After I died, Everything Changed - Chapter 55

I stared sharply at Abel.

Even under pressure, his expression remained unreadable.

“What is it you really want to know?”

“The truth about the monster you’re hiding with your soldiers.”

At my question, Abel’s index finger began tapping lightly on the desk — as if organizing his thoughts.

“Don’t tell me… that thing was human?”

“It’s something that can’t quite be called human, but not fully a monster either.”

“You’re saying a monster somehow takes over a human body?”

“Not exactly. It’s the human who transforms.”

“…What?”

I had tossed around some vague theories, but the idea that a human could become a monster hadn’t crossed my mind.

It was a limit to my imagination.

“Personally, I’ve been calling it a ‘monster mutation phenomenon.’”

“That makes no sense. How could a human just… turn into a monster?”

“But you saw it with your own eyes.”

“I assumed it was using a human body as a host, like a shell.”

“If it were only using the body, we’d find human remains inside. But the transformation is complete. There’s no trace left. And honestly… it doesn’t matter which one came first. In the end, they become monsters either way.”

“What causes it?”

“No one knows yet.”

“What about poisoning? Contamination? Anything?”

I was grasping at straws, trying to understand something that defied logic.

“Is it prevention you’re hoping for? A way to stop the transformation?”

Honestly, yes.

At this point, the cause mattered less than the solution.

“Are you planning to tell people about this?”

“Did you think you could keep it hidden forever?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Abel, unbothered, asked me again.

“In war, morale determines victory. Even if the commander knows he’ll die tomorrow, he tells the soldiers something hopeful.”

“That’s deception.”

“What’s left when hope is taken away? Fear? Suicide? People destroying themselves in panic over a disaster they can’t escape?”

“…”

Was that why he chose to keep this secret?

“This has never happened before. No one knows how to stop it. And in that situation, spreading fear across the land isn’t so different from becoming the cause of it.”

“Rumors will spread eventually. And once people realize Mergen knew and did nothing, the backlash will be worse.”

“Which do you think is more despairing—an unconfirmed rumor, or an official, undeniable nightmare?”

He answered my question with one of his own.

“Are you trying to reveal this for the sake of people… or for the sake of your house?”

“For humanity,” I answered quietly.

“Then either way, if Mergen can’t resolve it, we’re doomed.”

Abel’s face remained expressionless, but somehow it still felt like he was mocking me.

“Is the version of Mergen you want… just a broken ruin?”

“…”

“Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. That might be for the best.”

Abel stood up from his chair.

Just as he rose, a flash of white lightning lit up the window.

CRACK. Thunder rolled, crashing in my ears.

While I was still startled by the sound, Abel had already crossed the room and stood right in front of me.

I tilted my head back to look up at him.

“If you want to destroy Mergen quickly, go outside right now and tell the world everything. Tell them we’re helpless. That the glory we once believed in is long gone. Go ahead.”

His presence came crashing down on me like a threat.

When had he grown into something so towering—so terrifying?

“If you do that, it won’t take long for the people you love to raise their hands against you, holding blades and clubs.”

Abel stood tall, gazing down at me.

His tousled hair spilled over his eyes, shadowing his expression.

The sound of rain pounding against the window scratched at my nerves.

The room was warm, filled with golden candlelight—yet I couldn’t stop shaking.

“Sometimes I imagine it.”

Abel’s hand reached toward me.

I was sitting in a chair—I couldn’t move back—but instinctively, my shoulders pulled away.

He ignored the motion and gently touched my hair.

I’d experienced this kind of contact from him before.

Why was he always so fixated on my hair?

“I imagine what you’d look like… after you’ve lost everything.”

My lips parted, ready to speak—
But I knew whatever words came out would be raw, unfiltered.

So I closed my mouth.

“What would it look like, I wonder… that version of you who’s a little sad and completely broken? Stubborn things tend to snap eventually. Will you still choose honor when that time comes?”

“You make it sound like I’m some fragile flower raised in a greenhouse.”

As if I’d bend just because the world turns against me?

What a joke.

“And you? How far are you willing to go to survive? Not things like honor, pride, or conviction—I mean all the old-fashioned things people like to talk about.”

Rustle.
I felt the faint brush of my hair as Abel’s hand moved through it.

I lifted my hand and struck his away.

“Do I look like I have anything left to lose?”

When I died as Deborah, all those grand ideals were already gone.

If anything remains now, it’s nothing more than a twisted sense of pride.

“So if this is your idea of measuring me, you can stop. Then and now, all I see in you is an arrogant, foolish child.”

For the first time, a smile spread across Abel’s otherwise detached face.

I didn’t understand it.

He looked genuinely pleased—after being insulted.

“The world is dangerous. You should stop going outside,” he said softly.

Was he really treating me like a pet bird in a cage?

I frowned.

“I always wonder—why someone like you dares to speak to me like this.”

My sharp words made Abel move.

He bent down and gently took my hand into his.

Surprise came a beat too late—my hand was already lifted before his face.

His lips brushed the back of it… and pulled away.

It all happened in an instant.

“If I become the head of the house, you won’t be able to go anywhere without my permission, Sister.”

At that moment, lightning flashed behind him.

A jagged streak lit up the window.
A heartbeat later, thunder cracked through the room, nearly drowning out his voice.

“Don’t bother resisting. The world is about to change—into something no one could have imagined.”

He sounded like a prophet. It was laughable.

“Enjoy your arrogance while it lasts. At least you won’t suffer humiliation when it all collapses. That’s something only people with something left to lose get to feel.”

“Will you take everything from me?”

“Is there anything you have that could possibly tempt me?”

Abel smiled again.

His laughter, laced with the sound of rain, left a bitter taste.

“I’m curious to see what you’ll do once you leave this room.”

So, this was all just a game to him.

In the end, it was I who stood up first.

I pressed my fingers lightly to his chest to push him back and stepped away.

It had felt inevitable since the moment I entered this room.

“No late-night outings. It’s cold and raining,” he said casually, glancing toward the window.

His pale skin, made even brighter by the lightning, seemed to glow a soft blue each time it flashed.

“If thunder scares you, should I sing you a lullaby?” he added with a smirk.

I let out a dry laugh.

“You’re the one who was afraid of thunder, not me.”

My words made Abel chuckle low.

“Yes. I’m still afraid.”

But in Abel’s violet eyes, there was no thunder or lightning—only the reflection of me.

“Will you comfort me again… like back then?”

“……”

Every time he brought up the past, the anger I held toward him would quietly unravel.

And that only made me want to distance myself from him even more.

If you’re scared, just say you’re scared. A brat like you pretending to be an adult is just laughable.

There had been a brief period when Deborah—only a year older—acted like she was the big sister.

She looked down on him, yes, but behind that gaze was always a flicker of sympathy.

If it was silly for a child to act like an adult, then it was just as ridiculous coming from her.

Still, he had liked it.

So much that he wanted to soak in every word she said.

“The party will be over soon. Just stay here.”

She had once offered him her lap when he ran off to the terrace, scared of the attention.

It wasn’t thunder he was afraid of that night.
It was the way his heart raced until it made him sick.

“Irene would calm down quickly when I patted her like this.”

That was the first time he wished he could be the only person she spoke about with such warmth.

It didn’t feel like a seed sprouting—more like a flame catching.

Even if the feeling ended up consuming him one day, it wasn’t something he could simply stomp out.

Because in that moment… it was far too warm.

And how could he ignore the spark that touched his cold fingertips?

On stormy nights like this, that memory came flooding back.

That warmth… and the darker feeling that wanted to tear open the soft spot she’d exposed.

“Why did she walk out of here?”

Abel’s brief reverie was broken by Chloe’s voice.

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