Chapter 1 A New Servant Arrives

As if those words had triggered some mechanism, a low, muffled sound reached the ears of the Annihilation Cultist, and countless shadowy outlines abruptly appeared in the darkness before him—faint light, from an unknown source, flickered in the air, illuminating an exceptionally spacious and ancient hall!

His eyes widened as he took in the hall's palatial splendor, yet also its decades-old state of disrepair. He saw curved staircases spiraling upwards at the far end, connecting to high corridors and platforms, massive pillars looming in the dimness, and exquisite draperies hanging from the tops of the pillars, swaying gently in an imperceptible breeze. The walls around the hall were punctuated by dark, empty windows—these openings like the gaping maws of beasts. No light shone from outside, and the windows themselves were sealed shut by a crisscrossing of iron bars. In between the windows hung huge, unreadable oil paintings, their canvases filled with nothing but eerie, mottled splotches of color.

The Annihilation Cultist stared in astonishment at the scene before him, then suddenly realized that the restraints on his hands and feet had vanished. He took two steps forward, feeling his body return to his control, and then instinctively called out to the demon that shared his soul.

But only an empty howling echoed in his soul. The abyssal demon that had been his companion for so many years seemed never to have existed at all. Nothing answered his call.

"Servant, step forward, to the end of the carpet."

The low, muffled voice sounded once more, this time directly from within his mind.

"Who is it?!" The Annihilation Cultist's eyes widened in terror as he surveyed the magnificent yet empty and bizarre mansion hall, but he saw no one.

He looked up, toward the far end of the hall—a dark red carpet stretched far into the distance, ending at the foot of the stairs that curved upwards like wings to the second floor.

For some reason, when his gaze fell there, his legs began to move of their own accord—as if to obey the voice he had just heard. He walked toward the end of the carpet and stopped a few meters from the stairs.

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground echoed outside the alley. The Annihilation Cultist who had just tried to escape suddenly fell from midair. He landed with a loud crash, his body shattering into countless pieces like porcelain, his clothes included.

The butler slowly raised his arm, pointing to a large black door at the end of the corridor.

Several servants were passing through the corridor. Although they had no eyes, the "new servant" felt their gaze.

A gust of wind howled behind her. Vanna rushed to the mouth of the alley. She stared dumbfounded at the scene before her, and after a long moment, she turned to look at the doll beside her. "Did... did you do this?"

"This is Alice's Mansion, and you are the new servant here," the "butler's" dull voice suddenly sounded, interrupting the new servant's wandering thoughts. "Follow me, your post is upstairs."

As he spoke, he raised his head and looked at the mansion in the distance.

"Why is everyone looking at me?"

The new servant nodded subconsciously and followed the headless butler. He glanced down unconsciously and noticed that he was now wearing a servant's uniform—just like the maids in the hall.

"No time to think about that, we need to get out of here," Vanna said slowly. "It was too loud. Even if we're not in the central district, the night patrol should have noticed."

"He grabbed my thread and then used some strength—he started it, I was a little scared…" Alice said incoherently, gesticulating as she spoke. Her explanation was so effective that Vanna understood even less. "Did you understand?"

The doll bent over and took out a handkerchief from his pocket, gently wiping the ornaments near the door.

Alice was instantly startled. "Wah!"

On top of their necks were only rough, spherical protrusions, like the connecting parts of a doll, with a texture between wood and ceramic.

Low voices came from

Their chests—because all of these servants were headless.

The "new servant" stared in astonishment at the servants busily moving about the hall, feeling dazed for a moment.

"Because he's the first servant with a head," the butler stopped and turned around, his voice seemingly tinged with amusement, "and also, it's been many years since we had a new face."

The doll took a step forward.

"What... what is this place?!" the "new servant" said, his voice trembling. He no longer remembered how he had arrived at this secluded mansion, nor did he remember his name or origins. He only felt a primal fear, an unsettling sense of unease that was slowly eroding his heart. He looked at the headless butler before him and mustered his courage to ask, and as he spoke, the sound of whispering and the feeling of being watched came from all directions.

"...Didn't understand," Vanna shook her head, then glanced back into the depths of the alley. There was a pile of charred remains smoldering faintly. "Damn it, the priest I was dealing with didn't say anything in the end, and the one on his side was simply smashed to pieces. No information was left behind."

Taking the last step, he raised his head and looked at the platform before him, and the corridor on the inner side of the platform.

The new servant bent over and slowly retreated until he was out of the room. The door to Sleeping Alice slammed shut before him, emitting a low, imposing rumble.

There was no trace of blood in these shattered porcelain fragments, as if he had been a manufactured doll from the very beginning—a flesh-and-blood body was merely his illusion.

"What does that even mean?!"

And beyond the bed, at the far end of the bedroom, where a wall should have been, there was only an open, boundless darkness—as if it led to some distant and deep space. The floor, walls, and ceiling were fragmented here, and chaotic, dark shadows and countless flickering lights slowly rose and fell, transforming into bizarre illusions that stirred silently at the end of the bedroom, whispering in the darkness.

"What are you going to do?" the new servant asked cautiously.

"Go, push open this door and pay your respects to the mistress."

With each step he took up the stairs, he felt a growing mix of conviction and hesitation. At first, he vaguely remembered that he did not belong here. Then, he only remembered that he seemed to be trapped in a strange mansion. By the time he was only a few steps away from the second floor, he only remembered the butler's instructions—

The body stood straight before the stairs, the tuxedo impeccable, the corner of a folded handkerchief visible in the breast pocket, and the fine gold chain of a pocket watch peeking out from the other side. One of his hands held a copper bell, while the other reached behind him—in this posture, he resembled a butler welcoming newcomers, a trusted head servant in charge of the mansion.

The new servant nodded and turned to walk toward the door.

Figures in servant and maid uniforms were busily moving about the hall. These were obviously the servants tending to the huge mansion. As they passed the stairwell, they would stop, seemingly curious to observe the newcomer.

His steps were steady, and his expression gradually calmed. His limbs moved, finally becoming as stiff as those of the servants in the hall. He arrived before the door, reached out with both hands, and calmly surveyed the spherical joints of his wrists—He exerted a slight force, and pushed the door open.

In the elegant bedroom, which could only be described as enormous, a magnificent bed was placed in the center of the room, surrounded by ornate draperies and tasseled curtains. A silver-haired doll lay quietly on the bed, fast asleep.

The new servant, transformed into a doll, stood in the doorway of the bedroom, staring blankly at the beautiful doll sleeping on the bed, and the darkness undulating behind the doll—Then, it bent over and respectfully paid its respects to the mistress.

"…I don't know," Alice blinked, looking back somewhat blankly, "Hmm… maybe?"

"Does that mean the captain will be dissatisfied?"

Were there so many people here before? Was the hall so silent when I first arrived?

But I have no head. On this body wearing a black tuxedo, there is only a bare neck, as if… the connecting joint of a doll.

This surging darkness and light were like the doll's bizarre dreams, or like the formless things trying to invade the mansion, blocked from reality by the doll's sleep.

"Serve our mistress, become a part of this place, and you will naturally know what to do, but before that, you should first greet the mistress…"

It was a figure wearing a black tuxedo—a headless body.

A figure suddenly appeared here.

His mind became increasingly muddled, and more and more memories were being extracted from his body, as if those things that were "no longer needed" were impurities that were preventing him from fulfilling his duties as a servant in this mansion.

"Thump—"

"Crash—"

He turned back in astonishment, looking at the scene in the hall—

But the servant's face would never show any expression again.

Some faint threads extended from his limbs, floating in the air, and then disappeared in an instant.