The Villainous Noble Who Kept Rewinding After Death: The Story Somehow Changed When I Committed Suicide

Chapter 366




The Villainous Noble Who Kept Rewinding After Death: The Story Somehow Changed When I Committed Suicide

Chapter 349: The Beginning of Hell

“Ugh… where am I…?”

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an unfamiliar place, with stone floors, walls, and a stone ceiling. Looking around, I saw Kamael, Kushana, and several other children my age who were also unconscious and lying on the ground.

“Oh, so you’re the first to wake up. The records show… hmm, one day and three hours. You’ve got quite the resistance.”

“What are you… saying…?”

“Hmph. Looks like the drug is still in effect. Your speech is a bit slurred.”

Standing before me was Count Albani, looking down at me as if I were a laboratory animal, his monotone voice continuing without any change.

“Others will wake up soon enough. Until then, you can just lay there on the ground and wait.”

“Where is this…?”

“I’ll explain once everyone is awake. I don’t want to repeat myself. I’ll come back when the drugs wear off. Keep watching and recording the situation.”

With that, Count Albani said no more, leaving the room while assigning his subordinates to keep watch over us.

A few hours later, one by one, others began to wake up. True to his word, Count Albani returned, looking over us sprawled on the floor.

“Hmph. Two are still asleep. They’re too slow; they’re useless. Dispose of them.”

He ordered the guards watching us to move the two sleeping children into plain view and, without hesitation, raised a dagger.

“No way…”

I heard Kamael’s voice just as the guards plunged the dagger into the chests of the sleeping children, the blade sinking in smoothly.

“Guh…”

“Ugh…”

The children, stabbed through the heart, twitched slightly before blood flowed from their mouths and wounds, and soon they were dead without any fuss.

“Ah… ahh…”

Seeing the murder unfold right before our eyes, fearful cries escaped from the other children, but perhaps due to the lingering effects of the drug, we couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry, and especially, couldn’t run away.

“When the drugs are working, it’s so nice and quiet, even when someone is killed right in front of you. Now, let me explain where you are. As you surely know, my Albani Count House is a family that specializes in assassination. This facility has been used by my family for generations to train successors and assassins.”

“Succ… successor…?”

Someone murmured weakly, and Count Albani nodded slightly before continuing.

“That’s right. The Albani Count House is a bit unique. While raising a successor, even a biological child may die during the process. Therefore, along with my real children, we gather orphans like you, providing them the same education to become successors. My own father was once an orphan just like you.”

I see. Now it all made sense.

For the past three months since Count Albani took us in, I couldn’t understand why we were taken in or why we had to study, but this meant that from the moment we were taken in, the “successor training” he mentioned had already begun.

“From now on, you will acquire knowledge as assassins necessary to be successors, develop resistance to various poisons and drugs, and learn combat skills. The last one standing will inherit the name of the Albani Count House and become the successor. By the way, you have no right to refuse. I’ve given you a good life; you are not allowed to reject it now. And forget about escaping. This place is known only to a select few, and my subordinates are always watching. The moment you try to escape, you will be the first to die, so be prepared.”

What a selfish story.

They just came to our home, threatened us, and claimed they were taking us in while imposing their help on us.

Telling us we can’t escape or refuse because we lived the good life is arrogantly selfish and one-sided, yet everyone, including Count Albani watching us, acted as though it was completely natural, leaving us with no words to refute.

“Well then, training begins tomorrow, so you can rest here for today.”

With that last remark, Count Albani turned on his heel and left the room with his subordinates, leaving only us and the two corpses behind.

The days that followed were indescribably harsher than before. The comfortable life we had for three months only made this existence feel downright hellish.

Physical training in the forest surrounding the facility, fighting practice, and real combat training with weapons within the facility.

On top of that, necessary studies for when we became successors, plus irregularly poisoned meals.

In the beginning, some of the kids tried to escape from this lifestyle, but they would inevitably be caught the next day, lined up before us, and executed mercilessly right in front of our eyes.

Through terror and control, Count Albani and his men stripped us of rebellion, self-consciousness, and self-respect, trying to create obedient, emotional-less perfect successors.

In such circumstances, Kamael and I tried to encourage each other to maintain our sanity, living together as we did when it was just us.

But even then, keeping our sanity in this environment was an impossible task. Our minds were in a precarious state, like water ready to spill over at any moment; one small shock could break us entirely.

“Starting today, we’ll begin the next training, so anyone called should come with me. Harlan, Tarna…”

About two years into such a life, one day Count Albani summoned us.

“Last, but not least, Kamael. The eight named must come with me. The rest, continue your usual training.”

“Kamael.”

“Everyone, I’m fine. I’ll definitely be back.”

Flora called out to Kamael, who was about to follow Count Albani with a worried tone, and he smiled back with his usual gentle expression, disappearing somewhere with the other children.

And we, left behind, returned to our training routine, focusing on honing our skills as assassins in the forest.

Over these two years, more than half of our fifty comrades had changed, with three of the five biological children of Count Albani already dead, leaving just two behind.

That said, as suggested by the term “changing,” Count Albani always snagged new orphans to replenish our numbers.

Until he decides on that one final successor, it seems they constantly consider the possibility of everyone dying, regularly bringing in new candidates.

The mere thought of it makes me feel nauseated.

Finishing that day’s training, when dinner time arrived, Kamael and the others returned with Count Albani after being away since morning, but instead of the expected eight of them, there were only three, including Kamael, while the remaining two had terrified looks, as if they were possessed, staring blankly.

“Kamael, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. So don’t worry too much, everyone.”

When Kushana asked the returned Kamael, he replied with the same gentle smile as before, and we all sighed in relief.

But deep down, something told me he wasn’t really okay.

At that moment, we should have noticed.

Kamael, who smiled and told us he was fine, was gripping his arm tightly, like he was holding back something.


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