Chapter 33: The Ghost of Cabaret (7)
The walls meant nothing to Derek.
He could pass through anywhere, and nothing could stop him.
There were a few limitations, but as long as he followed the rules, there were no issues.
No one could find him.
He hid within the walls, observing the monster.
Two massive spider legs rose behind it.
And at the ends, sharp blades.
It was not human.
Truly a monster.
To think that such a creature existed in the world.
The monster glanced down at the stage below, then retracted the blades into its body and left the area.
Derek cautiously followed behind.
Fortunately, it seemed like he had no idea that he was tailing him.
But he had to be careful.
The same applied to his adversary; they couldn't identify each other.
How did it know his name?
Could it really be that "Little Bird" had told him about me?
Even so, how did it know I was here?
Amidst various questions, voices from downstairs started to fill the air.
"It's this way!"
"The top floor frame!"
The technicians who had figured out the situation rushed back to their original location.
However, the monster skilfully evaded their pursuit.
It seemed like it had memorized the entire layout of the cabaret.
He didn't encounter a single person as he descended to the audience seats.
Derek was genuinely impressed.
Even after living in the Rose Windmill for so long, it was a trick that was hard to replicate.
The creature moved through blocked passages and hidden alleyways as if it had done this dozens of times.
Could this also be one of the monster's abilities?
Perhaps he knew his name or where he was because of his powers.
Derek observed him more closely, moving between the walls, floors, and ceiling.
He hadn't recognized his terrifying appearance earlier, but he was remarkably handsome.
Was he over 30 years old?
Even if he was in his 20s, he had a face that was unbelievable.
But what was inside him was unimaginable.
People are truly not to just judged by appearances.
There were few people in the world who harboured love and altruism like him.
Except for My Little Bird, of course.
The theatre staff sent all the guests away.
Since it was originally a free performance, there was no need for troublesome refunds.
Bouvalle, the owner of the Rose Windmill, seemed slightly relieved by this fact, in Derek's eyes.
That man's materialistic nature always made Derek feel cheerful.
I may not have a good appearance, but I'm nobler than those worldly people.
I help My Little Bird with kindness.
She is grateful to me.
And she might even love me...
"Everyone, gather around."
Yug Maroine, the director, returned from the hospital.
After hearing about the death of the actor with the role of Count, he looked pained, but then explained what Ivonne had told him about the "ghost."
She had received a threatening letter not too long ago.
"If you don't leave the theatre or quit acting, it will bring something terrifying," he said.
At first, she thought it was just a joke, but she kept saying strange things were happening around her.
Then, today, when the pantry collapsed and fell on the supplies, she claimed to have seen a blurry figure coming out of the wall.
"If it's really a ghost, we should contact the church and call an exorcist," Bouvalle said, wiping his sweat.
His mind was already calculating how much he should donate to the church.
At that moment, the chief technician who had been searching the ceiling earlier stepped forward.
"There may not be a need for that," he explained, pointing out the wrench he had found and the traces left on the dust.
"It seems like it was done by a human, not a ghost."
Bouvelle's expression relaxed a little upon hearing this.
"Did anyone leave their seat during Act 2?"
"Well... I'm not sure..."
As everyone shook their heads, one of the choir members stepped forward.
"Yes, there was."
She raised her finger, pointing at someone.
At the end of her finger was Wonderstein.
"The central seats on the second floor were empty."
All eyes turned to him.
In the tense atmosphere, he had a faint smile on his lips.
As if all of this was a joke.
The faces of the theatre people turned pale.
Those who had liked him seemed shocked by his mocking demeanour.
Someone had died.
And there was an implication that it might have been a murder.
A man, alone, smiling in the midst of this heavy atmosphere.
Such a person could not be innocent.
Everyone knew that.
"Yeah, yeah, call him a monster."
Derek chuckled, hiding in the wall.
No matter how convincingly he disguised his appearance, what was inside him was not human.
What mattered was the heart.
Shaila, who had just been observing his appearance, seemed scared, and Derek felt relieved.
That's right. My little bird. People are not judged by their appearance.
Think about the favour I did for you.
Who treated you so kindly?
You shouldn't be interested in a man you just met today. Ah, whether you believe it or not.
Wonderstein looked at the gazes directed at him with a mocking smile.
"I went to the restroom for a moment."
"Is there any witness who can confirm your whereabouts?"
"No, there isn't."
A silence filled the dressing room.
The chief technician took out a neatly folded cloth from his pocket.
On it were traces of a handprint drawn with black dust.
"After the incident, I examined the frames. There seemed to be a handprint. I'd like to compare it."
He was quite competent.
Derek thought this was a crisis.
But at that moment, behind Wonderstein, he witnessed an astonishing sight.
Creak.
A sound came from his right hand, and his skin and muscles twisted and deformed.
Wonderstein confidently extended his hand, and the technician realized at a glance that it was not what he had been looking for.
"The size of the hand is different... and above all, this hand has a longer index finger than the middle finger... I-I'm sorry. I was mistaken. Still, I needed to confirm..."
"Oh, it's fine. It's only natural."
Wonderstein laughed shamelessly.
Derek was amazed.
That handprint had clearly been his.
But in an instant, he changed his hand to deceive and outsmart people.
'What on earth is his true identity, this monster?'
The people attention moved to others.
The chief technician began to hold the employees and started comparing their fingerprints one by one.
Then, a girl dressed as a maid approached the monster.
Derek knew who she was.
She was brought in to replace Shaila's role, a circus performer.
Come to think of it, the chief technician referred to this man as the ringmaster.
It seemed like this circus performer girl belonged with him.
She whispered as if not wanting anyone else to hear.
"Is it your doing?"
"Hehe, what do you mean?"
"I saw it all. You were watching me from that gap."
Fire gleamed in her eyes.
Derek became intrigued by their relationship. What kind of connection did they have?
"Could you have seen wrong? The culprit seems to have been someone originally inside the troupe. Just now, my fingerprints were proven not to match."
"Changing your handprint is child's play for you, you shameless devil."
The girl seemed to know the monster's true identity. She knew he could change his physical form at will. And she didn't seem to like him. The hatred and fear in her eyes were definitely not an act.
"So what?"
The devil smiled.
"What?"
"If I'm indeed the one you say killed him, what will you do? Don't you remember? Hehe, Ella agreed to a contract. To become my 'slave' for a lifetime."
He chuckled and looked at her.
The girl glared back at him, her eyes filled with anger.
Derek nodded. So, that was the situation. A complicated one.
Compared to that, I must be a real angel, he thought, taking pride in his moral values.
"Hehe, from what I've heard, Paris will be playing the role of the Count in tomorrow morning's performance. Will Ella stay too? After all, Ella doesn't have any 'duties' in the circus."
At the devil's words, Ella bit her lip in frustration.
She looked around at the people from the troupe for a moment, then resignedly said, "I'll stay. I need to help these people."
"Hehe, you really are a good girl. I won't doubt Ella, but I still need a hostage. I'll take one of the animals Ella raises."
At his words, Ella hesitated for a moment and then reluctantly nodded.
"Alright."
She took a white mouse out of her pocket, and Wonderstein put it in his pocket.
"If you don't come back tomorrow after the show is over, this animal will be inside my stomach. It won't taste very good, but... Well, maybe it's better to turn it into a monster?"
"Promise me you won't do such a thing. I'll keep my word."
She glared at him with anger in her eyes.
The devil didn't pay much attention to her hostile gaze. He smiled and left.
Derek pondered for a moment.
Should he follow the monster or stay around this girl?
The decision didn't take long.
Leaving the theatre was too risky. Besides, staying near the girl seemed like a better option for gathering information. Most importantly, her situation seemed miserable, and he felt he could help her.
...
The lodgings for the staff at the Rose Windmill.
Late at night, Ella returned to her room after practicing with Paris until midnight.
The room looked old and cramped, perhaps because she had become accustomed to the luxurious hotel room in just one week.
"Back in school, I used to share a room like this with four other people..."
In the end, the culprit wasn't caught.
The culprit might still be nearby.
Despite the situation, the supervisor insisted on continuing the performance tomorrow.
The show must go on.
She knew it, and everyone knew it, but they couldn't hide the unease in their hearts.
None of them would sleep well tonight.
But Ella's reason for not being able to sleep wasn't just that.
She was waiting.
Would his words really come true?
Then, in the distance, the sound of midnight bells ringing reached her ears.
At the same time, a strange figure appeared through the wall.
A white mask and a black hat pulled low.
"Hello, Miss Acrobat."
He's here!
Ella closed her eyes.
Ten kilometers away from here, in Wonderstein's bedroom at the hotel.
A single mouse dipped its paw into an ink bottle.
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