"Rem... Rem is...!"
In the Roswaal Manor gardens, the real-world Ram watched the screen, her fists white-knuckled. A violent, localized gale erupted around her, invisible blades of wind slicing through the air. "It was him! It had to be that Ayanokoji! I'll kill him before he can ever get near Rem!"
"Calm yourself, Ram," Roswaal said, his voice a smooth, theatrical drawl as he tapped his teacup.
"My apologies, Master." Ram bowed, though her eyes remained burning coals of hatred.
"The screen shows he did nothing," Roswaal noted, a thin smile playing on his lips. "If anything, I'm quite curious to see how our 'guest' solves a puzzle that has left even me without a lead~"
Inside the Screen: The Room of Mourning
Ayanokoji looked at the sobbing Ram and felt a flicker of genuine confusion.
To him, this display of grief was illogical. No amount of screaming or weeping could reverse a biological shutdown. It was merely an emotional discharge—loud, messy, and fundamentally useless.
The room was heavy with sorrow. Emilia stood with her head bowed, her breath hitching. Beatrice stared at the bed with a grim, tight-lipped expression. Even Felt and Old Man Rom looked shaken.
Ayanokoji felt nothing.
To him, Rem's death had zero emotional impact. It was simply that a tool he hadn't yet fully utilized had been damaged beyond repair. He considered the possibility of "Return by Death"—if he died, could he save her?
He dismissed the thought instantly. He didn't know the "Save Point." He didn't know if there was a limit to the revives. Relying on death was the hallmark of a gambler, and Ayanokoji only played when the odds were absolute. Rem wasn't worth the risk of a permanent "Game Over."
"It's because of you! All of you!" Ram turned her fury on Ayanokoji, Felt, and Rom. "Rem was fine until you people arrived!"
"We didn't do anything! We were here all day!" Felt argued, her voice rising in panic.
"Your anger is misplaced," Ayanokoji said, his voice a chilling baseline. "I did not kill Rem."
"You went to the village with her! You were the last one with her!" Ram's face was distorted by grief. She stared into his eyes, searching for a flicker of guilt, fear, or even malice.
She found a void. Ayanokoji's face was a blank slate, as if Rem's corpse were just a piece of furniture. This lack of humanity only fueled Ram's hatred.
"Wailing will not bring her back," Ayanokoji added. And from her reaction, she wasn't monitoring us in the village. Her 'Clairvoyance' has limits.
"Kiyotaka..." Emilia whispered, tugging his sleeve. She wanted him to stop "adding fuel to the fire," but Ayanokoji had no intention of comforting anyone. He needed to identify the killer before they struck again.
Emotions were an obstacle to survival.
"Lia, he's right," Puck said, floating near Ayanokoji. "Being sad won't find the culprit."
"You monster!" Ram began, but Ayanokoji cut her off.
"Instead of pointing fingers without evidence, we should analyze the cause of death. Information is the only thing that matters now."
"Though his bedside manner is... lacking, Lord Kiyotaka is correct," Roswaal finally spoke, his voice like a stage performer's. "Rem died of exhaustion. Her life force was siphoned away until the flame simply went out. It was a Curse."
"A Curse?" Ayanokoji looked at Beatrice. "Explain the mechanics."
"A Curse requires a 'Trigger,'" Beatrice said, her tone unusually serious. "A shaman must make physical contact with the target to plant the technique. Once activated, distance is irrelevant. The target dies."
"Physical contact?" Ayanokoji's eyes narrowed. Everyone in the house had touched Rem at some point. "Does it require mana?"
"Yes, though a very small amount."
"Then I am excluded," Ayanokoji said, looking at Ram. "Puck can testify that I have zero control over my 'Gate.' I cannot perform a surgical strike like a Curse."
"I can confirm that!" Puck raised a paw. "He's a mana-leaking mess."
Ram looked at him, her tears still falling, but her voice lost some of its edge. "Even if it wasn't you... you were there. You must know something!"
"Elsa is still in the cellar, restrained," Emilia added. "The traps are untouched. It wasn't her."
"Then the variable is external," Ayanokoji concluded.
Roswaal stepped forward. "Lord Kiyotaka, Rem was my precious maid. If you have any leads, I beg you to share them." Emilia joined in with a pleading look. They had seen his brilliance in the capital; he was their only hope.
"A Curse requires contact," Ayanokoji mused, rubbing his chin. "Yesterday, Rem and I walked to the village and back. We met no one on the road. Excluding the manor staff, the only window for contact was in the village."
Why her and not me? he wondered. Is the Shaman part of the Assassination Guild? Why target a maid instead of Emilia?
Ayanokoji didn't care about "justice" or "revenge." He cared that someone had interfered with his safe haven. If the Shaman wasn't stopped, they might hit Emilia next—and Emilia was his "meal ticket" in this world.
"The village?" Ram stepped forward, grabbing Ayanokoji's sleeve. Her eyes were red and desperate. "Please... help me. Help me find who did this!"
Ayanokoji looked down at the tears staining his shirt.
"As a supporter of Emilia, Rem was technically on my side. I won't ignore an attack on my faction," he said.
It was a lie. He wasn't helping for "the faction." He was helping because an unidentified threat was a risk to his own life. By solving this, he would eliminate a predator and gain the absolute trust of the Roswaal camp—turning a hostile Ram into a debt-ridden pawn.
"Let's go to the village," Ayanokoji said. "The Shaman made a mistake. They left a witness alive."