The Villainous Me Turned the Losers into Blackened Bosses-Chapter 282 - Springtime for the Beastkin Maid (6)

So, what would Carver say?

Before Eir could speak, Will tried to guess. But as he turned the question over in his mind... he found he had no answer.

As always, everything about the man he called “father” was an unsolvable enigma to him. Otherwise, even encountering Carver in Treya’s dream wouldn’t have made him instinctively step back in fear.

So, what did Carver say...?

“He told me Young Master doesn’t need Eir anymore. That Young Master abandoned Eir—so Eir is free now and can do whatever she wants.”

Eir recited the answer in a calm, matter-of-fact tone—one that left no room for deception. (Though she had no reason to lie.)

“......”

That’s it? That’s it?!

This was all Carver said to her? The same Carver who seemed determined to trip him up at every opportunity?

On the surface, it sounded like something Carver might say. It even aligned with...

Will glanced down at Eir, pressed against his chest, ears twitching attentively as she waited for his response.

“What’s wrong?”

—It was something he himself had once hoped to tell her. He wanted Eir to be free—because that was the real happy ending she deserved.

But for Carver to seek her out now, on the eve of his wedding to Treya, and say something like that... His motives were unclear.

And worse...

Carver had subtly linked two things that didn’t belong together: freedom and being abandoned by Will.

In other words, unless he could break Eir out of that mindset, she would never willingly let go of her identity as “Young Master’s maid.”

But even then, that alone shouldn’t have twisted her into this state—one where she was so certain of his love, so desperate to receive it from him.

“It’s nothing. Did you believe what he told you?”

Will reached out, fingers trailing along the longer strands of hair framing Eir’s face.

Because in the end, Eir was his maid. He was the one who shaped her.

“Of course I didn’t believe him! Because the question Young Master wrote in the ‘300 Questions for Going Blackening’ already told me—Young Master didn’t abandon Eir. Young Master still loves Eir!”

—Unless he had messed something up.

“Wait... The numbers. Those numbers!”

“Eir, what exactly was the number I wrote?”

“Two hundred ninety-six. Why?” (tln : 296)

Hearing her firm answer, a sinking feeling settled in Will’s gut.

Right.

The number she saw was correct—at least, from her perspective.

“...Recite Question 296 for me?”

“Hmm?”

Without hesitation, Eir obeyed like a machine:

“Question 296.”

“If the person you love joins forces with another woman—or even another species—to push you into a corner, what should you do?”

—Not that one. That wasn’t the question he meant to reference.

The moment he heard it, Will realized his mistake.

Because of all the questions in the book, this was one he knew by heart—one he had deliberately crafted to guide Eir’s final actions.

And so...

By the first line of her answer, he understood exactly how she’d ended up like this.

“First, believe this: He cannot hate you. He cannot abandon you for someone else.”

“Second, find the woman standing beside him and punish her severely.”

“Finally, take back the one who loves you. Protect him at your side, so he can never resent you.”

“......Right. Okay.”

He exhaled deeply.

Mystery solved.

Will felt like he deserved an award for Romantic Tragedy Sleuth of the Year.

This was the question right before the one he had meant to reference—the one about what to do if he disappeared. But in his panicked, life-or-death state, he had instinctively defaulted to the original numbering from the draft—where counting started at zero.

So instead of referencing Question 297, he had written 296.

And just like that, he had outsmarted himself—betrayed by his own precious foreknowledge and brilliant game design instincts.

“Young Master, you don’t seem happy... Did Eir do something wrong? Eir will fix it right away—”

“No, no, it’s not... Mm.”

Now hyperaware of how his every reaction might further destabilize her, Will forced his tone to remain neutral:

“You did well. So... go ahead with your work for now.”

“Mm!”

As he sat back down at the table, it dawned on him—this, too, was part of the tangled web of fate. In the end, he still hadn’t escaped the grasp of the yanderes he’d created.

Except now, the force controlling him wasn’t the original story anymore.

It was the seeds he himself had planted.

So... what should he do now?

Leaning back, Will closed his eyes and let his mind go blank—a rare moment of true stillness amidst the usual whirlwind of thoughts.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

When he opened them again, his gaze drifted to the chandelier overhead—its distance hard to gauge with his uneven vision.

Priorities. First, deal with the eyesight.

Holding up his glasses, he peered through the lenses at the garden outside.

The left lens distorted the view into a blur, but the right one sharpened the image—revealing Eir, already at work. She stood by the clothesline where her freshly washed maid dress hung, gripping a pair of rusted shears as she trimmed the overgrown weeds.

Noticing Will at the window, she paused—setting the intimidating tool aside—and looked up.

Her soft, brown wolf ears, nearly the same shade as her hair, twitched in the breeze alongside the swaying grass.

Then...

She raised a hand and waved at him, smiling.

The overcast sky chose that moment to break, a sudden beam of sunlight painting a golden circle around her.

Blinking against the brightness, Eir shielded her eyes with one hand, turning toward the newly emerged sun. Then, bouncing slightly, she pointed at the light—as if urging him to look, too.

Though he couldn’t hear her, he understood.

......His heartbeat was steady but strong and pulsed in his ears. It wasn’t faster, just stronger.

“Weird—no, actually... this feels right.”

A warmth curled in his chest.

Maybe...

Maybe even like this, with an Eir who craved his love...

It wasn’t so bad.