Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary! Chapter 572: Death [3]

I wasn't very knowledgeable about wine.

Truth be told, I never particularly enjoyed wine.

"Give this a try. It's a 1975 Champarion, one of the top-quality wines available. To be honest, its flavor strikes a perfect balance—not overly sweet or bitter. It has just the ideal touch of fruitiness and tanginess."

I sipped it carefully.

"Wow...!"

"See?"

"More. I want more."

Everything had changed now.

Wine's flavor was beginning to appeal to me.

I was picking up plenty of knowledge about various blends and their distinct flavors too.

Yet that wasn't the whole story.

The cuisine was delicious, and the folks were incredibly friendly. But most importantly, the beds offered supreme comfort. Despite sleeping far more than before, truly restful nights had been rare—maybe countable on one hand.

But in this place...?

Waking up each day felt like I'd just had the most refreshing sleep imaginable.

This spot was essentially heaven.

’Sure, being dead and trapped here doesn't matter. Ultimately, the exhaustion is gone, and I don't have to battle that cursed illness gnawing at my mind daily.’

This was precisely the existence I'd always craved.

"Here, Seth. Sample this appetizer."

"What's this...?"

"It's steak tartare topped with white truffle oil and served with toasted bread."

"This is delicious!"

Not just the wine—the dishes were outstanding as well. As I socialized with the guests in the courtyard, I found myself fully immersed in the fun. Time slipped away unnoticed; I lost all sense of its passage, with days flying by in a blur.

Each morning, I'd rise, head to the gathering, converse with everyone, discover fresh insights, and savor the meals and drinks.

It truly resembled heaven on earth.

Yet, deep inside, a subtle unease began to stir.

The longer I stayed here, the stronger the sensation that I was forfeiting something vital.

But what exactly?

What was slipping away?

"How are you settling in, ■■■■? You seem to be fitting in nicely with the group."

Huh?

What did he just say?

I must be intoxicated.

I glanced at the wine glass I held.

"Could you repeat that? I missed it."

"No problem."

He offered a kind smile.

"I’m inquiring about your well-being. Are you having a good time? Is anything not up to par? Want extra food? I can arrange it. Prefer finer wine? I’ll supply the best."

"Is... that the case?"

"Absolutely. Whatever you desire, ■■■■, just say the word, and it's yours."

I blinked deliberately, taking my time.

There it was once more.

Amid his words, a void lingered.

Something my thoughts couldn't grasp.

But what? What was missing?

"■■■■? Everything fine? Need a break? You've clearly had plenty to drink."

"...Perhaps."

I grinned, swirling the wine in my glass before sipping again.

"Perhaps."

Am I inebriated?

Quite possibly.

Peering into my glass, I examined the crimson liquid within. I swirled it gently, observing how it danced along the sides, catching the intense sunlight overhead. As it kept rotating, I halted the motion abruptly, spotting an oddity.

My reflection...

Why was none visible?

Even worse—

’What do I actually look like?’

Shutting my eyes, I strained to recall.

I believe... my hair was brown. Brown hair, yes? Wait, golden? Was I blond? Hmm. No, that doesn't seem right. And my eyes? Green? No, blue.

Gray? Black? Purple?

’What? Why is recalling so tough?’

I swirled the glass anew, lifted my gaze, and scanned the surroundings. The environment seemed to wobble and revolve, my mind feeling increasingly fuzzy by the moment. I had no clue what was occurring.

Worst of all, memory escaped me.

What did I even resemble?

No...

What was my name?

Oh, my name.

At least that I can grasp.

"My name is ■■■■."

Wait?

"■■■■."

That's...

"■■■■."

I reached for my mouth.

Why?

"■■■■."

Nothing reached my ears. Whenever I parted my lips to utter my name, an invisible barrier seemed to intervene. The sounds emerged, yet my brain rejected acknowledging them.

As though it had been erased forever from my recollection.

Impossible, isn't it?

’No, it can't be true.’

Downing another gulp of wine, I stepped away from my current position.

"Hey, ■■■■. Join me here; I've got a fresh treat for you to sample."

"■■■■! ■■■■!"

"Hey, ■■■■! Where to, ■■■■? Over here! Give this a go! Plus, there's a person I'd like you to meet!"

As I wandered, various individuals vied for my focus. It struck me as peculiar—almost like they were all zeroing in on me simultaneously.

My typically steady pulse quickened, propelling my pace onward.

Instinctively, I approached the castle's windows and examined the image staring back.

However...

"....."

Only a silhouette appeared.

A featureless silhouette of a former human form.

Ba... Thump! Ba... Thump!

A sensation ignited in my chest.

It intensified relentlessly as the ambient sounds hushed momentarily. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed multiple gazes fixed upon me.

All of them grinned.

"■■■■, what's going on? You're behaving oddly."

"Share a drink with us, ■■■■. Why the weirdness?"

"■■■■?"

My mouth opened, attempting to voice something.

Yet words failed.

■■■■. Who is ■■■■?

No—who am I?

"Haa... Haa."

Without realizing, my breaths came in heavier gasps. I couldn't fathom the situation, but a deep wrongness gnawed at me. In a fleeting instant, clarity pierced my thoughts as I reflected on my circumstances.

On my existence.

Remnants of prior times.

But—

"..."

Emptiness prevailed.

No recollections surfaced at all.

Well, fragments lingered, but dimly.

Distinguishing truth from illusion proved impossible.

’Who...? Who am I? What’s this place? What’s my purpose? What’s unfolding? Why here?’

Doubts surged through my thoughts relentlessly.

They resounded fiercely within as I grappled for responses. Abruptly, a piercing ache built in my skull.

"Akh!"

"■■■■? You alright?"

"You good, ■■■■?"

"S-stay back!"

I staggered backward, extending my arm to ward off the approaching crowd. Clutching my head, I surveyed the area.

For a brief spell, my mind sharpened.

Recollections began to surface, only to dissolve swiftly thereafter.

My name remained elusive.

My appearance, my very self—all vague.

Yet one thing resurfaced.

Specific phrases.

I had no idea whose voice uttered them or the speaker's identity.

But then, an epiphany struck within.

And—

Crashing the glass against the nearby wall, it fragmented into sharp shards. Seizing one razor-edged piece, I thrust it toward my face, embedding it into my right eye.

SPURT!