Chapter 32: The Ghost of Cabaret (6)
The second act began.
The murmurs of the audience subsided as the curtain rose, and the orchestra started playing.
With cheerful music filling the air, Shaila, who played the role of the princess, sang with a lively voice that echoed throughout the hall.
She proudly showed off the count's letter to those around her, her innocence and excitement evident.
She was truly a talented actress.
Her tears, shed while embracing the dancer during breaks, seemed worlds away from her current performance.
I was walking through the narrow spaces between the iron frames, higher up than the top-tier seats.
With each step, the creaking of the floorboards beneath me was audible, but it was drowned out by the voices of the actors and the instruments of the orchestra, not reaching any other areas.
Even as I passed by a staff member leaning on the railing several meters below, he didn't seem to notice me at all.
The structure of the Rose Windmill Cabaret was intricate.
The upper and lower seating areas were entirely separated, and the passageways for the staff connected them asymmetrically.
However, I had no trouble finding my way.
I had been in and out of this place countless times during the game.
I even discovered hidden paths not marked on the guide map.
Thanks to that, I could reach this spot without drawing anyone's attention.
From the ceiling of the hall, technicians responsible for managing the lighting and lifts occasionally passed by.
So, I had to move even more cautiously. It took some time, but I managed to circumnavigate without attracting anyone's gaze.
Finally, I reached the highest frame.
I looked down at the stage below.
The backdrop of the play had transformed from the princess's castle to the count's mansion.
The count and the sorcerer discussed what they needed for their sinister sorcery, while a maid eavesdropped from a distance.
The scene was about to change...
The count cornered the maid against the wall, mocking her love...
And then, the count forcibly kissing her...
Thud!
The orchestra produced a loud and low sound to signal the scene change.
I woke from my reverie.
He realized that the maid had overheard his secret.
He found a knife.
The maid knelt.
"I... I want Miss to come back. I won't tell anyone your secret, my lord. So, please, don't point that knife at me. Don't look at me with those eyes."
Ella delivered her lines flawlessly on this grand stage, unfazed and unshaking. Well, maybe not entirely unfazed, considering she was trembling. But could you blame her?
She had decided to participate in this play just thirty minutes ago.
Yet, she didn't pale in comparison to the other actors' auras.
"Very well. I shall go to the capital. There, I will..."
Wait, what am I doing?
This is no time to watch the play.
I raised my head and surveyed the space between the iron frames.
I had been watching the ceiling closely, as I had no idea where the ghost might be.
I had come about halfway.
I saw one of the chains supporting the ceiling lights suddenly drop.
Since it was not lit, only I could see it swaying.
It was clear that there was a ghost in that place.
He was considering dropping the light to kill the Count's actor.
Because he was the ruthless one who had his hands on his "little bird."
While I was scanning the area like that, I noticed another chain falling down with a whoosh.
There.
Even in the darkest places, my eyes could detect slight changes.
An eye tracker.
It was a device I used when working with computers in the real world.
It literally tracked the position and movement of the eyeball, allowing you to control the mouse instead.
It was a technology that gave me mental arms and legs.
I used my eyes to turn on the computer, write, browse the internet, and play games.
After years of relentless effort, I was able to use the tracker within a sensitivity of "1 pixel."
In other words, I could control eye movement on a 4K-800 million pixel screen with one-pixel precision.
For me, analysing something I saw was as natural as breathing.
In my field of view, I could detect even the slightest pixel change.
The ghost's location.
As I approached it, I pondered on how to attack him.
He wasn't originally a character appearing as an enemy.
So there was no conventional strategy to deal with him.
But I was someone who had delved deep into the game called "Tril Trilo."
Finding ways to eliminate unlikeable supporters or allies was one of my main contents.
There was a way to get rid of Ghost Derek.
But it required some preparation.
For now, let's just drive him away.
For the sake of completing Ella's chapter quests.
...So that she can complete all her roles.
I stood at the highest point in Hall 1.
There, I saw a man in a black cloak standing in front of the chain far away.
"Stop."
He quickly turned to me.
He was wearing a mask, so his expression couldn't be seen, but it was clear that he was surprised.
"Derek."
I called his name and made him hesitate once more.
At the same time, I spread my cloak.
"The show must go on."
Currently, the average favourability of the members is slightly over 7, and the circus's fame is slightly over 20.
Thanks to that, I received 10 Debulroots every midnight.
On top of that, by completing chapter quests and occasional sub-quests, I could collect 100 Debulroots in a week.
Name: Frank Wonderstein
Age: 27
Occupation: Biomancer
Debulroots: (67/80)
Muscle Strength: 3.0 (Beginner)
Tissue Resilience: 3.0 (Chainmail)
Cell Regeneration: 3.0 (Exceptional)
Trait: [Smiling Man] [Rapid Stiffness]
I decided to start developing combat ability little by little.
So far, most of my traits were developed on the fly in emergency situations.
Rapid stiffness, gills, water scythe, breadfruit production, breadfruit tree production, spoon branches, and more.
But developing a combat ability like this was a significant risk.
Attaching tentacles, wings, tails, or other body parts that I didn't originally have.
Could a person naturally move new parts of their body that they didn't have?
That was impossible.
I knew that better than anyone else, considering my arms and legs that were already attached to my body.
Trait: Mantula's Blade
Applied Area: Dorsal Fin
Effect: Attaches a 1-meter-long mantula blade to the end of a 2-meter-long tarantula leg.
Cost: [Flexible Debulroots x33]
There were two choices in developing this trait.
One was to give strength proportional to my three basic abilities, making it "flexible," and the other was to give a fixed strength, making it "fixed."
Using the fixed cost, I could create much more efficient abilities for the same cost.
Even now, I could give the Mantula's Blade the speed of a bullet and hardness beyond steel.
But if I chose the flexible option, the leg's strength would be proportional to my "Muscle Strength," and the blade's strength would be proportional to my "Tissue Resiliance."
In other words, it would only give me a blade with the strength of "Beginner" muscle strength and "Chainmail" toughness.
For immediate use, "fixed" would be better, but considering that I would raise all three basic abilities in the future, "flexible" was the better choice.
I chose "flexible" with a long-term perspective.
It had been a little over a month since the game started, and I didn't need short-sightedness.
The Mantula's Blade that I developed like that.
This was one of Wonderstein's representative skills.
It looked like a spider leg coming out of the back, with a blade like a scythe at the end.
Even though I had only made two of them so far, when I tested their power yesterday, I was confident that I could annihilate a platoon of soldiers armed with swords and armor in under three minutes.
"A monster..."
Derek mumbled as he looked at me.
Until now, I felt a little unfair about the way the members looked at me.
I'm just an ordinary human.
But I could finally admit it.
Yeah. I'm a monster.
"Would you like to put down what's in your hand?"
"Don't make me laugh!"
Swish.
I moved the blade.
The silvery blade sliced through the air and flew towards him.
At best, the muscle strength of a "Beginner."
The speed wasn't that impressive.
Derek swiftly dodged behind.
He hid his body behind the last remaining iron chain, intending to prevent me from swinging the blade recklessly.
It was a bit risky.
The original Wonderstein would have ignored such a clumsy shield and accurately pierced his body.
But now, I wasn't proficient enough in handling the blade.
When I first arrived here, it took me a day to get used to walking and a day and a half to get used to using chopsticks. It was thanks to my body retaining the memory.
I had developed this ability only yesterday, inspired by watching the members hone their skills.
Derek watched my every move.
I could guess what he was planning.
I knew about his ability.
Material penetration.
He could literally pass through walls and floors like a ghost.
However, there were limitations to using this ability, and he couldn't carry heavy objects like a wrench while doing it, only light things like clothes or masks.
He intended to use his material penetration ability only when cutting the iron chain while I intended to restrict him from doing so with Mantula's blade.
But I was worried that my inexperience might lead to accidentally cutting the chain.
As we faced each other like this,
A voice from below the stage could be heard.
"Can you prove it? Can you prove your love?"
I absentmindedly recalled what had happened in the dressing room earlier.
The count slowly approaching Ella.
Ella retreating as if in fear.
The count's face towards her...
Ah.
I momentarily lost focus.
The Ghost didn't miss the opportunity.
He quickly cut the iron chain with a wrench in his hand.
Swish.
The light fixture plummeted downwards.
With a thud, something collapsed.
The Ghost passed through the wall and escaped.
I rushed to the spot where the light had fallen.
Was that his plan?
Was he really trying to drop it here?
What if, just what if he was targeting someone else?
I took the risk and stuck my head out to look down.
***
Act 2 began, and Ella took the stage.
I kept thinking about Wonderstein's words that he would be watching from the audience.
She tried her best to keep her gaze straight ahead and avoid scanning the audience.
It seemed like she would feel embarrassed if her eyes met his.
But unconsciously, my eyes flickered and I could see the empty seats.
Ha.
I let out a disappointed sigh.
I felt like a fool for being so nervous.
A ridiculous human. Better to keep my mouth shut.
Still, I believed in his ability to perform and write the script.
Then he could at least provide feedback on how her acting was and if there were any awkward moments.
Ella decided to stop paying attention to him altogether.
She focused solely on her performance.
The play continued, and reached the part Wonderstein had interrupted earlier.
"Can you prove it? Can you prove your love?"
The count approached her.
But his eyes seemed different from the ones in the dressing room.
Crafty, cunning, and greedy eyes.
As an unpleasant feeling started to rise, a bolt of lightning struck.
Crash. Sizzle.
A light fixture fell from the ceiling.
It smashed the count's head.
Blood and flesh splattered onto Ella's servant's attire.
The audience screamed and jumped out of their seats.
If it were a year ago, Ella might have just fainted.
But she had experienced worse hells since then.
She instinctively looked up at the ceiling where the light had fallen.
From her position, she could only see that angle through the gap between the ceiling's darkness and the steel frame.
And there, someone was looking down at her, smiling.
Frank Wonderstein.
She blinked once, and his figure disappeared.
However, Ella continued to stare blankly at the spot where he had vanished.
Until the other actors and staff rushed onto the stage.
New n𝙤vel chapters are published on f(r)e𝒆webn(o)vel.com