Episode 9

"You're suffering from stress-induced gastritis. It's crucial to have three well-balanced meals in a comfortable environment..."

There was no work-life balance when it came to the office.

Ute sighed as he noted the diagnosis.

"I will prescribe stomach medication."

"And could I also receive some fatigue recovery pills?"

"You were prescribed ten days' worth just four days ago... Still, I understand."

The shadows under the man's eyes showed through his glasses.

The sight of the poor soul working lifelessly while doping on fatigue recovery pills was all too vivid.

'This is why you shouldn't have become an aide.'

The count's closest advisor. Out of the countless others, this man was the only trusted aide.

'And that is why this poor man is working himself to the bone.'

Born as a brilliant bespectacled man in this harsh world, the thorny path ahead of him seemed painfully inevitable.

"Are you alright?"

"Pardon?"

"You seem quite unwell."

"This is how I always am."

"And how is the Count?"

"Well..."

Now was not the time.

It was only natural to assume that a physician often tended to the master and mistress, but that wasn't the reality.

Typically, each estate owned a resident doctor for generations.

As a relatively new addition, Ute Velvet was visited by the Count's close aides, rather than the nobles themselves.

'Thanks to that, I've yet to examine the Count or the Countess.'

Although he entrusted the Countess to Sonnet Posa...

'There's probably nothing she can do right now.'

The beginning of a story was always difficult to grasp.

If he could roughly outline the plot, it was fortunate; more often than not, he couldn't.

'I've wasted so many opportunities that way.'

This time had to be different. Ute skillfully assigned his prescription and continued.

"If you notice any change, however small, in the Count's complexion or behavior, please let me know."

"Hmm."

"It is those around you who tend to notice changes first."

The aide nodded slightly.

'If I drop small hints like this, he'll think of me when needed.'

Fortunately, the aide was favorable towards the new doctor.

This should be enough for today—

"Now that you mention it..."

"Yes?"

"He's been a bit different these past few days."

"Different? How?"

Changes in the male lead were good signs in a romance story.

'It means love is beginning to sprout.'

Like a normally expressionless person smiling, a cold-hearted person showing emotion, or an indifferent man noticing shop displays they'd previously ignored.

"How to describe it, hmm, a bit..."

"A bit?"

"It's become annoying."

"Can you explain... in more detail?"

"I can't tell you how many times he's rewritten the same proposal."

"...."

"He keeps asking for approved reports again and continues rescheduling inspections."

"...."

"He demanded the entire list of servants and new investigations on already completed matters... Hah."

Wouldn't that just be a bad boss?

Never mind the diagnosis, this master was just a straight-up menace.

'But I can't say that.'

Ute bore a serious expression on his face.

"That's quite troubling."

"Well, it's not a huge problem..."

"Stress is the root of many illnesses. The Count's body and mind might be undergoing small changes that nobody has noticed."

"Is that so?"

"May I examine him for a brief check-up?"

"Perhaps for three minutes..."

The Count had remained in his office since dawn.

'No wonder the aide always carries fatigue control pills.'

Tsk. The boss's lack of insight was the subordinates' burden.

"Doing unnecessary things from the morning."

"It's good to get checked once. What's the point of hiring smart doctors otherwise?"

"That's... do as you wish."

As the Count permitted, the aide signaled swiftly. Just glancing at his overworked face made Ute feel the need to discover some diagnosis.

"Good morning, Count."

"Hurry up and get it over with."

"Of course."

As Ute approached, a strange sense of discomfort washed over him.

"What's this?"

He squinted and identified the oddity.

Text floated above the Count's head.

Why Do You Keep Obsessing Over Your Terminally Ill Wife? (141/998)

The text remained unchanged even as he blinked.

Witnessing romance novel titles and word counts above people's heads didn't surprise Ute anymore.

The surprising part was...

"The numbers..."

Had changed. On the interview day, it had been '15'.

Now, the amount of chapters passed was... nearly tenfold!

"Numbers?"

"Oh my, have you been dealing with complex figures lately?"

"Yes."

"This is a typical case of sleep deprivation due to brain overload. I recommend reducing your workload and getting adequate rest."

As the male lead, he wouldn't die from overwork.

Ute spouted nonsense and bolted out of the office.

Fortunately, it was early in the morning, so there weren't many people around.

'Just what happened in the matter of a few days!'

Lengthy romance fantasies rarely jumped in development like this.

'I haven't even intervened properly.'

Just gathering rumors within the mansion hadn't affected the plot at all.

So there was only one variable.

"What the hell have you done?"

Sonnet Posa.

---

"What on earth did you do—"

The man, panting heavily, pulled away his hands abruptly.

"Oh, sorry."

You can keep holding me.

I patted my shoulder, still warm from his touch.

"That's alright. But what did I do?"

"If it wasn't for you, Miss Sonnet, then..."

His lips moved as he glanced around.

"Can you spare some time now?"

"Yes."

If Ute Velvet needed me, I'd break the clock tower to help him.

Ute Velvet led me to a large examination room. After drawing the curtains and locking the door, he spoke.

"Now explain. What have you been doing?"

"I worked."

"Just work?"

His furrowed eyebrows were a work of art. Was the golden ratio embodied within Ute Velvet?

"As a servant, I only did my job. Though I did serve the madam's meal once on the first day... Oh!"

Come to think of it, I had many questions myself.

"Can ghosts be romance protagonists?"

"Not usually, but... a ghost?"

"Well, yesterday and the first day..."

I briefly explained the events that occurred with the Madam—her strangely friendly attitude, suspicious words, and the flower petal incident.

The more I explained, the more amusement tinged his face.

"Do you remember what I told Miss Sonnet?"

"..."

"I said we needed to finish the romance story."

"Does that require someone's death?"

"No, that's not... "

His red lips quivered.

After a moment of distant gazing, his eyes fixated on me.

"Why do you keep obsessing over your terminally ill wife?"

"Terminally ill, what?"

"Do you feel any type of way from the title?"

"...It's long?"

"No, I mean the expected content... Nothing comes to mind?"

"Um... If you think about it, why would someone be obsessed with his terminally ill wife? Did she steal his money..."

Did I say something wrong?

The man's pupils wavered, unable to find focus.

"What does Miss Sonnet usually do on her vacation days?"

"I lie on my bed."

"..."

"Moving costs money. Going out wastes rent."

"No, no, that's not the problem..."

"..."

"Miss Sonnet, what do you think romance is?"

Here comes the sweet nonsense again.

"Two people causing trouble for everyone else by claiming they're in love."

"..."

"Am I wrong?"

"Not entirely. But is that all?"

"Yes."

His waxy-crafted skin grew even paler.

"This theory is a bit far-fetched..."

His green eyes darkened.

He counted his fingers and asked softly.

"Miss Sonnet, when is your next day off?"

"Not decided yet."

"Perfect. Let's go out together."

His large hands gently wrapped mine.

"I'll show you what romance is, step by step."

---

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