When The Silver Bell Of Charlotte's Pharmacy Rings - Chapter 39

Matiel’s arms went up, and then his jacket dropped onto Charlotte’s shoulders, covering and wrapping her body.

Charlotte looked up with surprised eyes, but Matiel ignored it and fastened the front of the jacket to prevent it from slipping.

“Stop shivering.”

Matiel said.

Charlotte frowned with a puzzled expression as if she had eaten slightly spoiled food, then suddenly burst out laughing like someone who had lost all strength.

“Say something more romantic. Telling me to stop shivering, it’s not like I’m shivering because I want to.”

“Something romantic, huh. I didn’t think you’d want to hear that kind of thing.”

A moment of silence passed, and Charlotte was staring up with her eyes, almost hidden by Matiel’s jacket.

She tried to smile again, but her lips trembled miserably.

I look like I’m having some kind of fit, Charlotte thought.

‘I might end up rolling around on this clean carriage floor. Damn it, why do I feel so bad? Why am I so…’

At that moment, Matiel cut off her trailing thoughts with a single stroke.

“Don’t worry so much, nothing will happen.”

Charlotte thought Matiel was wrong. It didn’t seem like nothing would happen.

Absolutely not… Her premonitions or intuitions were usually accurate.

No, not usually. They were almost prophetic.

As they entered the alley where Traiker’s house was located, the sound of the carriage wheels grew louder.

The four-wheeled carriage, moving slowly down the alley with oil lamps attached, was enough to draw people’s attention.

Charlotte saw the cold, tired eyes of those passing by through the window.

A woman walking with a basket full of plums, a man in shabby work clothes with oil-stained parts clutched in his hand…

Even a little boy walking along kicking stones with a bag of shoe polish and brushes slung diagonally across his body.

‘I hate humans.’

Charlotte thought.

She unconsciously picked at the hangnail beside her fingernail while pressing her lips together tightly.

‘Whatever happens, it’s not my business. But that man Bloz Traiker should be fine. I just need to confirm that… Just that one thing.’

The carriage, which had been gradually slowing down, came to a stop.

Before opening the door, Charlotte examined Bloz Traiker’s house through the window.

The lights were off. Had he already gone to sleep? It was possible.

He had been soaked in alcohol since midday, so there was a high chance he had passed out with his head on the table.

‘Or maybe he’s dead.’

The scathing and cold voice in her head startled Charlotte.

“Are you really alright?”

Matiel frowned slightly and leaned a bit towards Charlotte.

There was a scent of roses and very faint musk, but Charlotte was too exhausted to even notice it.

Although she had been sitting in the carriage the whole time, her breathing began to quicken as if she had been endlessly chased by something.

“Hey.”

Matiel’s hand grasped Charlotte’s shoulder.

In that moment, she felt as if the tangled threads in her mind suddenly found their proper place.

It was like the gritty sand that had filled her mouth was washed away all at once, or rather, it was something she had never experienced before.

Charlotte stared at Matiel with wide eyes.

“What did you just do?”

Matiel frowned as if she was saying something nonsensical.

“What do you mean, what did I do?”

“Just now…”

Charlotte trailed off, continuing to stare at him intently.

As if by doing so, she could get an explanation from him about what had happened.

But that won’t happen. Charlotte thought.

This man clearly doesn’t even know what he did. Or what’s happening.

It might be similar to how her magic doesn’t work on Matiel alone…

Charlotte shook her head, acutely aware of her suddenly clear mind.

“No, it’s fine. I’m okay now.”

She got out of the carriage, still wearing Matiel’s jacket.

And without realizing it, she carefully approached the front door while clutching the front of the jacket.

Are you really going to do this? The voice echoed in Charlotte’s mind once again.

Of course. Charlotte thought strongly, as if resisting it. I’m going to do it. I will.

She clenched her fist and knocked on the front door twice. Silence fell.

No lights came on, and there was no sound of anything moving or rustling inside.

He must be asleep. Charlotte thought. She knocked on the door again, this time more forcefully.

The sweat in her clenched palm made it slippery.

“Has Mr. Traiker fallen asleep?”

She muttered.

It was as if she was asking the tightly closed front door, ‘Hey, what’s your homeowner doing? Is he passed out drunk?’

‘Or maybe, could he be dead? No, that can’t be, right?’

Charlotte bit down hard on the tip of her tongue, which was tingling ominously.

It felt like bugs were crawling inside her mouth.

Bugs with countless thin legs and bodies covered in thick hair…

“Charlotte.”

Charlotte, who had been frantically rubbing her tongue against the itchy inside of her mouth, startled and turned her head towards the voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come over here for a moment.”

Matiel was behind the right corner of the entrance wall.

Charlotte approached him, suppressing the anxiety that was starting to rise again.

“Why?”

“Look inside. It might be hard to see at first because it’s dark, but I think you need to see this.”

Charlotte stared blankly at the glass window shrouded in darkness.

Dust had accumulated thickly on the windowsill, as if it hadn’t been cleaned for a long time.

Charlotte pressed her forehead against the shiny glass window and narrowed her eyes, straining to see.

The inside of the house was dark… Not a single small lamp was lit.

The darkness, enveloped in an eerie silence, gradually seeped into Charlotte’s pupils, opening up her field of vision.

She could see bottles of alcohol scattered on the table. Quite a few had fallen underneath as well.

The dark puddle pooled on the floor was the last thing to catch her eye.

There was also a bottle lying on top of that puddle, but judging by the spread on the floor, it didn’t seem to be spilled wine.

Moreover, it was… heading somewhere. It looked like something had been roughly dragged.

“Oh my god.”

Charlotte muttered in a trembling voice.

She jerked away from the window as if burned, then frantically shook and pounded on the front door.

“Mr. Traiker! Mr. Bloz Traiker!”

“Step aside.”

Matiel said. As Charlotte turned her head sharply and moved her body away, he lifted his long leg and kicked the door.

With the sound of hinges flying off, the wooden door sailed into the living room.

At that moment, Charlotte covered her nose with her sleeve and suppressed the urge to vomit. It was an unbelievable stench.

“Light. We need to turn on the light.”

Charlotte muttered hurriedly as she fumbled on the shelf to find matches and a lamp.

Her hand trembled several times as she struck the match, nearly making a mistake, but the flame soon caught.

The bright orange light spread out, illuminating the inside of the house.

Charlotte couldn’t continue speaking.

She thought she had seen many terrible sights in her life, but this was on a different level from anything she had seen in the past.

The blood pooled thickly in the living room was beginning to congeal stickily.

Charlotte stared intently at what looked like scraps of fiber mixed in with it, then saw where the blood trail led.

“The basement.”

Matiel said, as if reading her thoughts.

The door leading to the basement was wide open, with the lower part almost completely gone.

The cut surface was rough, as if an enraged and enormous dog, or a similar beast, had smashed into it with its entire body.

I don’t want to go. Charlotte thought, shaking her head. But her body was moving on its own, regardless of her thoughts.

Holding the lamp, Charlotte approached the basement one step at a time, with Matiel following closely behind.

He too felt the same sense of foreboding, but the thought that they needed to uncover the truth of this serious matter was stronger.

“…It’s on the stairs too.”

Charlotte said.

“The blood stains.”

“Let’s go down and see.”

Charlotte exhaled roughly and descended the stairs.

The stench was getting worse to the point where her nose was becoming numb, and her hand holding the lamp was shaking so much that the light danced wildly.

“Be careful not to slip.”

Matiel said. But Charlotte could barely hear his voice.

How far do these terrible stairs go? Do they lead all the way to hell? If I raise my head, will there be…

Will hell be there?

Charlotte almost dropped the lamp.

She gripped the sticky handle tightly, but the light shook even more violently.

Bloz Traiker’s corpse was on the basement floor.

They could see that half of his face was gone.

And through his torn clothes, they could also see that parts of his body were hollowed out as if something had eaten away at them.

“…Look over there.”

Matiel carefully wrapped his arm around Charlotte’s shoulder and made her turn the lamp.

Charlotte’s body staggered for a moment as she gasped for breath in short bursts.

There was a roughly scrawled sentence on the wall.

The heavily dripping marks, the dark color. There was no need to say what it was.

It was Bloz Traiker’s blood.

Whoever wrote that must have been unfamiliar with the existence of paint.

As Charlotte raised her arm a little higher, the flickering light revealed the sentence written all over the wall.

wearealreadyherewearealreadyherewearealreadyherewearealreadyherewearealre