"Control"

For millennia, controlling living beings has been a pivotal subject in magical research. Beast-taming spells, plant-manipulation magic, communion with all life forms—all were merely variations of biological control.

Yet the most controversial branch remained "human control."

Countless methods existed: invasive mind magic, hypnotic brainwashing, sanity-shattering potions, puppeteering bodies by bypassing the brain entirely. But humanity’s complex neural architecture made true, permanent domination nearly impossible. Few mages achieved absolute mastery over another’s mind and body. Though forbidden artifacts capable of heart control existed, most were destroyed or sealed away—utterly inaccessible to ordinary people.

Unless… one possessed special drugs and didn’t demand permanence. Even magic novices could then seize control.

---

*This is it…*

The final page of the booklet—its oldest section—bore blurry, near-illegible script. But the described effects were clear enough.

"*Experimental Drug P-12*"

A creation of the Healer Demon Lord Astroth, designed so "even commoners could easily manipulate others." Though incomplete and riddled with limitations, its power was terrifying.

*So that’s how… that’s how it was done!*

York dropped the booklet, rubbing his throbbing temples as he processed the flood of information.

*This is it. The killer used this!*

He licked his dry lips—parched from tension and adrenaline—and turned to Liliana. "Liliana… did you know about this formula from the start? Have you ever tested it?"

"No! Absolutely not! I stumbled upon it while reading, but I’d never dare try it! The thought never even crossed my mind!"

Liliana shook her head violently. If charm-stealing potions lingered in moral gray zones, a drug enabling amateurs to control others was the ultimate taboo. Exposure meant far worse than prison time.

"Hmph… If you’re telling the truth, only the killer remains. They must have discovered your hidden booklet long ago. Stole the formula when you weren’t looking… brewed this cursed thing!"

York slammed the booklet to the floor, pacing and raking his fingers through his hair.

P-12 was a half-finished poison. Per the notes, victims needed dosing hours before manipulation—and effects lasted merely three days.

Three days. Exactly the length of the Harvest Festival break.

Within that window, the doser could command victims utterly. Even mages or Mystic Warriors would unleash devastating spells or combat techniques under control. Victims remembered nothing upon waking.

But as an incomplete formula, it carried a horrific side effect: irreversible brain damage. A single dose could shatter nerves, driving victims mad or reducing them to vegetables. Utterly vile.

"So that’s why Ellen…"

Ellen clutched her head, groaning. Her migraine had worsened; even Chloe’s pain-relief magic barely eased it.

"Damn it all! Ellen was controlled once. Drugged. The timing must’ve been—"

"That dinner!" Nerlis cut in.

"Plates sat unattended in the kitchen before serving. The killer had ample time to slip poison in! Which means—"

York’s lips trembled. Liliana lowered her gaze. The truth crashed over them all.

The drug had been mixed into dinner.

That night, everyone was dosed.

Meaning the killer could puppet anyone at will.

The horror of losing oneself in an instant—to become a mindless doll—threatened to crush their sanity.

But—

"York," Nerlis said quietly, "this drug isn’t foolproof. It has limits. Being unfinished… it *must* have limits!"

The booklet lacked experimental data. Only the killer knew the true constraints through private trials. *Think. Connect everything from start to now.*

"The notes say victims must be dosed hours ahead. So the killer couldn’t act until late that night! First victim: Lord Anhans and two Shadow Attendants…"

"Even under control, no one can self-extract their heart. Blood loss would kill them first… This isn’t necromancy. The drug can’t command corpses."

"Then the first controlled were Father’s Shadow Attendants!" York slapped his thigh. "They ate too. The killer must’ve poisoned their meals earlier! That night, they forced the Attendants to murder Father, carve out his heart, and move the body to the hall!"

"But the Attendants died afterward—likely ordered to suicide. Why not control them to slaughter everyone in one night?" Nerlis frowned.

"Because… because the control duration is short! Maybe mere minutes! Even swift Shadow Attendants couldn’t accomplish so much in that time. And if the killer could’ve ordered mass suicide that night, they would have. So they can only control *one* person at a time… with hours-long cooldowns between victims!"

"Hence this trap. They sabotaged the barrier controls first, locking us here. Destroyed the barrier logs. They planned a prolonged game…"

"After carving the heart, the Attendants must’ve handed it to the killer before dying. Next victim: Anhans. Controlled people can’t self-extract hearts, so someone else had to do it. But Anhans died alone… No. Not alone."

"*Puppets!*"

Anhans’s puppets were autonomous—executing commands without precise control.

"The killer exploited Anhans’s arrogance, luring him away when isolated. Controlled him to order his puppet: *Kill me. Carve my heart. Take it.* That’s why his chest wound was so crude—autonomous puppets lack finesse!"

"But the puppet had to deliver the heart. Hidden somewhere if not handed directly…"

"That’s why one puppet was missing during our search! Three lay broken on the ground, but Anhans’s case had four slots. The fourth carried his heart away… deactivating after completing its task."

"Controlling Anhans to issue that entire sequence of commands… This killer is…"

"A monster. Every move meticulously calculated." York’s voice dropped. "Finally, Molly. We guarded the hall stubbornly. The killer grew impatient. So they controlled Ellen—the strongest fighter—to rip the heart out by brute force."

"But… by their pattern, they should’ve ordered Ellen to hide the heart, then suicide immediately. Yet she returned alive."

"The killer made a mistake. The half-finished drug’s effects may be unstable. Whatever the reason, the control broke before Ellen could kill herself."

That explained the present.

Only one mystery remained. The core question.

*Who is the killer?*

York paced frantically, fingers tearing at his hair. The truth was *so close*—just beyond his grasp. A hair’s breadth away…

"Hurry… The killer needs downtime between controls. They just used Ellen… so we’re safe for now…"

*How long is the cooldown? Hours? Half a day?* A death countdown had begun. He might be next. He *had* to solve this first.

---

Watching York and Nerlis dissect the clues, Liliana felt a wave of exhaustion—not relief, not resentment.

When she’d surrendered the booklet, she’d braced to be falsely accused. Her family-loving brother would rage. That bug girl might torture her. She’d expected agony.

Yet… the insect girl hadn’t blamed her. Even calmed her furious brother.

*…Resentment.*

Why did she need *her* protection?

But… this was fine.

Her guilt had vanished. She’d done all she could. It was enough.

*Shh.*

"—!?"

A cold, sharp pressure against her waist choked back her scream. Icy. Razor-edged. A knife.

"Quiet. Stay exactly as you are. This blade’s poisoned. One scratch… and you’re dead in thirty seconds."

"You… how…"

"*Silence!*"

A hissed command. The blade pressed deeper. Liliana’s mind reeled before recognizing the voice.

"You impress me, *sister*. I thought your cowardice would keep you from ever revealing that booklet… You’ve been sabotaging me all along, haven’t you? My greatest mistake was not killing you sooner."