At the edge of forgotten wood, beneath a clear sky, a dark and brooding mansion stood. Its silhouette carved sharp against the moonlight, inflicting fear in its awake. The iron gates were rusty, groaning softly as the naked wind hit them. Suddenly, the gate opened and a cat entered into it.
The mansion's façade was a patchwork of shadow and stone; its walls were draped in darkness as if the night had cursed it with its essence. The feline's slit-like eyes were red. It was meowing as if mourning about something.
Pushing the front doors, it entered. The feline walked straight, not even deviating a bit.
As it walked further into this void, some voices entered its ears. It let out a meow again and dashed towards the source of the sound.
Reaching at a door, it knocked. Just as he knocked, the mansion's doors opened.
In front of it, a huge dining table was placed. There were all kinds of dishes on it. Ten people were sitting around it. There were two tables empty. One was a large chair, with a dragon head design on its top. The other was a normal chair like the rest of them.
The cat walked towards the 'Head Chair' and meowed loudly. It opened its mouth, and a leg came out of it. All of a sudden, another leg came out of it. Within a minute, it spit out a whole 'dead' body.
Meowing loudly, the feline ran away. It has been walking for almost two days. As a pampered cat, it needed rest. Also, it missed its tuna.
"What the fuck just happened?" said a man. He was wearing glasses, and had a cane in his head. He was in his fifties.
"The cat spat out a body... Rupert's body," whispered a woman with sunglasses.
There were six men and four women. They had all kinds of expression on their faces. Shock, disgust, anger... and 'fear.'
"The idiot got himself killed. How amusing~ I am really excited to have his body dissected," said a woman. She was wearing a veil over her face. Her brown hair was all over her shoulders.
Suddenly, someone clapped their hands. All ten of them turned their hands and found a butler standing near the body. He crouched down, and examined the body for a moment before standing up. He said, "It looks like Master Rupert is dead." His voice was full of English accent.
"We know that. But how? How can he be killed? There is no way someone has the strength to kill him. He was one of the best!" yelled a blue-haired man. He was in his twenties. His eyes were full of murderous intent.
The butler gave him a blank look. Master Rupert was a fool. He always underestimated his opponent, and this time... he found the result the hard way.
Yet, the butler didn't say anything, merely looking into the man's eyes as if nothing had happened.
The blue-haired man hit his hand on the table. With an angry tone, he yelled, "You sick fuck! Answer my damn question!"
"Calm down, Michael," chided a man with one eye.
Hearing his words, Michael shut up and continued glaring at the butler.
The butler sighed heavily. He said, "Master Rupert paid the price for his overconfidence with his life. He shouldn't have underestimated his opponent. There is a hole in his forehead. Normally, physical attacks can't kill him. In fact, he shouldn't even bleed. Even I don't know how he was killed. Looking at the bleeding spots, he had been shot with a shotgun. I will have to do an autopsy on him."
"We can be killed?" asked a man. He had a youthful face, and was wearing a rabbit hat.
His sister gave him an annoyed look. She scoffed, "Look at the dead body. Brother, you are being silly." Like him, she was wearing a rabbit hat. Hers was blue, and his was green.
The butler shook his head in denial. He smirked, "No, they can't. Master Rupert was unlucky. He is the one who should be blamed for his death."
Michael gritted his teeth but kept quiet. The siblings laughed loudly at his words. Yet, the butler had an uneasy feeling. Who in the world killed Rupert? And how? Was the person a threat to them? But at the same time, he believed the 'killer' must be someone with real power. Maybe they were plotting against them. It looked like he had to do something about it. This time might be different. He couldn't ignore such a powerful person, who might become an obstacle in their plan.
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The 'killer' in question was putting jam on her bread. Putting the knife down, Alice took a bite.
"Oh~ I have to say," Alice pointed at the jam, "this jam is tasty. You should have one!"
The woman in front of her smiled awkwardly. She scratched her head and asked, "Are you sure that you want to sell this house?"
This 'house?' Alice was sure as hell!
"Yes, I am sure," replied Alice.
The woman looked around the house and grimaced in disgust. This house would fetch very less money. As for her commission... she should just forget about it.
Maybe her luck had finally committed suicide. Seven houses with no commission and this... might be her 'eighth one.'
The woman took another look and cried internally.
"Well, I will prepare the papers." The woman gave a fake smile.
Alice took another bite and nodded.
Gulping, Alice said, "So, how long will it take?"
The question acted like a knife, which was being plunged into the woman's heart.