Killing the Possessor - Chapter 93

“Yes?”

Surprised, I blurted out a question first. The Count smiled knowingly and continued smoothly.

“Oh, of course, I don’t mean to say I suspect you. You simply caught my eye first, and since you’re over twenty, I thought it appropriate to mention.”

Honestly, it sounded rather malicious. To be singled out like that was chilling enough for an actual possessor, but bringing up age to a woman who’s been around a while hardly seemed innocent.

He was probably still annoyed that I’d been in the study earlier. And that orb was very likely about to brand me as a possessor.

Though I knew the orb was fake, I hadn’t expected to be the first sacrificial lamb in this witch hunt.

“I understand this may feel burdensome. I’ll go first, then.”

The Count said magnanimously, placing one hand on the orb. Like a plasma ball sparking with static electricity, several streaks of light connected his hand to the orb.

The crackling sound and sudden bright light startled the crowd nearby, causing them to step back. Unfazed, the Count kept his hand on the orb, grinned, then withdrew his hand.

“As you can see, the magical energy embedded inside reacted to my body. It’s a reflection of my soul’s wavelength. Had I been possessed, the soul wavelength would be a new form not recorded, so nothing would have happened.”

“…”

“Miss Camilli, would you care to try?”

At this point, it felt like a demand. Yet despite this unfair request, no one stepped forward, and dozens of eyes remained fixed on me.

Even Prince Wyner, who had argued with me moments ago, was no exception. Arms crossed, he narrowed his eyes and watched me intently.

Had I thought his suspicions were gone after hinting at a second chance? Apparently not.

“…Camilli.”

A small, trembling voice called my name. Ilui looked at me helplessly, clearly anxious.

I sighed, squeezed her hand briefly, then slowly stepped forward. The Count had already demonstrated the process; if I continued to refuse, I’d only stir trouble in this world full of suspicious people.

Well, there was no guarantee I’d be the sacrificial lamb. After all, Camilli Mute didn’t appear in this chapter in the original story.

It’d be fine. I told myself that.

As I placed my hand on the orb, following the Count’s instruction, a sharp red light surged the moment my fingers touched the glass surface. Startled, I stepped back, and the Count laughed heartily, clapping his hands.

“Hahaha, you’re perfectly safe.”

A poorly timed joke drew laughter from the crowd. To my frustration, even Wyner—who hadn’t so much as flinched while pressuring me—let out a slight chuckle.

I swallowed my boiling anger and silently returned to my place. Still, I supposed I was lucky the fake orb hadn’t labeled me a possessor. For someone who truly was a possessor, just not being the witch hunt’s target was reason enough to be grateful.

Perhaps because the first two candidates passed safely, the attitude of those who’d seemed wary of the strange object shifted noticeably.

“I’ll try next!”

“Me too!”

Led by a red-haired man, volunteers eagerly raised their hands. Their eyes sparkled with curiosity and interest.

Count Midas happily calmed the excited crowd.

“Ha ha, thank you for your enthusiasm, but as I said, the orb isn’t very durable and may not be usable many more times. So ideally, I want to use it to help the Public Security Bureau.”

“Hmph, then why make Miss Mute do it earlier?”

One disappointed volunteer grumbled my name. The Count smirked and looked toward me.