It was midnight, and the servants slept in their cramped quarters outside the main manor. Only the guards remained awake now, enduring their forced vigil.
Ten months had passed since that cursed window's mission began. Not a single day went by without me seeing its ominous interface. Slowly, I was forced to accept this wasn't a dream—I had to prepare for its nightmares. So I decided to gather information—from every corner of this manor, from the staff, from the Leonhardt family members (the ones I sarcastically call 'dear relatives').
During this time, I also secretly skimmed through some accessible books—gaining decent general knowledge, though nothing I truly needed.
Still, I spent most of those months strengthening my body, at least enough to crawl properly on all fours. And while it might not seem like much of an achievement, my diet had finally shifted from breast milk to various soups. They said after age two, I could even eat meat! But enough digressions—I shouldn't stray from the main point.
During this time, I also managed to secretly read some readily available books. While I gained some useful general knowledge, it wasn't what I truly needed.
Still, I spent most of that time strengthening my body—at least enough to crawl properly on all fours. It might not seem like much of an achievement, but my diet had finally progressed from breast milk to various soups. They said after age two, I could even eat meat! But I'm getting sidetracked—I should stay focused.
It's nearly midnight. On the floor below, directly beneath my parents' bedroom, lies the manor's private library—accessible only to us: Father, Mother, and me.
I wriggled out of my cradle. Using all the strength in my tiny hands, I slowly, carefully dragged the lightweight chair by the vase toward the door—a move I'd practiced before. This was my premeditated escape plan: stack a pillow on the chair to reach the doorknob.
Peeking through the door crack, I saw what I expected: a guard standing rigidly outside my parents' chamber. Just one minute remained until my golden opportunity would begin.
[69 Dumb Choices]
[Episode 5]
At this hour, the day-shift guards swap with the night watch. For exactly five minutes, no one stands outside my parents' door. That means in those 300 seconds, I have to not only crawl past their chamber undetected but also make it down the stairs—all the way to the library.
My room is roughly 472 inches long. I calculated that at maximum crawling speed, I could cover about 31 inches per second. Unfortunately, the distance to the stairs is approximately 1,960 inches—nearly 50 meters. By that logic, it would take me about a minute just to reach the staircase. If I could manage the whole distance without tiring out.
Finally, the clock struck midnight—not exactly on the dot, but close enough. I watched the guard outside my parents' chamber march away. Time to put my ninja skills to the test!
I scurried forward on all fours as fast as my tiny limbs could carry me. The stone floor of the hallway was unforgiving—my knees ached, and my hands were already black with grime. What the hell do the maids even do here? Why is it so filthy?! I hated getting dirty, but there was no choice. I had roughly two years left until that event. I needed intel.
Lost in thought, trying to steady my nerves, I reached my parents' chamber—the door that made every servant in this manor bow their heads. I wanted to check if they were awake, but there was no time to stop. Without pausing, I crawled past.
Damn it… I'm so wired with adrenaline that I might actually wet my diaper right now! Though, ironically, this is exactly what I'd wished for when that window—no—when life itself first gave me this second chance. A life of thrills and chaos. Still, I think it's all happening way too soon; crawling at 30 inches per second is absolutely wrecking me.
Just as I'd calculated, I reached the stairs in one minute flat. The hardest part yet for a one-year-old. Though exhaustion hit me like a wall—my breathing ragged, my heart pounding wildly—the frantic rhythm in my chest screamed: Get to safety. Now.
Gripping the banister, I carefully lowered one foot onto the step below, then dragged the rest of my body down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. The agonizing slowness of it frayed my nerves. Why was this taking longer than I'd planned?
Finally, I cleared the last step and paused to catch my breath. I had roughly two minutes left—and the library was still 600 inches away.
During those precious ten seconds of rest, I peered down the hallway toward the library door, checking for movement. The wall-mounted candles cast only a dim glow, but it was better than nothing.
I pushed forward again, crawling toward the library at full speed—though I could tell I'd slowed down considerably since the start. Still, I made it just in time, reaching the library doors before the guards returned to their posts. My hands, now black as charcoal, were a small price to pay.
I noticed something odd—the library door was slightly ajar. Not enough to be obvious from a distance, but enough to suggest someone might already be inside. Maybe a servant was still working… or could it be a thief? But why would a thief break into a library?
A chill ran through me. Who would be here at this hour? Still, I'd come too far to turn back now. There was no time to retreat—the guards could return any second. I had to go in.
I had considered using the adjacent room to reach the library. That room connects to the manor's rear courtyard—which is more of an enclosed garden, really—and only has two guards posted, making it an easier route. Plus, the library itself has a secondary entrance from that courtyard, one that's always left open since the space is glass-ceilinged and considered secure. The main door is usually locked… but now…
In the end, I swallowed my fear. After all, I was just a harmless baby—one who couldn't even speak yet. Even if someone spotted me here, they'd dismiss it as childish curiosity. Little did they know, this baby had a hidden blade!
As I stepped inside the library, the silence was absolute—so deep I could hear the distant cries of animals far beyond the manor grounds. Wandering between the towering bookshelves, I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of books. I'd bet Father hasn't read a single one of these. They seemed purely decorative, just another way to boast, "Behold, the great Leonhardt library!"
Where should I even begin? The shelves should be organized—history in one section, scientific texts in another—but there were no labels, no clear system. For all I knew, they were just stacked at random. My best bet was the librarian's desk. If any catalog existed, it'd be there.
When I reached the end of the library shelves, I turned left—but suddenly, I saw a man sitting there at the librarian's desk. Even though an oil lamp was lit in front of him, I couldn't clearly make out his face. As I stepped closer, he abruptly stood up. I nearly had a heart attack!
I quickly hid behind the library shelves so he wouldn't see me. The man held a reed pen with a peacock feather, its tip dipped in ink. He placed it in the inkwell and closed the book he had been writing in. Then, he slid the book into the desk drawer and locked it. At that moment, I was burning with curiosity—what was he doing, and why had he hidden the book in a place that required a special key? He slipped the key into his pocket, picked up the lamp, and turned to leave. With every step he took toward me, his face grew more familiar.
It was my father.
He passed by without noticing me—I was pressed against the bookshelves, hidden in the shadows. When he left the library, he locked the door behind him. Not that it mattered; the back courtyard door I'd used to sneak in was still open. But my father's presence here, in the dead of night, was another mystery I wouldn't solve until I was older.
Now, I stood alone in the vast library. Surrounded by countless unread books—books that might hold answers to all my questions… if they hadn't been altered.