—Well, would you look at that?
The odd exclamation didn’t really mean anything, but the agreement had gone through smoothly regardless.
Justyn, who’d seemed torn with inner conflict, had finally left to retrieve the doll.
“I brought it.”
What he returned with was a safe. One so solid it looked like even tossing it off the roof wouldn’t leave a dent.
“My ancestor once said—if it wakes up, it could cause a commotion. Said I should bind it somewhere. I figured this was the most effective way.”
Effective, yeah. Ries eyed the safe with a reluctant expression. No matter what kind of chaos might unfold inside, it didn’t seem like anything would break out of it.
Soon, three people and one fish plushie were gathered around the small vault.
Justyn, standing at the front, still looked visibly uneasy—like he hadn’t completely given up on stopping this.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?”
“Yup. Totally.”
Ries nodded with firm resolve. Justyn, seeing that, sighed and reluctantly stepped into his role.
He unlatched the lock and swung the heavy door open.
One person stiffened. Another braced themselves. Someone else held their breath in fear.
And then—a black figure shot out like a missile. It was so fast, it almost seemed like it had torn the air apart.
But standing right in front of it was Justyn. The thing streaking past at a blur was instantly caught in his hand, pinned in place.
—……! …!!
A strange, distorted noise erupted from the creature—so inhuman it could barely be called a voice.
—Knew it. No self-control whatsoever.
Sefiut clicked his tongue disapprovingly. It was only then that Ries could clearly make out what Justyn was holding.
A potato-shaped doll with wild, erratic features.
The very one Edler had been sealed into.
…Only now, it was jet black.
A curse.
Sefiut had been right. By being sealed inside the doll, Edler had taken on form—and Justyn’s curse was now reacting to his malice.
Whether it was lingering effects from the seal, or the last of his strength being spent—Edler no longer carried the same oppressive aura as before.
As if that burst had been his final show of defiance, the doll’s body quickly went limp in Justyn’s hand.
But his mouth still moved.
—You…
The voice that spilled out was faint, like it could vanish at any moment—but the hatred it carried was chilling enough to freeze the air.
—You killed me… and my wife… You destroyed my family… ngh. You took everything I held dear…!
—Kuhihik, huhihit, huhuhuhu…
Disturbing laughter. Ragged gasps between each line. The doll trembled, then began muttering again.
—That’s why… you mustn’t be happy. You can’t be happy…
Then it slumped again, twitching occasionally like a seizure. Sometimes, it would mumble in a delirious whisper that it was so cold, over and over.
Watching silently, Sefiut gave a clean assessment.
—Looks like it’s reacting to the curse.
“…The curse?”
—The one coiled around your body. That curse is so steeped in malice and resentment that a low-grade wraith like him—barely a hundred years old—can’t even get near it. Being exposed to it up close like this? Of course he’s losing it. Pathetic.
He spoke with disdain, as if Edler no longer even deserved consideration. Then Sefiut turned to Justyn, his big round eyes disinterested.
—Any final words?
A question asked out of formality—because they shared blood, perhaps. But someone in the room couldn’t tolerate even that.
Ries.
“Final words? That trash isn’t worth a single sentence! Forget it, Justyn. I’ll shut him up myself.”
He was so furious that his fists trembled as he clenched them.
Just being in the same space as Edler was revolting. He should’ve covered Justyn’s ears while that bastard was spewing filth—he regretted not doing so more than anything.
He rolled up his sleeves and was about to step forward—when Justyn blocked his way.
“Justyn?”
“There’s something I want to say.”
“…Fine.”
The murderous energy surrounding Ries began to ease. If Justyn wanted to handle it, he wouldn’t get in the way.
But doubt crept in.
He trusted Justyn—but still, what if…? What if, in some twisted way, he was planning to offer parting words out of blood ties?
“Father.”
The voice was calm. Gentle.
Justyn spoke with soft warmth.
“I’ve found someone I care about.”
—……!
“Thanks to them, I’ve come to understand what it means to feel happy.”
On the surface, it sounded like the perfect farewell. A son bidding peace to a father he’d never see again.
If this were a normal father-son relationship, Edler might’ve smiled, shed a tear, and passed on with pride. But their bond had long since been shattered beyond repair.
“So please—watch closely from hell, as I live the life you never could.”
…In other words, Justyn was deliberately twisting the knife.
You couldn’t do it. But I can.
Ries wanted to clap—literally. And he wanted to slap himself for even briefly doubting Justyn’s intentions.
—JUSTYYYYYYYYYYYN!!!
The provocation hit its mark perfectly.
Edler, who’d just been limp and mumbling, suddenly erupted into a scream so sharp it could split stone.
—Justyn, Justyn, damn you, Justyn! I curse you! Until my soul is utterly gone—I’ll never stop—kurgh!!
The doll thrashed, twisting its body with all its might—but that was the end of it.
A solid punch from Ries to the crown of the head shut him up for good.
“That’s enough, right?”
Justyn even managed to land a clean blow of his own. There was absolutely no reason to keep listening to the nonsense now. Or so they thought.
“Wait.”
“…Again?”
Blocked once more. Ries didn’t bother hiding the deep scowl on his face.
Justyn, clutching the wriggling potato doll, suddenly pulled out a handkerchief.
“You might hurt your hands. Be careful.”
“…”
…Ries was speechless.
The way Justyn carefully wrapped the cloth around his fists was so gentle it made his insides squirm.
Warmth seeped in through the fabric—like Justyn’s body heat was reaching him straight through the gloves.
Ries found himself absently stroking it with his thumb.
Didn’t even hit that hard…
He’d made sure to pull his punches—his fists had been softer than when he’d batted things around as a cat.
Still, being looked after didn’t feel bad at all.
Ignoring the way his heart skipped, Ries stepped forward again.
—Yus… ngh.
“You done talking?”
And with that, he punched the pathetic little doll square in the face.
Edler collapsed like a crumpled rag, completely overpowered.
What followed was almost cathartic. The doll didn’t even fight back. Ries pummeled it like dough.
It was barely bigger than his hand, and it couldn’t even let out a decent groan.
Pity? No chance. After everything it had done, not a shred of sympathy remained. If anything, he felt lighter. Even elated. Especially when the black mist surrounding Edler began to dissipate—clearly a sign the curse was breaking.
Emboldened, he struck harder.
—Gulp.
Sefiut watched the scene in horror. From one doll to another, it clearly didn’t sit well. He shuffled behind Ketir and tried to hide himself. And finally—
—Hil…rain…
A name no one recognized was muttered as Edler’s presence vanished—like a candle snuffed out.
The soul inside had completely disappeared. The doll began to fall apart. Its form, already withering, couldn’t hold any longer. It crumbled into powdery ash and scattered to the air.
“……”
Not a trace remained.
So ended the wraith. Such a pitiful, anticlimactic end. Perhaps feeling the same, Ketir asked hesitantly,
“Is it… over?”
“…Yeah. Probably.”
According to Sefiut, a wraith’s soul was nothing but pure malice. And that had been completely purified. Without that core, there was no way the soul could remain. It hadn’t moved on to the afterlife—it had simply vanished. If that counted as a second death, then Ries had just killed someone.
…But he didn’t feel guilty.
Someone had to judge the sins Edler committed in life and in death—and that someone happened to be him. Besides, the man had brought this on himself, forcing possession and setting himself up for destruction.
Justyn looks okay, too.
Most importantly, his master looked completely at peace. Like a weight he’d carried for years had finally been lifted. That alone was enough. The unease melted away faster than expected. Maybe it was Justyn’s calm face. Or maybe—
“Justyn.”
Ries stepped up, eyes blazing with determination. Perhaps the final closure had moved him more than he realized. Justyn stared, dazed, as if entranced. He only noticed Ries’s approach when they were within arm’s reach. But it was already too late.
Swift as ever, Ries grabbed his hand—more precisely, the glove. He slid his fingers under the snug leather and tugged. Justyn flinched. But no one could stop Ries now. He radiated the energy of a returning war hero.
While Justyn stood frozen, Ries smoothly pulled the glove off. The pitch-black leather, always hiding his skin, fell to the floor with a soft tap. Justyn’s bare hand was revealed.
“Your Grace—your hand…!”
The grotesque black veins were gone. It was completely clean.
Even Ketir, who had been slowly edging closer, stood frozen, jaw dropped. The transformation was that dramatic.
So imagine how Justyn must have felt. He stared at his own hand in silence, blinking like he was dreaming. Ries, meanwhile, was bursting with excitement.
“See? Your hand is clean! The curse is gone! I was right! You don’t have to wear gloves anymore, Justyn!”
His voice was full of joy, his feet bouncing in place.
It was easy to picture the old him—a cat, racing around in excitement after discovering something new.
YAYYYYYYYYYY