Why Do You Obsess Even After Death (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
“Are you really alright?”
Pesoor asked worriedly. After sending the two away, I made up an excuse about feeling dizzy and utterly drained, then called for Pesoor.
“I wouldn’t have gone through with this if I weren’t alright.”
I replied vaguely and pulled out a suicide note I’d prepared earlier from the drawer.
「……There’s no point in enduring this pain any longer. I was destined to die anyway—this is just happening a little sooner. Please make sure everyone knows I wished for Detor and Delia to be happy. And be sure to add that a child resembling both of them would surely be incredibly beautiful. That’s my final wish as I depart. Do not blame or punish anyone because of this. It’s my last request as your daughter, Father. Now I’ll finally find peace, so please just let me go.」
Every word was meticulously crafted.
The tragic tale of a terminally ill noble lady, already devoid of life’s meaning, driven to despair after being betrayed by her only fiancé and friend, ultimately taking her own life.
I’d worked hard on this story, assuming the two enjoyed melodrama.
“After leaving the family, where will you go?”
“I need to see how things unfold after my death.”
I had to know exactly what would happen after I died.
Faking my death to vanish safely, then hunting down the mad killer—
that was my goal.
To do that, I needed a motive so convincing no one would suspect a thing—and luckily, those two pests had provided the perfect justification.
That killer had clearly told me, “I must have you for myself at least once, in the end.” He was undoubtedly a pervert who attached meaning to personally ending my life with his own hands.
‘Now, how will he react?’
He won’t even get the chance to stage his grand finale now that I’ve gone ahead and died on my own terms.
Just thinking about it sent a thrill through me.
“You sometimes say things I can’t understand, my lady…”
Pesoor shook his head and pulled a small vial from his medical bag. Inside shimmered a crimson liquid.
“It’s the blood of a beast, nearly identical to human blood.”
“Thank you.”
Glancing out the window, I saw the weather was perfectly dreary—just right.
“Even the weather favors you, my lady. With these gloomy clouds, the moon will surely be hidden.”
“Good news.”
In truth, having relived this day several times, I already knew it would be overcast and chose accordingly.
“Pesoor, just tell everyone my condition was very poor today, and my mental state was unstable.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I’ll say this again—no one must ever learn that I’m still alive.”
“Yes.”
“If that secret gets out, I won’t hesitate to spread your weaknesses far and wide. Be prepared.”
“We’re already in this together, my lady—on the same boat.”
Pesoor answered respectfully and pulled another small vial from his bag. Inside lay a transparent pill, far smaller than a fingernail.
“What’s this? I never asked for anything like this.”
“In case you’re ever unavoidably exposed, wouldn’t it help to have a way out if ‘Referentia Niriel’s’ appearance differs somehow? This pill changes the color of your eyes.”
“My eye color will change?”
“Yes. I feared it might be dangerous for your new beginning.”
“…Ah. I hadn’t even thought of that. Thank you—I’ll use it well. I mean it.”
“Since you rarely attend social events, few people recognize your face, but just in case, always carry it with you.”
“Luckily, I’ve wandered around without a hat before, and hardly anyone recognized me.”
I laughed lightly, putting on a playful act. Every day, I’d been so focused on escaping the killer and figuring out his identity that I’d forgotten what truly mattered.
First and foremost was hiding without revealing my true identity.
“The effect lasts one day. You must take it at the same time every day; miss the timing, and your eyes will revert to their original color. It’s crafted through alchemy and medical science.”
“You’re truly amazing… so capable, Pesoor.”
“It’s been an honor serving you, my lady. Call for me anytime you need my help.”
“I will. I’ll remember, Pesoor… Come to think of it, I also prepared something for you.”
I gave a hollow laugh and handed him a thick pouch from the third drawer.
“I debated what to give you and figured you’d like money best.”
Pesoor accepted the pouch in surprise, opened it, and upon seeing its contents, jumped back in shock.
“This… this much money—I can’t possibly accept it…”
“Use it to pay for medicine in the slums. Didn’t you just complain about lacking funds? Being kind-hearted is fine once or twice, but if you keep giving away everything you earn to the poor, you’ll have nothing left. Besides, one person running around can’t solve systemic poverty.”
“My lady…”
“Don’t give me those teary eyes. I’m just paying you for keeping my secret. Think of it as hush money. Since I paid handsomely, you’d better keep it quiet.”
Pesoor clamped a hand over his mouth and tucked the pouch deep into his coat.
The bulge in his chest from the pouch looked rather amusing.
“Now go. The Empire will be in an uproar starting tomorrow.”
“I’ve already prepared what you ordered.”
“Good. You’ve worked hard until the very end.”
“Wherever I am, I’ll pray for your happiness.”
“You’re probably the only one who’d wish me happiness after being blackmailed into helping.”
I waved my hand dismissively, as if annoyed. Pesoor bowed deeply with lingering reluctance in his eyes, then left the bedroom.
And I began acting despondent all day long.
I stubbornly sent away the maids insisting on wedding preparations for tomorrow, pretended to cry loudly, and refused all meals.
When the head maid asked what was wrong, I gave a wistful smile and left her with the words, “You must be happy.”
It was a perfect day.
Late that night,
when the clouds had completely veiled the moon and darkness settled in, I rose from my feigned slumber.
With the wedding tomorrow, the atmosphere was chaotic, and few eyes watched over me.
“Time to move.”
I pulled out the vial of beast blood Pesoor had given me earlier.
I uncorked it and poured about half the crimson liquid onto the bed.
The metallic stench of blood instantly filled the room.
“Good.”
Anyone seeing this would assume the bed’s occupant had been gravely ill. Having staged the scene, I slipped out of the bedroom, avoiding prying eyes.
I’d lived through “today” countless times.
I knew exactly who stood guard, who passed through which corridor at what hour and paused where. Evading notice was child’s play.
‘Goodbye to this place, then.’
I glanced toward my father’s study. On the final night before his only daughter’s wedding, the light in his study still burned brightly.
Not once had my father visited me on the eve of my wedding—not in this life, nor any previous one, even knowing I was terminally ill.
‘Goodbye.’
I silently bid my final farewell, turned away, and as I walked, I let drops of the red liquid from the vial trail behind me.
So it would seem I’d left the mansion in my weakened state.
Heading toward the kitchen’s side entrance, I spotted a carriage—the very one used to secretly sell leftover ingredients from the kitchen.
Inside the cargo hold sat a large wine barrel Pesoor had prepared in advance. I capped the vial, slipped it into my pocket, and squeezed myself inside.
‘It’s cramped. Should’ve asked for a bigger barrel.’
Since the head chef used this carriage to pocket bribes behind my father’s back, no one would suspect I’d escaped this way.
Moments later, a servant cautiously appeared, glanced around, and the carriage began to move.
No one found it suspicious—the carriage always left at the same time each day.
It slipped out of the estate far too easily. Not long after leaving, the carriage halted.
‘Now.’
I seized the chance, slipped out unnoticed, and fled.
With the moon hidden behind clouds, the streets were unusually empty. I pulled on the robe I’d prepared and headed down a shortcut I’d scouted beforehand.
Having walked this path myself multiple times whenever I had the chance, I encountered no obstacles. Reaching the base of the hill behind the estate, I spotted a horse tethered to a tree.
Pesoor had arranged it for me—a gentle, well-trained one, carefully selected.
“Your role is important.”
I approached, patted the horse a few times, then mounted. The horse, having practiced with me many times before, naturally began climbing toward the mountaintop.
Riding had been easy since I’d practiced since childhood.
Deep in the pitch-black mountains, where not even a hand’s breadth ahead was visible—
it felt like a reflection of the path I was about to walk.
Periodically, I stopped to pour the remaining blood from the vial, etching my trail clearly. The bloodstains leading to the summit would mark my final resting place.
After a long climb, I finally reached the cliff at the summit and stopped.
“Good job.”
I stroked the horse’s mane, then poured the last of the crimson liquid onto the ground.
As if this were truly my end.
“Falling from here would be instant death.”
It was a dizzying height with no visible bottom. Just glancing down made my head spin.
I removed one shoe and tossed it carelessly over the edge.
Thud. Thud-thud.
The shoe tumbled swiftly down, swallowed instantly by the thick darkness. If ever found by luck, they’d assume my body had fallen just as pitifully.
I took off my other shoe and left it precariously balanced on the cliff’s edge.
I also pulled out my usual handkerchief and tucked it into a crack in the rock.
“Today, Referentia Niriel died.”
In the pitch-black darkness, I abandoned everything.
I removed my robe and gently draped it around the neck of the horse that had brought me here.
“It won’t take long—wait here just a bit. They’ll come looking for you soon.”
As if understanding me, the horse snorted softly. I patted it once more, then walked back alone the way I’d come.
The next day,
the wedding between the Niriel and Deberti families—the Empire’s grand celebration—was canceled.
Simultaneously, a shocking revelation swept across the Empire.
On what should have been the happiest day,
news broke that Referentia Niriel had died.
A handwritten suicide note was discovered, and testimonies poured in about Referentia’s long-standing illness and suffering.
Moreover, bloodstains presumed to be hers were found throughout the mansion and up to the mountain cliff, where her shoes and handkerchief were also recovered.
Since the horse she’d apparently ridden was found at the summit, it was concluded she never descended—and her death was ruled a suicide.
Instead of a lavish wedding, the Empire held a grand funeral. The Emperor, deeply grieved by the tragic loss of the bride-to-be, granted permission for a memorial banquet at the Niriel estate as a gesture of condolence.
And then…
“What’s with that look? I told you to contact me anytime you needed help. Why so grumpy?”
“Well, yes, but… I didn’t expect you to summon me so soon.”
“It’s my memorial banquet. I can’t very well miss it.”
I was attending my own memorial banquet with Pesoor’s help.
Pesoor chuckled, amused despite himself, and muttered something under his breath. I’d disguised myself as his acquaintance—a priest from the temple.
No one would suspect the Empire’s esteemed personal physician. It was clear just how trusted Pesoor truly was.
“But why take such a risk…”
“We’ve arrived.”
Pesoor cut himself off and pressed his lips shut. The carriage stopped, the door opened, and Pesoor stepped out, pressing his black hat firmly onto his head.
I fitted a thin silk cloth over my ears, covered my face leaving only my eyes visible, and followed him out, carrying a basket filled with white lilies.
I’d already taken Pesoor’s specially prepared pill to change my eye color. No one seeing my lavender eyes would associate them with Referentia.
The guard at the gate recognized Pesoor’s face and glanced briefly at me behind him.
“A priest sent to comfort the departed lady’s spirit on her journey afar, ensuring no lingering regrets remain within the estate. They say if her regrets aren’t properly resolved, her soul won’t leave the mansion.”
“Huh?”
“According to the priest, the lady’s spirit is filled with deep resentment.”
“…You mean she’ll become a vengeful ghost?”
Pesoor suppressed a laugh at the guard’s question and glanced at me, then nodded solemnly.
“I informed the master yesterday, but he’s been so distraught over losing his daughter that my message likely didn’t get through properly.”
The guard, seemingly satisfied by Pesoor’s casual explanation, exchanged whispers with his companion, then stepped aside to let us pass.
Once inside and out of the guards’ sight, Pesoor’s tense shoulders visibly relaxed.
“This medicine really works. With different eye color, I feel completely at ease.”
“Sigh… I really don’t have a talent for acting.”
“You were plenty shameless when you declared yourself a vengeful ghost.”
I elbowed Pesoor’s side and jerked my chin forward.
“You lied smoothly enough about Father being heartbroken over losing me.”
“That part is true. I told the master I’d brought a powerful priest to comfort the lady on her final journey, and he granted permission to ease her lingering regrets.”
“How ironic. Ease regrets, indeed.”
“He truly is heartbroken. He’s neglecting his duties and skipping meals.”
Father? Right.
“Never mind that—just act well enough not to get caught. No one here will suspect you.”
“…If you were going to return to your own memorial banquet anyway, why fake your suicide and run away?”
“It’s different. I’m not here as the dead lady—I’m here as a powerful priest.”
“I don’t see the difference. You’re still you, my lady.”
“That’s exactly my point. How could I have known the future where His Majesty, pitying me, would permit this memorial banquet? I only know the past I’ve lived through.”
I never knew what happened after my death—because I always returned to the same moment. That’s precisely why I needed to find out.
What kind of world unfolds after I die?
“What if they discover you’re impersonating a priest?”
“Do you really think anyone from the temple would show up here? A vague excuse will suffice.”
Pesoor gave me a puzzled look, as if unable to understand me, then fell silent, glancing warily around.
We entered the hall where the memorial banquet was being held, moving with practiced ease. As soon as we stepped inside, we naturally dispersed as if we’d planned it beforehand.
The banquet honoring my departure was splendid.
Yet instead of cheerful laughter, everyone was solemn, dressed not in finery but in dignified, muted attire.
‘What a pointless banquet.’
It was time to find the mad killer who’d murdered me countless times.
‘Let’s see who resents my death.’
I casually scanned the banquet hall.
First, I spotted my father—neatly groomed and impeccably dressed.
‘If he’s so heartbroken, why isn’t he skipping meals?’
I’d even hoped to see him broken, but of course not.
Father was perfectly fine despite losing me. I already knew he wasn’t the type to grieve my death.
I scoffed and turned my head. Then I saw the familiar figure of Delia. She wore a black dress, but wrapped around her waist was a pink rose ribbon.
Appearing beautiful seemed more important to her than mourning. Maybe she even wanted to stand out the most here.
‘Doesn’t anyone around her tell her otherwise?’
Until now, it had always been my role to inform her of things—but since I wasn’t doing it anymore, perhaps no one would.
Beside Delia stood Detor, clinging to her as if unable to escape his sorrow.
To outsiders, it might look like he was mourning his dead fiancée and seeking comfort in his closest friend Delia…
‘Do they really need to be so affectionate even at my memorial banquet?’
To me, it just looked like he was shamelessly pawing at Delia’s waist.
My suicide note had clearly asked them to widely announce my blessing for their happiness. Since their story hadn’t spread yet, Father must still be too overwhelmed preparing the banquet.
How absurd—busy preparing a banquet even after my death. My esteemed father, always so occupied.
‘Everyone needs to learn quickly that those two cheated on me while I was dying.’
Near them stood Crown Prince Belial, looking the most sorrowful of all at my memorial banquet.
His pained efforts to suppress his tears were almost pitiful. Anyone might mistakenly think we’d shared a loving bond.
‘At least one person mourns me.’
Neither Detor nor even my own father wore such a genuinely grief-stricken expression.
Crown Prince Belial, unable to contain his sorrow, kept wiping his reddened eyes, fighting back tears.
‘A banquet to honor a dead person’s grudge, how absurd.’
I sneered. When I was alive and suffering from illness, not a single person cared.
What use is any of this after I’m dead?
“Hmph.”
Just then, a clear scoff sounded from beside me.
Startled, I touched my lips, fearing I’d laughed aloud—but my mouth remained stiff.
The sound had come from right next to me.
Hypnotized, I turned toward the source of the laughter.
“…Ah.”
Deep indigo hair instantly captured my attention. Bathed in the chandelier’s light, its mysterious hue shimmered like a gemstone—so beautiful I couldn’t look away.
Beneath it, perfectly arched eyebrows tilted upward, as if finding this ridiculous situation utterly unbearable.
Eyes as dark as absolute void—so deep they reminded me of wandering through the mountain that night, where not even moonlight could penetrate.
The man’s lips curled into a disdainful smirk.
“I’m not insulting the deceased, so please don’t glare at me like that.”
Noticing my gaze, the man spoke without turning, peeling off his blood-stained gloves.
“I just laughed because this whole farce is ridiculous. What’s the point of all this after death? They should’ve treated her well while she was alive, don’t you think?”
His once-white gloves bore distinct, splotchy bloodstains. Now that I looked closer, his uniform was also spattered with blood in several places.
“Oh, don’t misunderstand—it’s not human blood. It’s beast blood. I rushed here without time to change.”
He shoved the gloves carelessly into his pocket and pulled on a fresh pair of black ones.
The man echoed my exact thoughts, yet somehow seemed oddly angry.
“It’s just a shame she died like this.”
A stranger, furious over my death.
Unconsciously, my gaze dropped to his hands.
Enormous hands—far larger than mine.
Could those hands possibly be… the same ones that had stroked my head that day?
“Excuse me for a moment.”
I was still checking if his hands matched the madman’s when—
without warning, the large man’s hand suddenly reached toward me.
“…!”
My body instinctively jerked backward—a reflex born of wanting to escape death.
For some reason, I’d expected him to stroke my head just like the killer had.
But his hand didn’t reach for my head.
“May I take a flower? I didn’t prepare any to offer the deceased.”
His hand reached not for me, but for the flower basket I held. I nodded absentmindedly, and he plucked a single lily before passing by me lightly.
A crisp citrus scent lingered in his wake, imprinting his presence.
Simultaneously, the brooch pinned to his chest glinted.
‘…That’s…’
I swallowed hard, staring at his broad back. As his footsteps receded, the heavy sound echoed in my ears.
A sharp, clear bass note—like a needle piercing my eardrum.
The day of the carriage accident flashed before my eyes like a mirage.
Was this imagination… or…?
‘…The Violentus family.’
Laches Violentus.
The very man who, bound to the North, had never appeared at any previous gatherings of unity—was now attending my memorial banquet.
Under the hollow pretense of mourning my death.
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
_____
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This doesn’t add up because the man that killed her clearly knew who she was for a while
Literally why???? Is her head not working properly after dying so many times?
SO WHY WOULD HE TRY TO KILL YOU MAMA????? ME NO UNDERSTAND