Lathel couldn't quite process what Lucia had just said.
Was that... supposed to be a compliment?
Lucia smiled. "Even now, you still care about Catrina. You really are a good man."
Lathel stayed silent. Every time he talked to these so-called NPCs, he felt his IQ drop a few points.
He decided it was time to head back to the castle.
The plot for today had already been completely wrecked by these two women—what else could he even do?
"Wait!" Lucia grabbed his wrist, pressing a small wooden box into his hand. "Take this... it's yours."
"Heh?!" Lathel stiffened, cursing inwardly. 'Are you insane? That thing belongs to the protagonist, not me! What the hell am I supposed to do with it?'
Then a thought hit him.
'Hold on. If I take it and later slip it to Alex in secret... maybe the story will get back on track.'
That made sense. Even if the original script had him getting insulted and beaten, the key point of this event was that Alex obtained the pill inside that box.
'As long as I keep the key events intact, the plot should stabilize.'
He smiled faintly at Lucia. "Thank you. I promise, one day, I'll repay you."
He tucked the wooden box into his coat and turned to leave—he needed to hand that pill to Alex before anything else went wrong.
"Ack!"
Before he could take a step, Lucia pulled him back, tone turning sultry and possessive. "No need to wait for 'one day.' Do it now. Come with me—to Spring Garden."
"Ah... that... I..." Lathel stammered, scrambling for an excuse.
"No."
SMASH!
Catrina strode forward, instantly prying Lucia's hand off his wrist. She placed herself squarely between them, expression deadly serious.
"Lathel is not going with you."
Lucia frowned, eyes darkening as she looked past Catrina to where Lathel stood behind her, half-hidden.
"Catrina, I thought we were allies."
Catrina frowned right back. "We are. But I won't allow Lathel to go to that place. You'll only corrupt him."
"Huh! You're the one making him miserable." Lucia snorted in disdain. She straightened her back, her already generous chest rising even higher—like it might burst at any moment.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Catrina shot back, folding her arms beneath her own soft, ample curves and glaring right into Lucia's eyes.
Lucia sneered. "Are you blind? Can't you see how your daughter treats him? You've broken his heart and left him alone. Of course I'm the one who has to heal it."
Catrina's face paled. She bit her lower lip and whispered, "The mistake was mine. I'll make it up to him myself. I don't need your interference."
Lucia's smile turned mocking. "Make it up? And how exactly will you do that? You don't even have your own freedom right now. What can you possibly do to protect him?"
At those words, Catrina's shoulders slumped, and the light in her eyes dimmed.
Lucia laughed softly, tone half-amused, half-cruel. "Hahaha... Catrina, we may be allies, but that doesn't mean I'll hand him over to you. In fact, if you really care about him... you should let him come with me. It would be better for him."
Catrina clenched her fists, eyes glistening with tears she refused to let fall.
Lathel's expression twisted in confusion.
He honestly had no idea what the two women were talking about anymore.
'Oy, System... are these NPCs bugged? What the hell are they even saying?'
System: [...]
[I refuse to speak with an idiot.]
'What did you just say?' Lathel's face darkened. He was about to argue when he suddenly noticed Catrina trembling.
He took a step closer. Her head was bowed, lips pressed tightly together. Her hands balled into fists as her shoulders shook. Tears streamed down her face like strings of pearls, falling to the ground and shattering silently.
For a long moment, Lathel could only stare. Even knowing she was just an NPC, his chest ached with an inexplicable heaviness.
He sighed softly and reached out, wanting to take her hand—but Lucia's voice cut in sharply.
"Lathel! She's not as good as you think she is."
He frowned, turning toward Lucia.
Her gaze met his, fierce yet oddly gentle. "Come with me, Lathel. I'll protect you. Always."
Lathel tilted his head, then—without hesitation—took Catrina's hand instead.
Catrina flinched, startled. She lifted her tear-streaked face, eyes still glistening.
"I'm sorry," Lathel said quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "But right now... Duchess Catrina needs me more."
Lucia blinked, surprised—then smiled, tone softening.
"Uhm. I understand. But be careful with her. If you ever run into trouble, come find me."
She winked playfully before turning and walking away, her figure soon disappearing into the crowd.
Lathel watched her go, but before he could gather his thoughts, he felt a soft hand squeeze his.
"Duchess Catrina, you..."
He tried to speak, but the look on her face—so fragile, so pitiful, like a lost puppy in the rain—stole the words from his tongue.
He sighed again. His mind went blank, every possible line of comfort suddenly gone.
All he could manage was, "Let me take you home."
Catrina bit her lip and nodded gently. "I'll do as you say."
…
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was thick with awkward silence.
They sat side by side. Catrina still held his hand tightly, refusing to let go.
Lathel didn't even know what to think anymore.
At least, he'd already slipped the wooden box into Alex's pocket and paid a few porters to carry the unconscious man back to Catrina's estate.
But now, his palm was slick with sweat, and he finally spoke up.
"Duchess Catrina, could you... maybe let go of my hand? I—"
Catrina suddenly looked up, eyes shimmering, expression heartbreakingly soft—like an abandoned puppy begging not to be left behind.
"Did I... do something wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?"
Lathel froze. Whatever he'd been about to say died in his throat.
He didn't understand. Why was she clinging to him like this?
After a moment of silent struggle, he forced out a reply.
"No! I just... my hands are sweaty. I'll get your hand dirty."
"I don't mind." Catrina's answer was immediate. "I can wipe it for you."
She pulled a handkerchief from her pouch and began gently wiping his hand before clasping it again—tighter this time.
Lathel: "..."
He had no words left.
Then, in a trembling voice, Catrina whispered, "I'm sorry, Lathel. Arina... she must have hurt you so many times. I... I just..."
"Ah." Lathel scratched his head with his free hand and sighed.
"Well... this is my fault, really. She's already married, yet I kept bothering her. So whatever she's done to me—I understand it."
He smiled faintly, trying to sound lighthearted. "But don't worry. From now on, I won't bother her again. I won't bother you either."
Catrina froze—then, suddenly, her grip on his hand tightened sharply.
"Ack!" Lathel winced, face twisting. 'Holy hell, does she even realize how strong she is?' He genuinely thought a few of his finger bones had just cracked.
Startled, Catrina quickly let go, but her eyes stayed fixed on him, full of panic.
"Lathel, are you... planning to leave? Or..."
"No." He exhaled, rubbing his sore hand. "I just realized I've caused too much trouble for you all. So I thought—"
"No!"
Catrina leaned forward abruptly, face so close to his that he flinched back in surprise.
"I've never found you troublesome, Lathel," she said softly, eyes shimmering. "On the contrary... I'm happy when you're here. Every day I see you, I feel... happy."
Her next words came out trembling, but clear:
"If Arina won't accept you, then... then you can pursue me instead."
Lathel: "..."
He froze, mouth hanging open, staring at her as his brain short-circuited.
Nothing worked anymore—logic, thought, speech—all gone. Just white noise.
Catrina's face was crimson, but she didn't take it back. Her eyes, glistening with hope, stayed locked on him.
After what felt like an eternity, Lathel finally stammered,
"Uh... I... Duchess Catrina, you... you..."
She bit her lip, bowed her head, and tears began to spill down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. Forget what I said... please."
She turned away, moving to the far side of the carriage, staring out the window.
Lathel couldn't see her face anymore, and for once, even he didn't know what to say. Silence swallowed them both.
[Master! Are you seriously going to just sit there?! She basically confessed to you! Don't you get what she means?!]
Lathel sighed and replied mentally, 'Of course I get it. But... she's Arina's mother—the woman destined for the male lead, Alex. How could I possibly compete for the hero's woman?'
'Even if I liked her... what's the point? She's just an NPC. Eventually, she'll end up with the protagonist, and the one who'll get hurt... will be me.'
He took another deep breath. He had to remind himself—he had a job to finish.
'Stick to the script. Complete the scenario. That's the only thing keeping me sane.'
'If I let myself get too attached to this world... I'll never be able to escape it.'
ZZZZT! ZZZZT!
Suddenly, a strange static sound—like an old TV glitching—pierced his ears. The noise made him wince in pain.
'System, what the hell is that sound?!'
The System sighed heavily. A mechanical tone followed:
[The crack in this world... has grown even larger.]
Lathel: "???"