Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 48

Alice watched as the flames ignited out of nowhere and screamed, dropping the small glass vial she was holding. The vial rolled at her feet. The liquid contents inside quickly drained away—but she was too distraught to care because a tall, thin shadow stepped out from the fire!

Though she had imagined such a scenario countless times, the reality of seeing it left Alice both shocked and frightened. A sliver of rational thought reminded her that her ritual had succeeded.

She had actually succeeded.

She was successful.

The trembling girl went blank, all her mental preparations dissolving in extreme terror. She didn’t even dare to look up, instead remaining stiffly in a kneeling position with her head low, exposing her fragile, slender nape—a posture of complete submission.

“Who are you?” the “person” who emerged from the fire asked in a low voice.

Alice visibly shuddered, bowing her head even lower.

“My name is Alice.”

“Why have you summoned me?”

“I… I beg you to lend me your power.” Alice was a determined girl. Although the voice clearly belonged to a man—contrary to her original intent to summon a witch—she heard that witches could change their appearances at will, so changing gender might also be within their capabilities. Moreover, she was already resolved. Though she couldn’t help feeling scared, she was prepared for the worst, no matter what she had summoned.

The figure remained silent. Alice gathered her thoughts and courageously continued, “My sister and I have been imprisoned, facing a future of endless humiliation and torture. I seek assistance from the dark and unknown. If my sister can be safe and free, I am willing to offer everything in seeking your help, including my soul of flesh and blood… I beg you.”

Despite feeling an icy chill in her stomach and being stiff with fear, her good upbringing allowed her to keep the conversation going. The ritual fire had already extinguished, and she felt the figure approaching her in the dark. Her forehead began to ache, and the feeling of dizziness intensified—

“Breathe,” the voice instructed.

Alice paused, realizing she had been so tense that she had forgotten to breathe.

But more surprises were to follow.

“—Miss Alice, you know in your heart that such a half-baked magic circle can’t fulfill your wishes, right?”

Charlie crouched down. Even in the darkness, he tried to make eye contact with the girl, who couldn’t stop trembling. “I’m sorry, but you’ve summoned just an innocent bystander.”

Alice raised her head, barely making out a vague humanoid silhouette. The conversation seemed to have drained all her energy, rendering her momentarily voiceless.

The shopkeeper, summoned by the mysterious magical fire, looked around. It seemed they were in a huge wooden box. The surroundings were empty and dimly lit, allowing him to see some stones (perhaps salt crystals) on the ground, slowly burning sage and mint, and weirdly shaped mummies, possibly lizards or geckos.

An unorganized summoning spell. Perhaps even the incantations were cobbled together without any effect.

Such disorganized “magic” wasn’t uncommon among the folk, but most of the time it yielded no results. Honestly, it was evident that the girl knew nothing about magic, and the ritual and procedures were full of errors. Yet, she somehow managed to summon him from an alley in Ropappas, which was indeed odd.

“You… aren’t a witch?” Alice slowly processed Charlie’s words, suddenly engulfed by immense despair. “But you…”

Have a rabbit head.

And don’t look human at all.

Charlie knew what she was thinking but could only shrug regretfully. “I didn’t choose to look like this. It’s just an evil curse. I’d be happy to tell you my story under the sunlight, but please move aside, miss. You don’t mind if I open the door, right? Sorry, I’m a bit allergic to boxes…”

He found something resembling a door seam. As he was about to push it open, Alice suddenly came to her senses and stopped him.

“No! They might be right outside.”

Charlie raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture, reluctant to meddle but unable to remain indifferent to a frightened girl’s tears.

“Who’s outside?” he asked in a lowered voice.

“‘Mother’s’ people,” Alice said, looking at him without showing any surprise or fear at the rabbit-headed figure in front of her. “She never allows girls to escape. I wasn’t trying to run away. I just wanted to find a place where no one was to summon…”

Charlie promptly interrupted her.

“Holch’s Second Principle: No matter what you find, never casually recite their names around magical items,” he said sternly. “Belief can resonate with their names and cause magical fluctuations. Without preparation, a trade can turn into a sacrifice.”

Alice looked at his fuzzy, prominently eared head silhouette, speechless.

“Seeking the unknown is like pouring water into boiling oil, miss. Why would you do something so dangerous?”

Alice seemed to be jolted back to reality by his question, suddenly convulsing a bit then quietly sobbing.

Just as Charlie had observed, she knew nothing about magic, but she was educated enough to recite some complex ancient texts, which allowed her to barely manage the incantations and complete the ritual.

Three months ago, Alice herself would never have imagined resorting to such ludicrous means for help. She and her sister, Lily, were the daughters of a country gentleman—not the most respectable nobility, but still well-off and carefree.

Five months ago, while on a holiday in the south with their governess, they encountered bandits; the coachman and governess were killed, and only she, her sister, and a maid were taken to a secluded castle, along with many other unfortunate girls.

They told Alice that the castle’s mistress, a woman named Mistress Daisy, claimed to be all the girls’ “Mother”.

The castle held secret balls every moonlit night, during which the girls were required to dress up, do their hair, and dance with all the guests. To Mistress Daisy, these young girls were no different from the bacon and champagne on the table.

Once the music stopped and the lights went out, the guests left the castle, and like sheep briefly allowed to graze, the girls were trapped in the castle with no freedom. Any girl who resisted would be starved, and indeed, some did starve to death.

Because Alice and her sister Lily were educated and could play the piano and recite poetry, “Mother” would provide them with embroidered gowns and introduce them to pickier guests.

Lily had always been sickly. Their vacation was also to let her spend winter in a warmer place to ease her cough. There had been no balls for a long time due to the cold winter, giving the girls a break, but lately, Lily had been feverish repeatedly, and Mistress Daisy’s patience was running thin. Desperate, Alice turned to black magic, remembered from her random readings, hoping at least to save Lily.

Charlie frowned in the darkness. This type of coercion wasn’t typical for the Fox family, and no small workshop could operate on such a scale—truthfully, even in those chaotic underground cities, such events were rare.

He considerately kept his distance from the still-trembling, frail girl. The manager of the castle she mentioned seemed to be a tyrannical woman. She would mercilessly torture any girl who dared to flee or resist, ensuring their screams and struggles would be deeply imprinted on everyone’s mind.

Over time, almost everyone gave up resisting. If not for her sister, Alice wouldn’t have had the courage to gather ritual supplies and sneak out of her room unnoticed to hastily perform a summoning spell.

Unfortunately, the magic didn’t succeed.

Although the shopkeeper believed himself to be quite capable, he wasn’t the powerful magical creature Alice had hoped for, able to summon thunder and lightning to level the ugly castle.

But the shopkeeper had his ways.

He convinced Alice, who was deeply mired in sorrow, to calm down. To comfort her, he agreed to help investigate the mysterious castle and, if possible, seek outside assistance for her.

“You will help me…?” Alice looked at him blankly, her vision blurred by tears.

“Though I am not a witch, I may have something of interest to you. We could make a trade if you like,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper said.

Alice struggled to pull herself from her sadness, sounding uncertain. “Can you get me out of here?”

“No, I am not a mercenary, and it’s best not to confront bad people directly,” Charlie said in a soothing, low voice. “But perhaps I can help you achieve your wish.”

Alice’s wish was clear. She wanted to leave with her sister.

Despite her chaotic emotions, she maintained some clarity while still sniffling. “A trade… What do you want from me? I have nothing but my soul to offer right now.”

“Like I said, I am not a witch.” Charlie sighed, handing her a clean, plain handkerchief. “I’ve seen situations like yours before… Don’t worry. I don’t intend to use our deal for any nefarious purposes. As for compensation, we can discuss that once this is all over.”

He looked at the young girl calmly, knowing the deal was settled. There was nothing more compelling to a person in desperation than hope itself, and this girl was ready to sacrifice her soul.

According to the rules of 22 Paulownia Street, it was up to the shopkeeper to judge whether a client truly had nothing left.

In the eyes of the girls, the closed-off castle was much like a heavily guarded prison, but to the shopkeeper, who had managed to infiltrate even royal palaces, it was another matter.

With agile skills and a bit of misdirection, the patrolling guards almost never stood a chance of catching him, and if he wished to leave, he didn’t even need to wait for nightfall.

Charlie crouched in the shadow of an ornate cabinet, rubbing his fingers.

Even if he hadn’t made a deal with Alice, a gentleman couldn’t simply ignore the tears of a frightened girl. True to his nature as a women’s advocate and troublemaker, Charlie decided to conduct some preliminary investigations before leaving temporarily—entirely out of a sense of justice and not as an excuse to leave the Duke hanging in the inn.

Alice returned to her cramped room, where she was greeted by her roommate Daphne’s shrieking accusations of stealing her hair ribbon.

The castle strictly forbade girls from staying alone in a room. Each room had to house at least three girls so they could keep an eye on each other. Informants reporting unfaithful thoughts among roommates were rewarded.

Daphne wasn’t easy to get along with. Under normal circumstances, Alice would have argued with her, but her mind was so consumed by what the rabbit-headed Charlie had told her that she could hardly hear Daphne’s ranting.

Daphne, getting no response, grew angrier and pushed her. “Give me back my hair ribbon!”

Alice stumbled back, then suddenly looked up sharply at Daphne. Daphne paused, sensing something was off. She knew Alice had been under a lot of pressure because of Lily’s condition, but…

Alice, still staring intently into Daphne’s eyes with an abnormal, fervent zeal, said, “I want to leave here.”

Daphne’s expression changed instantly.

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