Broadcasting My Death-Flags in Real Time

That was an utterly surreal experience.

I had seen people's insides being torn apart before—organs spilling out, blood flowing like a river.

But only in movies.

No matter how realistic it seemed, in the end, it was all just clever camera work and CGI.

What I was facing now, however, was real.

I could do nothing but stand frozen as the girl, still dressed in black, staggered inside and collapsed beside me.

A trail of blood stretched behind her, leading all the way to the mansion's outer door.

Where had she come from? Who did this? Why?

I needed to call for help. The culprit had to be close by.

Grab!

But before I could move, my hand was seized.

My sister… using the last of her strength, she held me back. "Stay still. They… will know." She pressed her blood-covered fingers to her lips.

'They'? 

Who does she mean—

Wait. No. Don't tell me. "The one who did this… is one of our own family members?"

"Close the door."

I obeyed without hesitation, then crouched beside her, straining to hear her words while forcing myself not to look at the terrible wound tearing through her body.

"You … made … a huge mistake." She cupped my cheek, her eyes swirling with pain, disgust, and bitterness. "I told you… I was… watching over them all this time."

I swallowed hard. "Are you saying … the ones responsible weren't on the list?"

My sister let out a weak, bitter chuckle before coughing up blood. "Oh, my dear brother … You're… too… naive."

Her eyes grew dim, and her breathing became ragged.

She parted her lips, her next words barely a whisper.

"Silvaseta is the key."

Then, her eyelids fell shut, and the life in her faded away.

My hands trembled as I held her. Carefully, I laid her down and checked her pulse.

Nothing.

I pressed my ear against her chest, desperate to catch even the faintest heartbeat.

Silence.

I stumbled back, covering my mouth.

She's gone.

The realization sent a sickening wave through me.

I felt bile rising and rushed toward the door—then froze.

What if the killer was still out there?

What if my relatives, who responsible for this sick move, were already standing outside my office door, waiting to strike me down next?

Death lurks behind every path you take.

The warning interface blinked mockingly before my eyes.

The urge to vomit vanished as I collapsed onto the floor.

What now?

Should I escape through the window? Call the servants to protect me and arrest my relatives?

But… could I even trust my servant?

People could be bought. What if my relatives had already paid them more than I ever could?

Damn it.

What the hell is this?

Shouldn't I be living the thrilling life of a professor, impressing students and dating gorgeous colleagues?

How did I end up staring death in the face instead?

I barely slept that night.

Or rather, I tried to stay awake.

But near dawn, exhaustion caught up with me, and I let my guard down.

A mistake I should never have made.

Because when I opened my eyes, I saw them.

Several figures standing in the dim light.

Silhouettes I knew all too well.

Liam and Fred.

I jolted upright, instantly on edge.

"Oh, hey, hey. Relax, Young Master. You okay?" Liam frowned at my tense reaction.

"Looks like our Ethan here found a way to have some fun on his own." Fred, standing near the small bar, lifted a half-empty bottle of alcohol with a smirk.

I glanced between them, my mind racing.

As last night's events resurfaced in my memory, my wariness intensified. "You … how did you get in here?"

"Ah, apologies, Young Master. The servants came to wake you for breakfast, but when they found your room empty, we assumed you were still here."

No. That wasn't what I meant.

How was I still here?

If they had entered this room, they would have found my sister's lifeless body. If they were behind this, they should have silenced me too.

And yet… I was still alive.

Was this some kind of psychological game?

No—something was off.

I frantically scanned the room. Where is…

It was gone.

My sister's body. The bloodstains. Everything.

I turned to Liam and Fred, clenching my teeth.

Did they… clean it up while I was asleep?

"Looking for something, Young Master?" Liam asked, his tone unreadable.

These men … were far more cunning than I had given them credit for.

*#*

I sat through breakfast in silence, surrounded by my remaining relatives.

Since I had never been much of a talker, no one questioned it—except for Liam, of course.

I had suspected him from the beginning. He was too perfect.

If we had been a normal family without old-money roots, his friendliness might have been genuine.

But the Hudfords were nobility, and every move he made was calculated.

Still, I had no solid proof to confirm my suspicions.

Which meant I had to investigate on my own.

After breakfast, my relatives took turns bidding me farewell.

Liam was the last. He pulled me into a firm embrace. "Call me if anything happens."

So, he wanted me to rely on him?

I simply smiled and patted his back. "Thank you."

Liam nodded and turned to his family, who were waiting nearby.

He lifted his youngest daughter—an eight-year-old—into his arms while holding hands with his other daughter, who looked around sixteen.

The right age to enroll at the Academy.

It would be ironic if she ended up as my student while I secretly suspected her father of treason.

Speaking of her, Liam's daughter was staring at me. Unblinking.

It was the kind of cold, piercing gaze that sent shivers down my spine.

I forced myself to remain composed, raising a hand in farewell. "Safe travels."

Liam's car was the last to leave. Now, the mansion's parking lot was empty.

Good.

It was time to put my plan into action.

My enemies weren't part of Crimson Butterfly's database. They were unpredictable elements I had never encountered before.

Even with Ethan's magic, I might not be able to stand against them.

I needed something bigger.

Something more unpredictable.

Something far more dangerous.