder, dear.”

Joanne leaned toward me as though trying to hear better, her body tilting precariously. I leaned closer and shouted into her ear.

“The letter! The letter I sent you!”

“Oh, the letter? Yes, I got it yesterday, I did.”

“Did you read it? You did, right? Then why are you here? I told you not to come!”

“Hilda, look at those flowers. Aren’t they beautiful? The magnolias are breathtaking, and the white petals look like angel wings, don’t they?”

“…I’ll be going now,” the priest said politely, bowing before stepping away. Joanne, now without support, could only lean on me. It seemed the priest had come reluctantly, and as soon as there was someone else to take over, he made his escape.

“Joseph! Thank you for bringing her here,” Joanne called after him.

“…”

Joseph, the priest, gave a brief nod before heading back the way he came. Wait, no! You can’t just leave her here! She’s not supposed to be here! I had no concrete proof, only suspicions, but I was certain this was a mistake.

“Excuse me, Joseph! Wait! You can’t leave her here! Grandmother, you need to go back with him. I explained everything in the letter. You can’t stay here!”

“Oh, look at the purple magnolias. Such a lovely color. This garden really is as famous as they say.”

Was she ignoring me? Joanne continued walking determinedly toward the mansion. For someone who needed assistance just to stand, she moved with surprising strength. While I could forcibly drag her away, I couldn’t bring myself to manhandle a sick old woman. The only option was to follow her and try to convince her.

“Grandmother, please, listen to me. You need to go back with Joseph to the temple. If we hurry, we can catch up to him. You can stay at the temple—it’s much safer there!”

“It’s so beautiful here. I could die without any regrets if I could just close my eyes in such a place. Oh, my legs are aching, Hilda. Let’s sit on that bench for a moment, shall we?”

She shouldn’t be here. I needed to catch Joseph. Frustrated, I glanced back toward the path he had taken as Joanne pulled me toward the bench. She sank into it with a sigh, breathing in the fragrant spring breeze with closed eyes.

If Adrian or Hubert sees her, what then?

“Hilda, you’ve always been so attached to me, even as a child. You were so capable for your age, earning more than other children. And whenever you received food as a reward, you’d run to share it with me. I used to think children were nothing but a burden, but you changed my mind.”

“Grandmother, we can talk about this later. Please, let’s go back now. You can’t stay here.”

“Maybe you were too attached to me. You seemed so hurt when you found out I’d taken your wages and support money before leaving the temple. Was that it? Are you trying to get back at me for that? Is that why you’re trying to drive me away from this mansion?”

I froze mid-sentence, my mouth snapping shut. What did she just say?

I stared at Joanne, dumbfounded. Her kind, grandmotherly smile had vanished, replaced by a dark expression. Her face seemed even more sunken, and her eyes gleamed with an unsettling light.

“Why are you pretending you don’t know? Are you holding a grudge over the 3,000 gold I took from you? Is that why you’re trying to make sure I can’t die in peace? You ungrateful, cruel child. No matter how much money I took, I still raised you. And now you want to throw out your dying grandmother?”

“Wait, no, that’s not it! I just wanted to keep you safe. I can’t explain everything, but—”

“Of course you can’t explain! How could you admit to your vile plan to keep me from dying in peace?”

Her voice rose, veins bulging on her neck. I stood there, stunned. Was this really happening? When you’re so utterly wronged, you can’t even find words to respond. That’s where I was.