The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Mysterious Man (1)
Night had fallen over the palace, and Argider sat perched on her bed, gnawing on her nails like a squirrel working through a tough nut.

Who in this gilded labyrinth of scheming sycophants could she possibly trust?

Every time she thought she’d found an ally, the universe smacked her with a “surprise!”

Uzak? Oh, he wasn’t just Esmeralda’s loyal retainer; turns out he was her actual dog in human form.

Faeralys? Probably bipolar, which was fine, but also incredibly inconvenient when she needed consistency.

Callista? Off. No other way to put it.

And sure, the nobles’ approval was slowly thawing, but beneath their polite nods and awkward compliments was a simmering hatred she could practically taste.

And announcing her intentions with magic? If anyone caught wind that she was dabbling in that, it wouldn’t just be a scandal. It would be a war.

The endless parade of fake smiles and obligatory “yes, my lieges” would bury her alive.

She groaned, slumping dramatically. “Wait… couldn’t I just use my empath skill?” she muttered, the thought striking her like a stray arrow. Technically, her empathic abilities let her enter someone’s internal world.

Technically.

But the last time she tried, it was like stumbling through a foggy maze with no map. Granted, she had leveled up since then.

She could supposedly feel emotional imprints on objects and places now, but how useful was that, really?

Sighing, she decided to call the only creature in this palace who made marginally more sense than everyone else: Alvator, her system-appointed cat guide.

“Alvator!” she hissed into the air, pacing like a madwoman. After a moment, a swirling vortex of smoke appeared, and out stepped a sleek black cat with glowing white eyes and a perpetually unimpressed expression.

“You rang?” Alvator drawled, flicking his tail. “Or did you just summon me for moral support? Again.”

“I’m spiraling, okay?” Argider snapped. “I need… guidance. Wisdom. Or a manual on how to stop feeling like the only sane idiot in this palace.”

The cat sighed dramatically, leaping onto her desk. “What is it this time? More wife problems? Rogue nobles? Or are you still upset about Uzak eating your macarons?”

“…Uzak ate my macarons?”

“You didn’t know?” Alvator tilted his head. “Oh. Uh. Never mind that. What’s the actual crisis?”

Fuming, Argider recounted her predicament. As she spoke, she realized something horrifying: she felt more attached to Uzak, the walking disaster, than anyone else in the palace. How had this happened? Was it the macarons? His stupid loyalty to Esmeralda? Or was she just that desperate?

“Well,” Alvator said, licking his paw, “if you’re unsure of Uzak’s intentions, test him. Set up a situation where he has to prove himself.”

“A test?” Argider blinked. “Like what?”

The cat grinned, all teeth and mischief. “Oh, I don’t know. Something dramatic. Maybe… you pretend you’re in danger? Something high-stakes. Something that’ll force him to act without thinking. That’ll show where his true loyalties lie.”

It wasn’t her best idea, but it was certainly her most theatrical.

The next day, Argider called her servants and made a cryptic announcement. “Summon Uzak to the throne room,” she ordered, her voice carrying a weight she didn’t feel.

Hours later, she stood on the palace balcony, her heart pounding as she looked down at the dizzying drop below. Uzak burst into the room, wide-eyed.

“Your Majesty! What are you doing?!”

Argider glanced over her shoulder, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, you know. Just contemplating whether the afterlife has better macarons. What do you think?”

“Get down!” Uzak barked, or rather, growled. He rushed forward, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back with such force she nearly stumbled into him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Argider looked up at him, startled. Uzak’s face was pale, his grip firm but trembling.

“You scared me,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Argider blinked. Maybe, just maybe, she had underestimated the dog-man. Almost jumping off a balcony seemed unnecessary, but an enemy would rather let her die. Does this meaan he could be trusted?

From the corner of the room, Alvator watched with a smirk. “Well, well… Do the second test…”

“Your Majesty! What were you thinking?! If you had any problems, you could just tell me!” He looked so genuinely worried that for a fleeting second, Argider almost felt bad. Almost.

But no. This was bigger than his puppy-dog eyes or his oddly heroic rescue.

She needed to know what was really going on in that dog-brained head of his. The time for niceties was over.

“Alright, Uzak,” she murmured, stepping back just slightly. “Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding.”

Her eyes flickered, glowing faintly as her empath skill surged to life. Before Uzak could so much as blink, she plunged into the murky depths of his internal world.

The transition hit her like a runaway horse.

One moment, she was in the throne room. The next, she was being flung through a swirling vortex of colors, sensations, and absolutely no sense of personal dignity.

She felt her stomach so close to blowing up, her breakfast of honeyed bread and tea threatening an untimely return.

“Ugh,” she groaned, clutching at her nonexistent body in this formless limbo. “Next time, I’m definitely upgrading the skill first…”

The chaotic whirl came to a screeching halt, and Argider landed, or rather, existed, in a void so black it felt like the absence of light itself.

No walls.

No ceiling.

No floors.

Just her, floating in the abyss like a lost thought.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself, her voice echoing unnervingly. “This is fine. Totally normal. A little creepy, but—”

“Who dares disturb?”

The voice rolled through the void like thunder, deep and commanding.

Argider spun around or whatever the empathic equivalent of spinning was trying to pinpoint its source.

Out of the darkness emerged a figure cloaked in shadow. The faintest hint of light followed him, enough to reveal a flowing black cloak, polished boots, and an air of unsettling calm.

Then there were his eyes, bright, piercing, and far too shiny for comfort, like polished silver coins in a dim room.

“Uh…” Argider stammered. “Who… are you? And why are you in Uzak’s… whatever this is?”

The man tilted his head, studying her with an unreadable expression. “Who am I? A curious question. Perhaps a better one is… who are you to enter uninvited?”

“Me? I’m the Emperor, thank you very much,” Argider snapped, the last word dripping with indignation. “I have every right to snoop!”

“Hmm,” the man mused, stepping into the single, inexplicable spotlight that illuminated the void. His features remained obscured beneath his hood, but his voice softened into something almost amused. “Caught me, have you?”

“Caught you?” Argider frowned. “Caught you doing what?”

The man’s lips curled into a chilling smile. “Ah, but if you’ve caught me… then perhaps it’s time we traded places.”

“What—”

Before she could finish, the man surged forward, faster than thought. His hands, strong, cold, and alarmingly real, wrapped around her throat.

Argider gasped, clawing at him as the void seemed to close in around her. His grip was unrelenting, his silver eyes burning like twin moon.

“I’ve been trapped in this wretched place long enough,” he hissed. “And now, dear Empress, you’ll take my place!”

Argider’s mind reeled as she fought to breathe. This wasn’t just some emotional imprint or memory fragment.

This was something else, something alive. Something that had been waiting.

And now, it wanted out.