Killing the Possessor - Chapter 116

The love story between those two—divided by such a great difference in status—kept the people on the edge of their seats for ages, until it finally seemed to end in a happy ending.

Or so everyone thought, at least until the Brent Harvey possession incident.

During a training session, Brent suddenly collapsed with violent seizures. When he finally woke up days later, he’d lost all his memories and insisted he was not Brent Harvey, but a man named ‘Ha Do-seong.’

Even with the evidence clearly pointing to possession, Princess Shelyn never gave up on her husband. She even sought out Ren, Brent’s old friend, and created a scene at the Public Security Bureau.

Hearing that she’d gone on a hunger strike again, it seemed she’d recently petitioned the Emperor herself.

“It seems like these reports are only becoming more frequent lately. Did you hear? Lady Shuharan was apparently a possessor, too!”

“And so was Viscount Chapel.”

“Oh my goodness!”

Madame Raflet covered her mouth with her fan in feigned shock. But according to what I’d heard from Hongik Ingan, it was actually her who had turned in Lady Shuharan for possession.

The two, notorious as academy classmates who never got along, were known for their long-standing animosity.

“I suppose the exorcism ceremonies will make things noisy again for a while. I feel bad for the families.”

“Those wretched demons! They should all be hunted down and cast into the fires of hell!”

I glanced over at the lady spewing curses so venomously. She was the mother of Count Leslie—the one who’d recently gotten dumped after repeatedly cheating on his fiance.

As soon as Viscount Chapel was accused of possession and handed over to the authorities, she was the one who rejoiced the loudest.

Who could blame her? Viscount Chapel had appeared like a white knight, proposing publicly to her son’s ex-fiance. She probably saw Chapel’s incarceration as the key to restoring her son’s honor.

Sometimes, knowing too much can be a burden. I’d worked hard to memorize every bit of information in order to adapt to this world, but right now, I regret it more than ever.

It was a nauseating scene—ordinary people casually using the language of devils. Whether someone was driving the conversation with an agenda or simply going along with the crowd, once they began to speak like devils, it was as if they were donning the mask of one themselves.

The poisoned words in that tense atmosphere seemed to swirl, as if they could pierce anyone at the table at any moment.

“It really is the end times, isn’t it? In the old days, at least they’d get exposed right away, but these days, with all the dissidents, the Public Security Bureau has to get involved or nothing gets done.”

“The way possessors tell it, they were just ordinary people in the other world. Do you believe that? Doing things only a demon would do, and then trying to pass it off as some excuse.”

“It gives me chills. Taking over someone else’s body—that’s just wrong.”

Some of their fears were understandable, especially for people who had no clue what possessors actually went through.

But not everyone there deserved to be given the benefit of the doubt.

For example—

“It’s frightening. What if one of us here was a possessor?”

With a perfectly innocent expression, Yuli looked around the table, but I could tell she was subtly singling me out. Sure enough, the other ladies’ eyes all landed on me.

Among those shooting suspicious glances were a few who’d been at the Midas ball. Maybe because they saw me protecting Ailrose, who’d been under suspicion herself, there was a wariness in their gazes.

Even Princess Avelline, who’d done nothing but pet her reptile all afternoon, suddenly paused and looked at me.

The chameleon in her arms, reflecting my own nerves, had turned completely red.

A fact from a biology class suddenly flashed through my mind:

A chameleon unable to change its color to camouflage itself becomes easy prey. But sometimes, displaying bright, poisonous colors can actually scare off predators.

My eyes drifted to the tiered tray in front of the chameleon. Among the colorful pastries and treats, the ones that really caught my attention were the swirled, rainbow sugar cookies—dotted with brown and green food coloring.

It was impossible to tell from a glance if they’d taste nutty, just sweet, or something else entirely.

It was just like that moment when I’d looked into the odd hazel eyes of Rudolf Midas.

That feeling of playing Russian roulette with my own safety on the line.