Chapter 32: The Ghost of Cabaret (6)
The second act began.
The murmurs of the audience subsided as the curtain rose, and the orchestra started playing.
With cheerful music filling the air, Shaila, who played the role of the princess, sang with a lively voice that echoed throughout the hall.
She proudly showed off the count's letter to those around her, her innocence and excitement evident.
She was truly a talented actress.
Her tears, shed while embracing the dancer during breaks, seemed worlds away from her current performance.
I was walking through the narrow spaces between the iron frames, higher up than the top-tier seats.
With each step, the creaking of the floorboards beneath me was audible, but it was drowned out by the voices of the actors and the instruments of the orchestra, not reaching any other areas.
Even as I passed by a staff member leaning on the railing several meters below, he didn't seem to notice me at all.
The structure of the Rose Windmill Cabaret was intricate.
The upper and lower seating areas were entirely separated, and the passageways for the staff connected them asymmetrically.
However, I had no trouble finding my way.
I had been in and out of this place countless times during the game.
I even discovered hidden paths not marked on the guide map.
Thanks to that, I could reach this spot without drawing anyone's attention.
From the ceiling of the hall, technicians responsible for managing the lighting and lifts occasionally passed by.
So, I had to move even more cautiously. It took some time, but I managed to circumnavigate without attracting anyone's gaze.
Finally, I reached the highest frame.
I looked down at the stage below.
The backdrop of the play had transformed from the princess's castle to the count's mansion.
The count and the sorcerer discussed what they needed for their sinister sorcery, while a maid eavesdropped from a distance.
The scene was about to change...
The count cornered the maid against the wall, mocking her love...
And then, the count forcibly kissing her...
Thud!
The orchestra produced a loud and low sound to signal the scene change.
I woke from my reverie.
He realized that the maid had overheard his secret.
He found a knife.
The maid knelt.
"I... I want Miss to come back. I won't tell anyone your secret, my lord. So, please, don't point that knife at me. Don't look at me with those eyes."
Ella delivered her lines flawlessly on this grand stage, unfazed and unshaking. Well, maybe not entirely unfazed, considering she was trembling. But could you blame her?
She had decided to participate in this play just thirty minutes ago.
Yet, she didn't pale in comparison to the other actors' auras.
"Very well. I shall go to the capital. There, I will..."
Wait, what am I doing?
This is no time to watch the play.
I raised my head and surveyed the space between the iron frames.
I had been watching the ceiling closely, as I had no idea where the ghost might be.
I had come about halfway.
I saw one of the chains supporting the ceiling lights suddenly drop.
Since it was not lit, only I could see it swaying.
It was clear that there was a ghost in that place.
He was considering dropping the light to kill the Count's actor.
Because he was the ruthless one who had his hands on his "little bird."
While I was scanning the area like that, I noticed another chain falling down with a whoosh.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
There.
Even in the darkest places, my eyes could detect slight changes.
An eye tracker.
It was a device I used when working with computers in the real world.
It literally tracked the position and movement of the eyeball, allowing you to control the mouse instead.
It was a technology that gave me mental arms and legs.
I used my eyes to turn on the computer, write, browse the internet, and play games.
After years of relentless effort, I was able to use the tracker within a sensitivity of "1 pixel."
In other words, I could control eye movement on a 4K-800 million pixel screen with one-pixel precision.
For me, analysing something I saw was as natural as breathing.
In my field of view, I could detect even the slightest pixel change.
The ghost's location.
As I approached it, I pondered on how to attack him.
He wasn't originally a character appearing as an enemy.
So there was no conventional strategy to deal with him.
But I was someone who had delved deep into the game called "Tril Trilo."
Finding ways to eliminate unlikeable supporters or allies was one of my main contents.
There was a way to get rid of Ghost Derek.
But it required some preparation.
But now, I wasn't proficient enough in handling the blade.
When I first arrived here, it took me a day to get used to walking and a day and a half to get used to using chopsticks. It was thanks to my body retaining the memory.
I had developed this ability only yesterday, inspired by watching the members hone their skills.
Derek watched my every move.
I could guess what he was planning.
I knew about his ability.
Material penetration.
He could literally pass through walls and floors like a ghost.
However, there were limitations to using this ability, and he couldn't carry heavy objects like a wrench while doing it, only light things like clothes or masks.
He intended to use his material penetration ability only when cutting the iron chain while I intended to restrict him from doing so with Mantula's blade.
But I was worried that my inexperience might lead to accidentally cutting the chain.
As we faced each other like this,
A voice from below the stage could be heard.
"Can you prove it? Can you prove your love?"
I absentmindedly recalled what had happened in the dressing room earlier.
The count slowly approaching Ella.
Ella retreating as if in fear.
The count's face towards her...
Ah.
I momentarily lost focus.
The Ghost didn't miss the opportunity.
He quickly cut the iron chain with a wrench in his hand.
Swish.
The light fixture plummeted downwards.
With a thud, something collapsed.
The Ghost passed through the wall and escaped.
I rushed to the spot where the light had fallen.
Was that his plan?
Was he really trying to drop it here?
What if, just what if he was targeting someone else?
I took the risk and stuck my head out to look down.
***
Act 2 began, and Ella took the stage.
I kept thinking about Wonderstein's words that he would be watching from the audience.
She tried her best to keep her gaze straight ahead and avoid scanning the audience.
It seemed like she would feel embarrassed if her eyes met his.
But unconsciously, my eyes flickered and I could see the empty seats.
Ha.
I let out a disappointed sigh.
I felt like a fool for being so nervous.
A ridiculous human. Better to keep my mouth shut.
Still, I believed in his ability to perform and write the script.
Then he could at least provide feedback on how her acting was and if there were any awkward moments.
Ella decided to stop paying attention to him altogether.
She focused solely on her performance.
The play continued, and reached the part Wonderstein had interrupted earlier.
"Can you prove it? Can you prove your love?"
The count approached her.
But his eyes seemed different from the ones in the dressing room.
Crafty, cunning, and greedy eyes.
As an unpleasant feeling started to rise, a bolt of lightning struck.
Crash. Sizzle.
A light fixture fell from the ceiling.
It smashed the count's head.
Blood and flesh splattered onto Ella's servant's attire.
The audience screamed and jumped out of their seats.
If it were a year ago, Ella might have just fainted.
But she had experienced worse hells since then.
She instinctively looked up at the ceiling where the light had fallen.
From her position, she could only see that angle through the gap between the ceiling's darkness and the steel frame.
And there, someone was looking down at her, smiling.
Frank Wonderstein.
She blinked once, and his figure disappeared.
However, Ella continued to stare blankly at the spot where he had vanished.
Until the other actors and staff rushed onto the stage.
