Chapter 145
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Carynne retrieved the gun once more and put a coat on herself. Then, she stood up straight. It’s still before the break of dawn. And she still needed to be on the move. The sooner she took action, the better. The corridors were empty at this time of the day.
“So… First, the study.”
Carynne recalled the notebook she had caught sight of in the study that time the fire broke out in the mansion. It was stuck between books that had the same spines (likely volumes of an encyclopedia), and so the notebook looked clearly out of place.
She stared at the door of the study.
“…Fuck’s sake.”
It was still locked. Carynne remembered that the key was located at Dullan’s room, but at this point in the timeline, Dullan hadn’t even arrived yet.
Then, her father should have the key. Or at the very least, Helen, the housekeeper, should have a spare.
“……”
The time now was before the break of dawn. She would have to wait. No one else was awake yet.
Carynne sighed and turned around. As expected, she had been too hasty. Wasn’t it just recently that Carynne killed Nancy? No, the previous time, Nancy killed Carynne.
One death was enough for tonight. It wouldn’t hurt to try again tomorrow.
“Ehh…”
Yeah, no. She didn’t want to wait. If anything were to go wrong, Carynne knew that she could just die right away. There was no need for her to hesitate. It’s entirely probable that one’s patience would grow ever so thin as one grew older.
Click.
Carynne took out the gun. She pointed it at the doorknob and, in her mind, counted down. Gotta get this over with in one shot.
Bang!
She felt the brunt of the recoil on her shoulders. Staggering, she tried to keep herself steady. Then, she rubbed her tingling hands.
“…Wow.”
Carynne got startled by the too-loud echoes that were now wracking the hallways. The noise was much too big. Someone must have heard that.
Even so, no one seemed to be coming even after she looked around. Indeed, even though she had repeated this same part of her life over and over, not one single person was awake at this time. It seemed as if this witching hour of this particular day was just a time that people were especially deep asleep.
Actually, it didn’t matter to her now. Carynne examined the doorknob. If it’s still not broken after everything, she’d definitely get mad.
“…Phew.”
Fortunately, the latch was broken. Carynne let out a sigh. She’s always been a good shot throughout the years, shooting those people well enough. Carynne picked up the fallen piece of the knob. It’s not completely broken, but it’s broken enough that she could open the door.
Breaking a doorknob seemed to be much more difficult than shooting a person to death. Should she sincerely practice shooting next time? While next to Sir Raymond. She’s sure that he’d teach her well.
Alright. She decided—she would learn how to shoot properly.
What would he say once she’d tell him that she wanted to learn how to shoot? Are you going to kill someone?
“Where was it again…”
Carynne walked inside. She took a lamp and held it up. It was dark in the study. She straightened her back.
And, inside that dark study, she saw Catherine’s portrait.
“Hi, Mom.”
Carynne looked up once, then went further inside. Eventually, she would die just like Catherine. Since there was a change, there must be an end.
“……”
It was definitely high up, enough that she’d need to use a ladder. So, while thinking of a different version of this study that was being engulfed by flames, Carynne firmly gripped the ladder and climbed. She had to climb slowly because she was still holding the lamp with one hand.
She suddenly got nervous for no reason. Where was it? What if one of the changes this time was that it did not exist here?
“Ah, it’s here.”
So Carynne’s regression did not mean that certain things would be lost. She reached towards the notebook and picked it up.
It was clearly distinct from the books of a similar design that were around it. It had a black leather cover, yet had no indications of a title or anything outwardly.
Carynne remained standing on the ladder as she opened the notebook. It was a bit uncomfortable to flip through it because she could use only one hand.
“……”
Someone’s handwriting filled the notebook. Fortunately, it wasn’t just an empty journal.
Carynne slowly went through the pages.
[ I’m pregnant. Now, the end. ]
“……”
Pregnant. The end.
It seemed like Carynne’s theory was correct.
She closed her eyes once, then opened them again. No. Don’t think about it yet.
Her mother got pregnant and passed on the curse of regression to her, it seemed. But perhaps there’s another reason. Really, maybe there’s some place she could go to break the curse, or some item she needed to retrieve to act as a spark.
Carynne skipped to the last few pages.
[ I’ve lost my appetite. I’m craving for fruits. ]
It’s just a mundane account of a woman’s pregnancy. Seeing as there’s nothing of note, Carynne let out a groan. She flipped through the pages again.
Flutter.
[ Crown Prince Gueuze is here again. That damn son of a bitch. Just die. ]
Flutter.
“……”
Nothing.
Carynne flipped through the pages over and over. Then, she arrived at the last page of the notebook.
Still nothing.
“…Ugh, seriously!”
Carynne threw the diary to the floor. It had nothing. Catherine was quite obviously such a lazy woman. She pertained to what truly mattered only in those few pages in the beginning, then nothing. Why did she even keep a diary.
“Mom!”
Carynne grumbled and indignantly descended the ladder. The diary she had been looking forward to with such excitement ended up having nothing.
“You’re too much, ugh!”
Glaring at the haphazardly thrown diary, she stomped her feet on the ground. What a disappointment. When the thing caught her eye when the fire had broken out, she thought it would be something significant, but it turned out to be useless.
“Shi…”
Picking up the diary from the floor, she began to stab at it anywhere and everywhere. She suppressed the urge to rip it apart. And, with an especially sour pout on her lips, she gave the stink eye Catherine’s portrait, hanging high up in one wall of the study.
“You’re just too much.”
Shouldn’t her mother have at least tried to help her or at least tried to live longer for this purpose? Catherine treaded a life that was no different than Carynne’s, and so it was only natural to expect that she’d keep records that were as detailed as possible.
But there’s nothing of the sort. As Carynne’s mother—as Carynne’s senior of sorts in life—there’s just no sincerity from Catherine at all.
Carynne exploded in anger. If it was her, she wouldn’t have done that. If it was her, she’d have done her best to make an effort.
“…If it were me…”
But it didn’t take long for Carynne to remember that she gave up on keeping a diary and writing on it regularly. If she were to die as soon as she’d give birth to a daughter, her daughter would likewise curse at her for being indolent, too.
“No, but I’m in a different situation…”
As she was right now, it’s a meaningless task to keep a record since she died each and every year anyway. No traces would be left, and the only thing that came with her was her coin.
Carynne defended herself just like that. She was a little embarrassed, but she still couldn’t stand that her fury was being tempered.
“……”
Even so, getting angry at a portrait still took a lot of energy from her.
She slumped to the floor. It must be teeming with dust, but it didn’t bother her. She lay down on the ground completely. It was so dark that she couldn’t completely see the portrait.
While lying down, she thought. What would be the best move? What should she do now?
“……”
Still as ever, the house remained serene despite the gunshot that rang out earlier. Perhaps because today was just meant to be that kind of day.
After all, it was the first day where nothing much would change.
The diary was a dead end. There’s nothing substantial written in it.
So, what should she do now?
“…Of course.”
Carynne got up. At the recollection that something had changed, she got so excited that she seemed positively buzzing.
“Dullan.”
“Now, the real solace will start.”
During her final moments in that iteration, Carynne thought, Maybe I can die for good this time. But that wasn’t the case. The only thing that changed was the date of her death. Something changed, yes, but it could hardly be called comfort, consolation or solace.
“What is it supposed to mean anyway?”
Carynne fiddled with her gun. She had witnessed this very mansion burned down to embers, yet it now stood intact once more. That’s why, as soon as she had fulfilled her promise to Nancy, she had set off to find the diary—to no avail.
She didn’t care about solace or whatever. This was the first day, and Dullan hadn’t even entered the mansion yet.
She had to think about what else she could do. Since the diary proved to be useless, then…
“Me too though, seriously…”
Though there were no records, there was one person she had in mind. She reloaded the gun. She would have to get information from someone else.
Actually, she should have just done this from the very beginning…
Carynne was so electrified that she became self-aware of just how chaotic her actions were. But that’s alright. She did not have to be conscious about any mistakes she might make—after all, she would not need to stay for a long time.
If she were to make a mistake, all she had to do was shoot a bullet through her head and kill herself.
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Carynne retrieved the gun once more and put a coat on herself. Then, she stood up straight. It’s still before the break of dawn. And she still needed to be on the move. The sooner she took action, the better. The corridors were empty at this time of the day.
“So… First, the study.”
Carynne recalled the notebook she had caught sight of in the study that time the fire broke out in the mansion. It was stuck between books that had the same spines (likely volumes of an encyclopedia), and so the notebook looked clearly out of place.
She stared at the door of the study.
“…Fuck’s sake.”
It was still locked. Carynne remembered that the key was located at Dullan’s room, but at this point in the timeline, Dullan hadn’t even arrived yet.
Then, her father should have the key. Or at the very least, Helen, the housekeeper, should have a spare.
“……”
The time now was before the break of dawn. She would have to wait. No one else was awake yet.
Carynne sighed and turned around. As expected, she had been too hasty. Wasn’t it just recently that Carynne killed Nancy? No, the previous time, Nancy killed Carynne.
One death was enough for tonight. It wouldn’t hurt to try again tomorrow.
“Ehh…”
Yeah, no. She didn’t want to wait. If anything were to go wrong, Carynne knew that she could just die right away. There was no need for her to hesitate. It’s entirely probable that one’s patience would grow ever so thin as one grew older.
Click.
Carynne took out the gun. She pointed it at the doorknob and, in her mind, counted down. Gotta get this over with in one shot.
Bang!
She felt the brunt of the recoil on her shoulders. Staggering, she tried to keep herself steady. Then, she rubbed her tingling hands.
“…Wow.”
Carynne got startled by the too-loud echoes that were now wracking the hallways. The noise was much too big. Someone must have heard that.
Even so, no one seemed to be coming even after she looked around. Indeed, even though she had repeated this same part of her life over and over, not one single person was awake at this time. It seemed as if this witching hour of this particular day was just a time that people were especially deep asleep.
Actually, it didn’t matter to her now. Carynne examined the doorknob. If it’s still not broken after everything, she’d definitely get mad.
“…Phew.”
Fortunately, the latch was broken. Carynne let out a sigh. She’s always been a good shot throughout the years, shooting those people well enough. Carynne picked up the fallen piece of the knob. It’s not completely broken, but it’s broken enough that she could open the door.
Breaking a doorknob seemed to be much more difficult than shooting a person to death. Should she sincerely practice shooting next time? While next to Sir Raymond. She’s sure that he’d teach her well.
Alright. She decided—she would learn how to shoot properly.
What would he say once she’d tell him that she wanted to learn how to shoot? Are you going to kill someone?
“Where was it again…”
Carynne walked inside. She took a lamp and held it up. It was dark in the study. She straightened her back.
And, inside that dark study, she saw Catherine’s portrait.
“Hi, Mom.”
Carynne looked up once, then went further inside. Eventually, she would die just like Catherine. Since there was a change, there must be an end.
“……”
It was definitely high up, enough that she’d need to use a ladder. So, while thinking of a different version of this study that was being engulfed by flames, Carynne firmly gripped the ladder and climbed. She had to climb slowly because she was still holding the lamp with one hand.
She suddenly got nervous for no reason. Where was it? What if one of the changes this time was that it did not exist here?
“Ah, it’s here.”
So Carynne’s regression did not mean that certain things would be lost. She reached towards the notebook and picked it up.
It was clearly distinct from the books of a similar design that were around it. It had a black leather cover, yet had no indications of a title or anything outwardly.
Carynne remained standing on the ladder as she opened the notebook. It was a bit uncomfortable to flip through it because she could use only one hand.
“……”
Someone’s handwriting filled the notebook. Fortunately, it wasn’t just an empty journal.
Carynne slowly went through the pages.
[ I’m pregnant. Now, the end. ]
“……”
Pregnant. The end.
It seemed like Carynne’s theory was correct.
She closed her eyes once, then opened them again. No. Don’t think about it yet.
Her mother got pregnant and passed on the curse of regression to her, it seemed. But perhaps there’s another reason. Really, maybe there’s some place she could go to break the curse, or some item she needed to retrieve to act as a spark.
Carynne skipped to the last few pages.
[ I’ve lost my appetite. I’m craving for fruits. ]
It’s just a mundane account of a woman’s pregnancy. Seeing as there’s nothing of note, Carynne let out a groan. She flipped through the pages again.
Flutter.
[ Crown Prince Gueuze is here again. That damn son of a bitch. Just die. ]
Flutter.
“……”
Nothing.
Carynne flipped through the pages over and over. Then, she arrived at the last page of the notebook.
Still nothing.
“…Ugh, seriously!”
Carynne threw the diary to the floor. It had nothing. Catherine was quite obviously such a lazy woman. She pertained to what truly mattered only in those few pages in the beginning, then nothing. Why did she even keep a diary.
“Mom!”
Carynne grumbled and indignantly descended the ladder. The diary she had been looking forward to with such excitement ended up having nothing.
“You’re too much, ugh!”
Glaring at the haphazardly thrown diary, she stomped her feet on the ground. What a disappointment. When the thing caught her eye when the fire had broken out, she thought it would be something significant, but it turned out to be useless.
“Shi…”
Picking up the diary from the floor, she began to stab at it anywhere and everywhere. She suppressed the urge to rip it apart. And, with an especially sour pout on her lips, she gave the stink eye Catherine’s portrait, hanging high up in one wall of the study.
“You’re just too much.”
Shouldn’t her mother have at least tried to help her or at least tried to live longer for this purpose? Catherine treaded a life that was no different than Carynne’s, and so it was only natural to expect that she’d keep records that were as detailed as possible.
But there’s nothing of the sort. As Carynne’s mother—as Carynne’s senior of sorts in life—there’s just no sincerity from Catherine at all.
Carynne exploded in anger. If it was her, she wouldn’t have done that. If it was her, she’d have done her best to make an effort.
“…If it were me…”
But it didn’t take long for Carynne to remember that she gave up on keeping a diary and writing on it regularly. If she were to die as soon as she’d give birth to a daughter, her daughter would likewise curse at her for being indolent, too.
“No, but I’m in a different situation…”
As she was right now, it’s a meaningless task to keep a record since she died each and every year anyway. No traces would be left, and the only thing that came with her was her coin.
Carynne defended herself just like that. She was a little embarrassed, but she still couldn’t stand that her fury was being tempered.
“……”
Even so, getting angry at a portrait still took a lot of energy from her.
She slumped to the floor. It must be teeming with dust, but it didn’t bother her. She lay down on the ground completely. It was so dark that she couldn’t completely see the portrait.
While lying down, she thought. What would be the best move? What should she do now?
“……”
Still as ever, the house remained serene despite the gunshot that rang out earlier. Perhaps because today was just meant to be that kind of day.
After all, it was the first day where nothing much would change.
The diary was a dead end. There’s nothing substantial written in it.
So, what should she do now?
“…Of course.”
Carynne got up. At the recollection that something had changed, she got so excited that she seemed positively buzzing.
“Dullan.”
“Now, the real solace will start.”
During her final moments in that iteration, Carynne thought, Maybe I can die for good this time. But that wasn’t the case. The only thing that changed was the date of her death. Something changed, yes, but it could hardly be called comfort, consolation or solace.
“What is it supposed to mean anyway?”
Carynne fiddled with her gun. She had witnessed this very mansion burned down to embers, yet it now stood intact once more. That’s why, as soon as she had fulfilled her promise to Nancy, she had set off to find the diary—to no avail.
She didn’t care about solace or whatever. This was the first day, and Dullan hadn’t even entered the mansion yet.
She had to think about what else she could do. Since the diary proved to be useless, then…
“Me too though, seriously…”
Though there were no records, there was one person she had in mind. She reloaded the gun. She would have to get information from someone else.
Actually, she should have just done this from the very beginning…
Carynne was so electrified that she became self-aware of just how chaotic her actions were. But that’s alright. She did not have to be conscious about any mistakes she might make—after all, she would not need to stay for a long time.
If she were to make a mistake, all she had to do was shoot a bullet through her head and kill herself.
Carynne retrieved the gun once more and put a coat on herself. Then, she stood up straight. It's still before the break of dawn. And she still needed to be on the move. The sooner she took action, the better. The corridors were empty at this time of the day.So First, the study.Carynne recalled the notebook she had caught sight of in the study that time the fire broke out in the mansion. It was stuck between books that had the same spines likely volumes of an encyclopedia, and so the notebook looked clearly out of place.She stared at the door of the study.Fuck's sake.It was still locked. Carynne remembered that the key was located at Dullan's room, but at this point in the timeline, Dullan hadn't even arrived yet.Then, her father should have the key. Or at the very least, Helen, the housekeeper, should have a spare.The time now was before the break of dawn. She would have to wait. No one else was awake yet.Carynne sighed and turned around. As expected, she had been too hasty. Wasn't it just recently that Carynne killed Nancy? No, the previous time, Nancy killed Carynne.One death was enough for tonight. It wouldn't hurt to try again tomorrow.EhhYeah, no. She didn't want to wait. If anything were to go wrong, Carynne knew that she could just die right away. There was no need for her to hesitate. It's entirely probable that one's patience would grow ever so thin as one grew older.Click.Carynne took out the gun. She pointed it at the doorknob and, in her mind, counted down. Gotta get this over with in one shot.Bang!She felt the brunt of the recoil on her shoulders. Staggering, she tried to keep herself steady. Then, she rubbed her tingling hands.Wow.Carynne got startled by the too-loud echoes that were now wracking the hallways. The noise was much too big. Someone must have heard that.Even so, no one seemed to be coming even after she looked around. Indeed, even though she had repeated this same part of her life over and over, not one single person was awake at this time. It seemed as if this witching hour of this particular day was just a time that people were especially deep asleep.Actually, it didn't matter to her now. Carynne examined the doorknob. If it's still not broken after everything, she'd definitely get mad.Phew.Fortunately, the latch was broken. Carynne let out a sigh. She's always been a good shot throughout the years, shooting those people well enough. Carynne picked up the fallen piece of the knob. It's not completely broken, but it's broken enough that she could open the door.Breaking a doorknob seemed to be much more difficult than shooting a person to death. Should she sincerely practice shooting next time? While next to Sir Raymond. She's sure that he'd teach her well.Alright. She decidedshe would learn how to shoot properly.What would he say once she'd tell him that she wanted to learn how to shoot?Are you going to kill someone?Where was it againCarynne walked inside. She took a lamp and held it up. It was dark in the study. She straightened her back.And, inside that dark study, she saw Catherine's portrait.Hi, Mom.Carynne looked up once, then went further inside. Eventually, she would die just like Catherine. Since there was a change, theremustbe an end.It was definitely high up, enough that she'd need to use a ladder. So, while thinking of a different version of this study that was being engulfed by flames, Carynne firmly gripped the ladder and climbed. She had to climb slowly because she was still holding the lamp with one hand.She suddenly got nervous for no reason. Where was it? What if one of the changes this time was that it did not exist here?Ah, it's here.So Carynne's regression did not mean that certain things would be lost. She reached towards the notebook and picked it up.It was clearly distinct from the books of a similar design that were around it. It had a black leather cover, yet had no indications of a title or anything outwardly.Carynne remained standing on the ladder as she opened the notebook. It was a bit uncomfortable to flip through it because she could use only one hand.Someone's handwriting filled the notebook. Fortunately, it wasn't just an empty journal.Carynne slowly went through the pages. I'm pregnant. Now, the end. Pregnant. The end.It seemed like Carynne's theory was correct.She closed her eyes once, then opened them again. No. Don't think about it yet.Her mother got pregnant and passed on the curse of regression to her, it seemed. But perhaps there's another reason. Really, maybe there's some place she could go to break the curse, or some item she needed to retrieve to act as a spark.Carynne skipped to the last few pages. I've lost my appetite. I'm craving for fruits. It's just a mundane account of a woman's pregnancy. Seeing as there's nothing of note, Carynne let out a groan. She flipped through the pages again.Flutter. Crown Prince Gueuze is here again. That damn son of a bitch. Just die. Flutter.Nothing.Carynne flipped through the pages over and over. Then, she arrived at the last page of the notebook.Still nothing.Ugh, seriously!Carynne threw the diary to the floor. It had nothing. Catherine was quite obviously such a lazy woman. She pertained to what truly mattered only in those few pages in the beginning, thennothing. Why did she even keep a diary.Mom!Carynne grumbled and indignantly descended the ladder. The diary she had been looking forward to with such excitement ended up havingnothing.You're too much, ugh!Glaring at the haphazardly thrown diary, she stomped her feet on the ground. What a disappointment. When the thing caught her eye when the fire had broken out, she thought it would be something significant, but it turned out to be useless.ShiPicking up the diary from the floor, she began to stab at it anywhere and everywhere. She suppressed the urge to rip it apart. And, with an especially sour pout on her lips, she gave the stink eye Catherine's portrait, hanging high up in one wall of the study.You're just too much.Shouldn't her mother have at least tried to help her or at least tried to live longer for this purpose? Catherine treaded a life that was no different than Carynne's, and so it was only natural to expect that she'd keep records that were as detailed as possible.But there's nothing of the sort. As Carynne's motheras Carynne's senior of sorts in lifethere's just no sincerity from Catherine at all.Carynne exploded in anger. If it was her, she wouldn't have done that. If it was her, she'd have done her best to make an effort.If it were meBut it didn't take long for Carynne to remember that she gave up on keeping a diary and writing on it regularly. If she were to die as soon as she'd give birth to a daughter, her daughter would likewise curse at her for being indolent, too.No, but I'm in a different situationAs she was right now, it's a meaningless task to keep a record since she died each and every year anyway. No traces would be left, and the only thing that came with her was her coin.Carynne defended herself just like that. She was a little embarrassed, but she still couldn't stand that her fury was being tempered.Even so, getting angry at a portrait still took a lot of energy from her.She slumped to the floor. It must be teeming with dust, but it didn't bother her. She lay down on the ground completely. It was so dark that she couldn't completely see the portrait.While lying down, she thought. What would be the best move? What should she do now?Still as ever, the house remained serene despite the gunshot that rang out earlier. Perhaps because today was just meant to be that kind of day.After all, it was the first day where nothing much would change.The diary was a dead end. There's nothing substantial written in it.So, what should she do now?Of course.Carynne got up. At the recollection that something had changed, she got so excited that she seemed positively buzzing.Dullan.Now, the real solace will start.During her final moments in that iteration, Carynne thought,Maybe I can die for good this time.But that wasn't the case. The only thing that changed was the date of her death. Something changed, yes, but it could hardly be called comfort, consolation or solace.What is it supposed to mean anyway?Carynne fiddled with her gun. She had witnessed this very mansion burned down to embers, yet it now stood intact once more. That's why, as soon as she had fulfilled her promise to Nancy, she had set off to find the diaryto no avail.She didn't care about solace or whatever. This was the first day, and Dullan hadn't even entered the mansion yet.She had to think about what else she could do. Since the diary proved to be useless, thenMe too though, seriouslyThough there were no records, there was one person she had in mind. She reloaded the gun. She would have to get information from someone else.Actually, she should have just done this from the very beginningCarynne was so electrified that she became self-aware of just how chaotic her actions were. But that's alright. She did not have to be conscious about any mistakes she might makeafter all, she would not need to stay for a long time.If she were to make a mistake, all she had to do was shoot a bullet through her head and kill herself.
