Forbidden Rules

I slipped into a room that looked like the master's study. It was filled with various antiques: a gold-inlaid globe, several seemingly priceless oil paintings, and a massive safe embedded in the wall.

My eyes lit up instantly, my breathing quickening.

I walked to the safe and examined it closely. It was an old-fashioned combination lock, and for an old gambler like me, cracking it was only a matter of time. My ears were extremely sensitive to subtle sounds.

Holding my breath, I pressed my ear to the cold steel door and began to slowly turn the dial.

Click... clack...

Minutes ticked by, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead. Just as I was about to crack the third number, a cold voice spoke from behind me, like a wind from a tomb.

"Mr. Nick, what are you looking for?"

My entire body went stiff. I slowly turned my head. The butler was standing less than a meter away, his pupil-less eyes locked on me, as if he had been waiting there all along.

My heart dropped, but I immediately plastered a fawning smile on my face. "Ah, Mr. Butler! I was just admiring the exquisite decor of this study. You know me, I have a taste for all things artistic."

I was a natural liar, not a hint of a blush on my face.

The butler looked at me expressionlessly, then at the safe behind me.

"This is the master's study. According to the rules, guests are not permitted to enter without permission." His voice was devoid of any emotion.

I cursed him internally. What damn rules? That scrap of paper never said anything about this. He was adding it on the spot, trying to bluff me.

"Oh, my sincerest apologies!" I exclaimed, slapping my forehead dramatically. "Look at my memory, I must have been distracted when you were announcing the rules. I'll leave right now, right now."

I chattered on, trying to slip past him.

But he extended an arm, blocking my path. His hand was pale and cold, his nails impeccably trimmed, glowing with a bluish-white sheen.

"Mr. Nick," he began slowly, "you seem to have your own unique interpretation of the 'rules'."

My heart skipped a beat. He knows?

"You must be joking," I chuckled nervously. "I, Nick, am the most law-abiding, rule-respecting person you'll ever meet."

"Is that so?" The stiff curve returned to the butler's lips. "In that case, as a small penalty for unintentionally trespassing in the master's study, please do me a small favor."

He pointed to a large object in the corner, covered by a velvet cloth.

"Please, unveil the cloth from that mirror."

I followed his finger. It was a massive, full-length mirror, taller than me, with an ornate silver frame that glinted strangely in the dim light.

Alarm bells screamed in my head.

Mirrors, in stories like this, were never a good thing. This request was definitely a trap.

But he had me cornered. Refusing could lead to a fate worse than Mike's.

My eyes darted around, and a plan came to mind.

"Of course, it would be my honor to assist you," I agreed readily, slowly walking towards the mirror.

My hand grasped the corner of the cloth, but my mind was racing. He tells me to unveil it, so I just unveil it? That would be a blow to my pride. According to our "prohibition" theory, his requests had to be reversed. But how? Refusing directly was the path Mike took—a dead end. Stall for time?

I had it!

I spun around abruptly, a look of sheer terror on my face, and yelled, pointing behind the butler, "Ah! What is that!"

It was the oldest trick in the book, but against a non-emotive "program" like him, it was often the most effective.

The butler, as expected, instinctively glanced back.

The moment he turned, I didn't unveil the cloth. Instead, with lightning speed, I grabbed a heavy brass inkwell from a nearby desk and hurled it at the mirror with all my strength!

If his goal is for me to 'see' the mirror, then not only will I not see it, I'll destroy it! I'll disrupt his entire setup!

THUD!

The inkwell didn't shatter the mirror. It passed through the cloth and made a dull impact. A shrill, inhuman scream erupted from within the mirror, as if I had struck something vital.

The cloth covering the mirror began to shake violently, something thrashing wildly underneath.

The butler spun back around. For the first time, a crack appeared on his eternally placid, zombie-like face. It was a mixture of fury and astonishment.

"What have you done!" he shrieked, his voice turning sharp.

"Me? I'm helping you clean." I spread my hands, the picture of innocence. "I saw some dust on the mirror and thought I'd wipe it for you, but my hand slipped. Oh, Mr. Butler, please don't dock my pay for this."

While he was stunned, I slipped past him and bolted out of the study without looking back.

Behind me, I could feel the butler's murderous gaze and hear the weakening wails coming from the mirror.

I had succeeded.

I had not only survived but turned the tables on him. I had gambled correctly—the "prohibition" theory worked.

But I had also thoroughly enraged the embodiment of this manor's order. The rest of the game would surely be even more perilous.

I ran all the way back to the grand hall. Evelyn was just coming out of the library, her face pale but her eyes gleaming with a hint of excitement.

"I found it!" she whispered, handing me a piece of paper she had traced from a book. "It was in the lining of a red book. I traced it with a pencil. Look!"

I took the paper. It was a crude map of the manor. In the center, a beating heart was drawn, with a few words next to it:

"At midnight, when the thirteenth bell tolls, with blood as the catalyst, the mirror gate shall open."

Thirteen tolls? But the clock tower only struck twelve times a night.

"That's impossible..." Evelyn said. "The clock is mechanical. How could it strike an extra time?"

I looked at the map, then thought back to what had just happened in the study. The mirror... the mirror gate...

"No, it's possible," I said gravely. "What if the thirteenth toll isn't for the living to hear?"

We both fell silent.

The truth was getting closer, but so was the danger.

"Tonight at midnight, we settle this," I said. "We need to prepare. Blood, and... a mirror."

I thought of the mirror I had struck. That was likely the key "gate."

"But, the butler..." Evelyn said with concern.

"He's probably more nervous than we are right now," I sneered. I had destroyed one of his important game pieces, and now he was surely scrambling to fix it. And that was our opportunity.

As dusk fell, it was time for dinner.

Evelyn and I went to the dining room again. The butler was already waiting. His face was even paler than before, and his eyes were filled with undisguised venom as he looked at me.

Tonight's dinner consisted of only one course—a bowl of crystal-clear soup.

"Please, dine," the butler said, pushing the bowls towards us.

I looked into the soup. There was nothing in it but my own reflection, and the reflection's lips seemed to be curled into a strange, eerie smile.

I understood immediately. Drinking this soup would surely lead to something awful. I couldn't drink it. But I also couldn't refuse it directly like Mike.

I lifted the bowl, an expression of ecstasy on my face. "What a fragrant soup! This must be made from the finest spring water in the manor, yes?"

As I spoke, I "accidentally" let my hand tremble, and the entire bowl of soup spilled onto the tablecloth in front of me.

"Oh, dear!" I cried out in feigned dismay. "How clumsy of me! I was so excited, I've wasted your kind effort. Mr. Butler, I am truly deserving of death!"

My acting was worthy of an Oscar.

The butler's jaw twitched. He stared at me, as if trying to flay me with his eyes.

Evelyn followed my lead and also "accidentally" spilled her soup.

The butler was silent for a few seconds, then spoke slowly. "It seems our guests have no appetite tonight. In that case, please enjoy your final night at the manor."

He turned and left.

After he was gone, I immediately checked the soaked tablecloth. The fabric was being eaten away at a visible rate, emitting wisps of green smoke.

A close call.

"He wants to kill us," Evelyn said, her heart still pounding.

"He always has," I said, looking at the sky, now completely dark. "Are you ready? Tonight, we're going to ring that thirteenth bell."

With half an hour to midnight, Evelyn and I slipped out of our rooms. The candles in the corridor still burned, stretching our shadows long and thin, like two furtive thieves.

According to the map, the clock tower was on the top floor of the manor. The staircase leading to it was blocked by a massive iron gate.

"It's locked," Evelyn said, pushing against it to no avail.

"Allow me." I pulled a few pre-prepared lock picks from my pocket. Lockpicking was one of my many talents.

Under my manipulation, the formidable-looking ancient lock gave a soft click and opened.

We pushed the gate open. A cold wind, smelling of dust and rust, hit our faces. The steps to the clock tower were narrow and steep, spiraling upwards endlessly.

We climbed carefully, one after the other. Each step felt like treading on the bones of history.

Finally, we reached the top of the clock tower. A massive ancient bell hung in the center, surrounded by four giant clock faces overlooking the entire manor.

"How do we make it strike thirteen times?" Evelyn asked, looking helplessly at the complex machinery.

I glanced at a clock on the wall. Ten minutes to midnight.

"No need to understand mechanics," I said. "Since this is a 'prohibition,' the method must be brutally simple, something we'd never think of."

I circled the giant bell, tapping its side and examining the suspended clapper. Suddenly, my eyes were drawn to something I had previously overlooked—a complex sigil drawn on the floor in silver powder.

"Look there," I pointed. "That's the key."

The minutes ticked by.

DONG—

The first toll, heavy and long.

My heart and Evelyn's were in our throats. We could feel the "gaze" of the entire manor focusing on this clock tower.

DONG—DONG—DONG—

The bells struck our nerves, one by one.

"...Eleven... TWELVE!"

As the echo of the final toll still hung in the air, Evelyn immediately stepped onto one of the nodes of the sigil, just as it instructed.

"Nick, hurry! The other node!" she urged.

I didn't move.

My gaze was fixed on her hand, hidden behind her back. In it, she was tightly gripping a crowbar.

"Evelyn," I smiled, a smile as cold as ice. "Did you really think I didn't notice you stopped being yourself a while ago?"

"Evelyn's" face changed instantly.

"Your eyes were wrong, ever since you came out of the library," I said, slowly pacing like a wolf that had cornered its prey. "Evelyn is a scholar. Her excitement is restrained. Yours was naked greed. That's an emotion I know better than anyone. Also, in the dining room, the way you spilled your soup was too clumsy. Not like an intellectual woman, more like... an impostor."

"Evelyn's" face began to twist, her skin rippling like melting wax, until it reformed into my own face. A Nick identical to me, wearing my most familiar, cunning, and greedy smile.

It was the mirror from the study!

I hadn't shattered it, only injured what was inside. It had remembered my face and, at some point, replaced the real Evelyn!

"Truly worthy of being me," the mirror demon said in my voice, a tone of admiration in its words. "A pity you found out too late."

"Is that so?" I sneered. "Did you really think I came here to ring the thirteenth bell?"

I whipped something out from my coat—the red book I had picked up from the library floor, the one Mike had traded his life for.

"'With blood as the catalyst'..." I flipped open the book and pointed at the words. "Did you think it meant my blood? No. It meant the Master's blood. And this book was written in it!"

The moment I produced the book, the mirror demon's face contorted in horror.

"You liar!" it shrieked, lunging at me.

"Takes one to know one!" I laughed, slamming the book down onto the center of the sigil!

The instant the book made contact, the entire clock tower let out a sound completely different from before—a sharp, piercing roar.

The thirteenth bell toll echoed to the heavens.

But it wasn't to open the treasury gate. It was for me.

The sigil erupted in a blinding white light. An invisible force violently threw the mirror demon against the wall, where it let out a pained scream. I, on the other hand, was enveloped by another force and vanished from the clock tower in an instant.

...

I felt myself being pulled through a cold, viscous tunnel before landing heavily on the ground.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a space beyond imagination.

Gold. Mountains of gold. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds... countless jewels were scattered on the floor like cheap glass beads, their brilliance blinding. The air was thick with the unique, intoxicating fragrance of money.

This... this was the Endless Treasury!

I did it! I won! I, Nick, was the final victor!

I laughed manically, diving into a pile of gold coins, scooping up handfuls of the cold, real wealth. I buried my face in it, greedily inhaling the most wonderful scent in the world.

I had beaten Evelyn, beaten Mike, beaten that damn butler, and even beaten the impostor!

Excitedly, I tried to grab a handful of diamonds to stuff in my pockets, only to find my hand passed right through them.

I froze.

I reached out again, trying to grasp a fistful of gold coins. My hand, once more, passed through the golden mountain without any resistance.

The gold, the jewels, the mountains of wealth... they were all there, radiating their tempting light, but I... I couldn't touch them.

They were like the most realistic mirage.

I stood up in terror and looked around. There were no doors, no windows, just endless, glittering wealth in every direction.

Then, the air in front of me rippled, forming a massive mirror.

In the mirror was the manor's study.

The mirror demon I had exposed was standing there. Its body twisted and reformed back into the scholar with the gold-rimmed glasses—Evelyn. She straightened her clothes, a tired but victorious smile on her face.

The butler stood beside her, respectfully handing her a brass key.

"Congratulations, Ms. Evelyn," the butler's voice was as emotionless as ever. "You successfully found the 'Heart of the Manor'—the impostor hidden in the mirror—and used the greedy gambler to sacrifice it, thus purifying the manor. This is your rightful reward, the key to the Endless Treasury."

Evelyn took the key and glanced at the mirror in the air, in my direction. Her eyes held a hint of pity.

"What will happen to him?" she asked.

"He will become the new guardian of the treasury," the butler replied. "He now possesses all the wealth he ever craved, yet he can never touch it. His greed will become his eternal prison. It is the most perfect judgment for one who values profit over loyalty."

I understood.

From the very beginning, I was the chosen sacrifice.

Evelyn's intelligence, Mike's recklessness, Lily's fear—they were all just part of the stage dressing. Only my greed, my smug cleverness, my smooth-talking nature, were the perfect fuel to activate this final trap.

I thought I was exploiting the rules, but in reality, the rules were exploiting my very nature.

I didn't find the "Heart of the Manor." I was the sacrifice for it.

The image in the mirror vanished.

I was left alone, with this endless, cold, and forever untouchable treasury.

I knelt on the ground, surrounded by enough wealth to buy the world. I could see it, smell it, feel its cold light upon me.

But I could have none of it.

Like a madman, I threw myself at the golden hills again and again, only to pass through the phantoms time after time.

What was my creed again?

"There's nothing in this world that money can't solve, and money you can trade your life for is even better money."

Now, I had all the money in the world.

And I had traded my life for it, forever.

I had become a ghost imprisoned by my own desire, a pauper guarding the world's riches.

Every day, I see the wealth that drove me mad.

And every day, I know with perfect clarity that not a single cent of it belongs to me.

This was the final, and most vicious...

Crimson Prohibition.