By Zephyria 
Knowing there was no other way, Koi felt a pang of pity that made his nose tingle. It simply pained him that all he could do was watch Bliss.
Soon, the plane left the ground and crossed the sea. From the moment he boarded, Bliss took out his tablet and spent the entire flight staring intently at the screen.
4.
The ancient castle of Count Herringer’s family, located on the outskirts of London, had just entered autumn; the grounds were a colorful tapestry of vivid green leaves and early autumn foliage. Upon arriving by taxi, Bliss looked around the garden that stretched endlessly beyond the bleak, high iron fences. He hoped someone might be passing by, but there was no sign of a human soul anywhere.
…This is a bit scary.
Even though the sun was still high in the sky, he felt an inexplicable chill. Shrugging his shoulders and glancing around, Bliss peeked inside just in case, but it was the same. With a bewildered “Hmm,” he stepped away from the iron gate and looked to the side, where he spotted an old buzzer. After taking a deep breath, he walked to the pillar and pressed it. A sharp, irritable ringing echoed for a long time before silence fell. Waiting in the stillness, Bliss hesitated for a moment.
Should I press it again?
Just as he raised his hand and was about to touch the buzzer, a figure appeared inside. More precisely, it was an elderly man arriving on a buggy. Bliss hurriedly pulled his hand back and stood up straight.
Judging by the soil-stained shirt under his worn overalls, he seemed to be the gardener. After stopping the buggy a short distance from the iron gate, the man walked toward Bliss with slow steps. After scanning Bliss up and down once, the man spoke.
“What brings you here?”
His blunt tone and deeply furrowed brow were full of displeasure, but Bliss didn’t let it bother him. He replied cheerfully with a bright smile.
“Hello. I’m Bli—Blair Carlton, here for the interview at 2 o’clock today. I have an appointment with Mrs. Taylor.”
Perhaps due to nerves, he stumbled over his words. He had almost made a mistake, but the man’s expression didn’t change. The man simply stared at him with a dissatisfied look and let out a short, clicking sound with his tongue.
While Bliss felt inwardly anxious, the man moved and pressed something on the opposite side of the pillar where the buzzer was located. Soon, an ominous ‘clank’ was heard, and the gate slowly began to open. The man had released the lock and opened the door.
“Thank you.”
Relieved, Bliss didn’t forget to offer his thanks as he stepped inside. The man, his face still stiff, pointed toward the buggy and said briefly:
“Get in.”
Having tossed out those words, the man pressed a button on the wall to close the gate again. Leaving behind the ominous sound of the iron bars sliding shut with a creak, creak, he strode over and flopped into the driver’s seat.
Bliss looked around, feeling tense. The mansion he had lived in as a child also had an enormous garden, but that place had always been bustling with people—an open playground where he could run and play all day. He had enjoyed the four seasons there: spring flowers in full bloom, lush green forests in summer, beautiful autumn leaves everywhere, and rolling around in a world of white snow in winter.
But this place was utterly bleak. The garden was well-maintained and beautiful sculptures were placed throughout, so why did it feel so damp and gloomy?
Bliss stole a glance at the sky and wondered. Was it the weather? The cloudy sky with scattered dark clouds was enough to dampen even the usually optimistic Bliss’s mood. But it wasn’t just that. The oppressive humidity in the air, the gargoyle statues perched on the mansion’s exterior walls—which clashed with the elegant, ancient sculptures spaced throughout the garden—and the narrow path where the wheels bounced over sunken patches of earth all contributed to the eerie atmosphere.
Bliss gripped the handle of his bag tightly and held his breath. Seeing the black clouds gathering, he began to worry about the buggy’s lack of a roof. Thinking about whether he should put on his hat, he glanced sideways to see the man driving with the same expression as before. The only sound in the gloomy atmosphere was the engine of the buggy. Eventually, unable to bear it, Bliss spoke first.
“Um, excuse me. Thank you for coming to pick me up. Mr…?”
He was asking for the man’s name, but the man replied bluntly without even looking at him.
“You won’t be staying long anyway, so what do you need my name for?”
“Ha, haha. Hahaha.”
This old man!
Bliss laughed awkwardly on the outside, but inside, he felt a surge of anger. In truth, he had no intention of staying long either. Once he captured Cassian Strickland’s heart and received an apology, he would never, ever, for the rest of his life, look at a haunted house like this again.
But he had to stay until then. He had planned to build some rapport with the servants to gather information, but he had hit a wall right from the start.
If only I could release my pheromones…
The thought suddenly occurred to him, but it was impossible for him now. If a Dominant Omega releases a very small, appropriate amount of pheromones, it relaxes the other person and suppresses hostility. No matter how foul-tempered a person is, they become unable to act out. It was like a magical scent that turned a fierce wild dog into a gentle lamb.
The reason Bliss came to know this was thanks to meeting someone with the same trait as himself.
‘Angel.’
He didn’t know if that was their surname or even their real name. Everyone called them that. ‘We have the same trait, so we’re family.’ Saying so, Angel had scattered pheromones around as if giving a blessing and then ran away. After seeing people become happy, exchanging kind words and reconciling, Bliss came to believe that a moderate amount of pheromones could actually be helpful to people. He thought that one day, he too would like to make everyone happy, just like Angel.
However, there was one catch. If one could not use pheromones as skillfully as Angel, they would cause the other person to undergo a mutation.
Well, that doesn’t apply to me right now anyway…
Having thought that far, Bliss glanced at the seat next to him. The grim-looking man driving the buggy, staring straight ahead, looked to be well over fifty.
If I could use pheromones, would this man have been kind to me?
Since he was far too old to undergo a mutation, there was no concern about that. Bliss imagined himself releasing pheromones and instantly improving the blunt man’s mood. Then it would be easier to hear things, and the atmosphere would be much more comfortable…
‘You mustn’t try to solve things with pheromones.’
Koi’s words suddenly cut through his imagination. True enough, Bliss slumped his shoulders. What was the point of imagining it when it was something he couldn’t do anyway?
Sigh. After letting out a breath, a thought occurred to him.
Come to think of it, did Papa ever use pheromones for the purpose of winning someone’s favor or making things more comfortable?
He was curious, but there was no way to find out. The wind blew endlessly, the gardener beside him continued to say something in an unintelligible accent, and while Bliss agonized over his desire to turn back, the buggy arrived in front of the mansion.
“Wait here.”
As if he had received prior instructions, the gardener took Bliss to a place that looked like a drawing room and then stepped outside. Finally, I’m alone. He let out a sigh of relief and hurried to the mirror hanging on the wall to check himself. Thanks to holding onto the crown of his head the whole way, the wig had remained safely in place. The only problem was that it was terribly disheveled, and the careful styling he’d done was a mess.
Damn this weather!
Complaining, Bliss worked hard to tidy the wig with his hands. But the more he touched it, the worse it got, with no sign of improvement. Eventually, he gave up and checked other things. Only after re-tying his crooked tie and smoothing out his wrinkled shirt and jacket did he finally have the leisure to look around his surroundings.