Pseudo Resident’s Illegal Stay in Another World

The lace curtains fluttered with the wind, coming through the wide-open window.

Beyond them, one could see the scenery of a fluffy and cool-looking comforter and bed.

Sitting on top of it was a girl in a completely black dress, with plenty of frills and ribbons, making it look like it was a dress made for a doll.

I felt like I was seeing a mannequin-sized doll sitting on the bed right now.

I thought she was really a plus-sized doll, but then she opened her mouth and spoke.

"Uncle, is it true that you've seen a nymph?"

She smiled brightly and energetically. Yet, I was not a middle-aged man. However, since I was hiding my identity behind a suspicious mask and robe, well, I could understand why she made the mistake.

Anyway, I was a bit surprised.

So this was how a noble young lady really looked like, huh…

Enya, whom I met on the battlefield before, felt more like a general or a commander than a noble young lady.

Seeing the epitome of a nobly raised young lady like this made me feel sentimental.

It was like my life's genre had just turned into a Disney tale.

But if there was something worth noting then, it was that her hair and eye color were black.

While to me, it was a color that holds no special significance or interest, in this world, black evoked thoughts of Pluto's domain— hell, death, and the dark, lonely valley of mortality.

That made it ominous.

It truly embodied the color of the Samaritans who lived in the black wilderness beyond the sea, leaping here and there, heralding an ominous end.

Was she a Samaritan? Well, that was highly unlikely.

"Uncle, have you really seen a nymph?"

While I was lost in thought, the baron’s daughter, Bridgette, suddenly got up from the bed. And then, she walked toward me and ended up standing in front of me.

"It's such a strange mask. Also, you have quite a big figure. You are the most peculiar-looking among the hired quacks my father brought."

Hired quacks?

At that moment, I recalled why I ended up here in the first place.

Whether this girl's identity was Samaritan or not didn’t really matter to me. My main goal was to solve whatever illness she was suffering from, get the gold bar, and escape from this residence as soon as possible.

However, the baron’s daughter, Bridgette, suddenly started circling me, spinning all around and even talking in a chirpy tone.

"It’s a mask I've never seen around here. They say there will be a mask festival soon. Is that why you're wearing it? Or is it because your face is too ugly?"

First, she called me “Uncle”, and then now she was suddenly poking fun at my appearance. Though she seemed cheerful, she was quite impolite, to say the least.

Even if she was being impolite, being a noble's daughter probably saved her from getting hit on the head. That might have shaped her personality into this rude young miss.

"This year's mask festival will be grand! I really want to go. I couldn't go last year and the year before that too..."

It sounded silly coming from me, but if I was alone in the same room with a large man, I might feel a bit intimidated.

Since I didn’t see that fear in her, she either had a strong heart or was confident in the mansion's security.

"Have you been to the mask festival before, Uncle? They even set off fireworks at the end. You know about fireworks, right? It's a type of magic similar to the fire attribute magic used by fire mages. You can see them quite well from the windows here."

This young lady, Bridgette, chattered away even though I didn’t ask her anything. Her behavior made me wonder if she had abstained from talking to another person for a long time.

Most of what she said wasn't particularly interesting to me. However, an old story I heard from my father began to surface in my mind.

He used to say that listening to patients' stories might reveal clues about their illness, as their experiences and karma might be embedded in their words.

It was as if using acupressure or acupuncture to cure someone’s illness was not suspicious enough already, now it seemed like you could also cure illness by listening to their stories. It was the height of absurdity.

In the past, I would have thought it was an unbelievable story, but these days, the stories my father told me were surprisingly coming in handy.

"Why can't you go to the festival? Is it because of the illness you're suffering from?"

Besides simply having a smaller chest, could there be some other dangerous symptoms? Maybe she was just being cautious about hiding her small chest.

But I felt the reason was slightly different from that.

In response to my question, Bridgette let out a slight sigh.

"Even if I didn't have an illness, I couldn't have gone anywhere. I've never left this cottage since I was born."

"Is that so?"

"My father is overly protective. He thinks I'll melt away like ice if I were to go outside. You know ice, right? That cold hard thing."

Sssk—

As Bridgette wandered around me, she eventually approached the tall window.

Then, while her black hair fluttered in the blowing wind, she eagerly observed the clouds, the sun, and the world. She looked infinitely small in front of the majesty of her observations.

"It's difficult to see nymphs even if you wander outside. Are nymphs really pointy-eared?"

"Well, something like that. They have pointed ears, but they’re shorter than the elves’..."

"Elves? Have you seen elves, too, Uncle? What's the difference between nymphs and elves?"

With her continuous questions, I could somewhat understand why the baron’s beloved daughter, Bridgette, had her room located so high up.

She wanted to see more and more of the world, further than anyone else. If that was the case, then having the highest room would be ideal for her.

"Please tell me more about the outside world. Even if the treatment doesn't succeed, I'll persuade my father to pay you well."

"Have you really never left the mansion? Did you never go to the outside world since you were born?"

"Well, except for once very early on in my childhood, never."

In a world without the internet, being confined like this must be quite boring.

No matter how large and luxurious the house was and how well you could dress and eat, it was natural to feel stifled after a few weeks, months, or years.

I gazed at the scenery from this small observatory under my mask and recalled the landscape that many healers who were invited by the baron must have described to this young lady about the outside world.

"Why does he prevent you from going outside?"

"It's probably because of his overprotectiveness. Well, to be honest, I'm not sure either."

I furrowed my brow as I looked at her black hair swaying in the wind. The story that the coachman told me before I arrived here flashed back like a fog.

The baron’s wife was said to have been kidnapped by the Samaritans.

Kidnapped wife.

A daughter with black hair.

That was how this situation somehow turned into a soap opera instead of a Disney genre.

Having a daughter with black hair from his wife.

He must want to hide her.

That was why they even put blackout curtains all over this massive cage.

"Oh my goodness, mint stargazy pie? Do they actually sell that terrible food outside?"

"It may sound horrible, but it tastes good when you actually try it."

I answered the curious questions of this lively young lady for a while. Yet, she was chattering on with other questions before I could even finish answering them. She was acting like a starving person, hungry for days on end. However, instead of food, she was starving for knowledge of the outside world.

"Adventurers eat anything, or so I've heard. It seems to be true. While exploring, they must come across many unappetizing things. They have to eat monsters too. Is that right?"

"It's more or less like that."

"Huh, that sounds fun. I want to be an adventurer too. Discovering treasures, exploring new uncharted ruins that others haven't seen before, wielding a sword to slay goblins—"

"Although I'm not an adventurer, it might not be as fun as you think."

"Why?"

Because obviously, making money from other people was not easy.

The word 'adventurer' might sound romantic, but in reality, it was not that exciting. There were many challenges and hardships, like rolling in mud just to make ends meet.

But I didn't bother correcting her and explaining all that.

It was too much trouble, and now it was time to focus on my original purpose for being here.

"So, Young Lady, I'd like to start diagnosing your condition now."

In response to my words, the face that was immersed in the happy imagination of the information I shared with her just a moment ago suddenly wrinkled.

"My illness can't be cured by just anyone. Instead of that, tell me more about the outside world."

As a noble's daughter, her demands carried some weight. It seemed that ruling over others from birth was running in the nobles’ DNA.

But we had already spent over an hour on small talk. If I kept stalling like this, I didn't know when I could finish my work and go back home.

"It won't take long. Just give me your hand."

"Why do you need my hand for the diagnosis?"

Bridgette pulled her wrist close to her chest and adopted a defensive posture. It was quite refreshing seeing her act like proper a high-born noble lady.

"You, are you going to take my blood for examination? I won't allow that!"

Blood? I wondered whose blood she was talking about. Some of the previous healers before me seemed to have taken her blood for examination.

"It won't hurt at all. I don't need your blood. I just want to hold your wrist."

"...."

Her black eyes widened with suspicion. She was no different from a wary black kitten rummaging through a trash bin. Damn, she was such a troublesome brat.

I extended my palm, now revealed from beneath the dark red robe, toward Bridgette.

"It will be over soon."

"... If my illness gets better, will I be able to roam outside as well?"

"I'm not sure about that, but there might be a possibility."

Upon my reasonable response, Bridgette let out a small sigh. Evidently, she didn't want to let me touch her hand, but she seemed to have come to accept it nonetheless.

Slide—

Then her extremely thin, lusciously feminine wrist rested on my palm.

Every time I held a woman's wrist, I couldn’t help but wonder how they managed to live with such fragile wrists. They seemed like they could break with just a little force.

Anyway, that is not important right now.

Ding—

[Stats] Name:

Bridgette von Pashone Level: 4 Condition: Moros's Reprieve 》Hell's Stigma 》Magical Power Deficiency 》Lower Back Pain 》Dry Eyes

What the heck?

Much more text appeared than I had anticipated. She was born a noblewoman and probably hadn't faced any tough situations in her life, so why were there so many strange terms in her condition?

Wait, could it be because she spent most of her time indoors and lacked physical activity it caused her to contract these health issues?

"That's enough, right?"

Ssk—

Bridgette swiftly withdrew her wrist away from my hand.

"So, by just touching my wrist, can you tell what illness I have?"

It was the same question that always came up whenever I finished touching someone’s wrist to feel their pulse. If I was in her position, I would have asked the same thing.

Although many terms come to mind, the most relevant one in this situation would be this.

"Is your lower back hurting? Around the lumbar area?"

"Well, yes. How did you figure that out? Did you hear it from other healers? Or from our father? Or maybe from Sydney?"

"I didn't hear it from anyone. Your eyes are a bit dry, too, right? You might feel a slight stiffness as well."

"... I-I never told anyone about that."

The suspicion in Bridgette's eyes, which was present just moments ago, intensified into a sharp glare.

"How did you know? Is it magic?"

“Well, let’s say it’s something similar to that. Anyway, let's start by solving your lower back pain. Please lie down on that bed over there."

"I don't like things that hurt."

"It won't hurt. In fact, it might feel good."

My massage skills were even recognized by the ever-strict witch with a stick up her ass, Bitchfriede.Now, with the added blessing of Dexterity, I had undoubtedly reached the pinnacle of massage mastery.

To receive a massage from Hassan, the Overlord of Hell… consider yourself lucky, you brat. This is a reward bestowed only by me.

With such ridiculous thoughts, I urged the noble young lady to proceed.

"Quickly lie down."

"... If you do anything weird, I'll scream. Then you'll be in big trouble, Uncle. So, you better not have any strange ideas."

"Do as you wish then."

Ssk—

With that response, Bridgette lay down on the bed in front of me. Her voluminous dress was slightly bothersome.

I couldn't muster the courage to tell a noble young lady something along the lines of, "I should do this on your bare skin. Please remove your dress." That would probably result in my head getting chopped off.

Well, regardless, I knew how to perform a massage that was good for lower back pain, even without seeing bare skin.

No, since I was doing it over the clothes, why not try Chuna Manual Therapy instead of taking a chiropractic approach?

So, I held both ankles of the black-clothed noble young lady, Bridgette.

"W-Why are you touching my legs!?"

"I'm trying to measure how much your hips and pelvis are tilted to either side."

Since she was indoors most of the time, sitting on a bed or chair, her body naturally tilted to one side.

So, to check which way this young lady’s body was tilting, I straightened both her legs and observed the position of her feet.

"Now I will touch your feet a bit. It's not anything strange, just part of the treatment, so you don't have to be concerned."

"…."

Bridgette, who was chattering away just moments ago, fell silent as the treatment began.

However, it was closer to an aloof and obedient attitude rather than feeling scared or intimidated at this moment.

She must have experimented with various treatments from many healers. At this point, there was nothing that would surprise her.

Of course, I preferred this calmness over the loud squawking and frustrating resistance.

"Your left leg is a bit shorter. Let me fix that first."

Thus, I placed my hands on the left pelvis of Young Lady Bridgette, who was lying flat. Well, to be exact, I placed my hands just below her left hip.

Through the frills of her dress, I could feel the soft and supple texture of her buttocks, which almost made blood rush to my schlong for a moment.

But I reminded myself that this was by no means a lewd or indecent act; it was a treatment process.

"Huff—"

I let out a small sigh.

Now, the most important thing was to apply the right force in the right direction. Considering the sudden surge in my strength, I should probably release only a little of it.

I held my breath and exerted pressure on the pelvis under both palms.

Thud— Pop—

"Kyaaakkk…!!"

Surprised by the sudden pressure, the Young Lady let out a startled scream.

***

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