The Strongest Curse Master-Chapter 411: Pee-Pee Pickles

"Okay, huddle up. The Origins of Pickles is about to start," I announced.

Tall Lyra stood behind Janice, while I positioned myself between Janice and Mandy as I prepared to play the video. But the moment Mandy saw the thumbnail, she exclaimed, "That’s baby Pickles! She’s so cute in that panda onesie!"

"Aww, it’s Baby Panda Pickles—that’s cuteness overload," Lyra added, unable to resist fawning over young Janice, who looked around six or seven years old.

An unconscious smile crept onto Janice’s face as she listened to them gush over her baby picture. Deep down, she believed that with her family’s support, she could’ve had a successful career as a child actor.

"Okay, settle down. I’m going to play the video," I said, pressing the play button—wiping the smile right off Janice’s face.

"What’s happening?" Lyra asked, watching the security footage of the McSuile Mansion storage room, which appeared to house barrels of wine stacked on each other, fat wheels of Gouda on rows of shelves, massive jars of pickles on the aisles between the shelves, huge cured ham legs hanging from the ceiling, and more.

"That’s my family’s kitchen cellar," Janice explained. "It mostly holds cooking ingredients we use daily—nothing special."

She said it casually, though she knew full well that average homes didn’t have an entire cellar dedicated to preserving bulk quantities of food.

But Mandy cut in, pointing at the screen. "Is that a raccoon?"

"No, a small panda," I corrected, just as the footage switched angles, revealing the intruder’s face.

It was young Janice in her adorable panda onesie. She waddled straight to a big wheel of Gouda on a low shelf and bit into it—only to recoil in disappointment when her milk teeth couldn’t pierce the food-grade wax coating.

Young Janice didn’t cry or give up. Instead, she began licking the Gouda. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy her hunger, so she set her sights on the wine barrels and anything else she could reach—only to discover she couldn’t eat any of it.

Soon, hearing footsteps, young Janice hid behind one of the shelves. A servant had entered the cellar to refill a small pickle jar. It looked like the massive jar had nearly hit bottom, so he fetched a step stool, climbed up, and leaned over to scoop some pickles from the bottom.

"What are you doing?" Mandy asked, confused. In the video, young Janice didn’t look like the pampered princess of the McSuile family. She looked more like a beggar girl who had broken into the McSuile mansion.

"I had just learned about the non-violence movement and hunger strikes from the southeastern part of the world," Janice explained. "I tried using that logic to get out of daily homework, but my mother wasn’t having it. She told me I wouldn’t get food unless I asked for it.

"Turns out, I couldn’t even tolerate skipping one meal. So, in all my pride, my younger self decided to raid the kitchen cellar for food."

She spoke calmly, though it was clear she was bracing for the dreadful part of the video she wished had never existed.

"You’re kidding, right? Non-violence movements and hunger strikes are taught in middle school," Lyra pointed out.

Janice simply nodded. "I was a fast learner from a young age—skipped a few grades."

"A few grades?" Lyra started to say, wanting to point out that Janice hadn’t just skipped a few grades—she’d practically skipped kindergarten, all of primary school, and most of middle school.

Before she could finish, her brother shushed her. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

"Shh! Here comes the best part."

Since the servant’s hands were full with the kitchen pickle jar, he failed to secure the lid of the massive jar properly and didn’t remove the step stool either.

Young Janice’s eyes sparkled with greedy delight when she saw the stool left right by the jar. She quickly climbed up, pushed the lid open, and tried to peek inside. It was dark, but the smell was heavenly—especially to someone running on an empty stomach.

She reached in, hoping to scoop out some delicious pickles, only to find she couldn’t reach them. So she stood on her tiptoes and stretched—then lost her balance and tumbled into the jar.

Fortunately, a thick layer of pickles cushioned her fall.

"Aaah!" Young Janice’s cry echoed through the cellar, but the sound never made it past the heavy stone walls to the kitchen above.

"Ack! It’s so sour!" Her muffled voice came from inside the jar, confirming that if she had time to taste and complain about the pickles, then she was doing fine.

She stood up, soaked in brine, only to realize she was now completely stuck. Panic set in, but pride and fear kept her from calling for help.

"That’s it. Now you know where the name ’Pickles’ came from," I said as I ended the video and slipped my phone back into my pocket, having fast-forwarded to the part where young Janice was finally rescued by the servants.

"How long were you in that jar?" Mandy asked, feeling genuinely sorry that her bestie had to go through something like that.

"About an hour or so—until the servant came back to get ingredients for lunch," Janice replied, a faint glint of relief in her eyes.

Thanks to the brine covering her younger self, her friends couldn’t tell that young Janice had peed herself while stuck inside the jar. The worst part? Even though the pickles were too sour for her young taste buds—and mixed with her own pee—she still ate them to satisfy her hunger. That’s when her cousin gave her the nickname Pee-Pee Pickles. They only left her alone when someone purposefully spread the rumors about Elinor being a curse-caster in the mansion.

Janice couldn’t help but glance at Ace with quiet gratitude, knowing he had edited out the part where the servants mentioned the smell of pee in the cellar before discovering her in the jar.

"Is it too early to joke about it?" Lyra asked cautiously. "I mean, I know that could’ve turned into a tragedy, but... that was funny, right?"

It was impressive that she had managed to hold back her laughter throughout the video.

But before anyone could respond, the entire room suddenly began flashing red—like one giant alarm buzzer.

Seeing this, Janice immediately turned to Ace.

"Someone’s attacking our array formation," she said, her tone shifting to serious.

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