Chapter 42
Naturally, there was no reason to mention how much he had intimidated her or the verbal abuse he had hurled during the process.
“At approximately 12:25 PM, we moved from Pal Pien Market to Noteheim Cemetery, arriving at the cemetery around 4:50 PM.”
“There’s a significant gap between the moment you identified the source and the time you moved to the cemetery,” Simon noted as he listened.
“It took time to dissuade her from going to the cemetery for safety reasons.”
Let’s set aside the fact that this ‘dissuasion’ was a festival of death threats and sacrilegious insults involving her parents and ancestors. To Abel Sting, that fell well within the definition of dissuasion.
“And what exactly did you do to end up looking like this?”
Only then did Abel’s expression, which had been confident throughout, falter slightly.
Sitting on the edge of the desk, Oscar’s gaze swept up Abel’s entire body. The image of the disheveled Seo-ah overlapped with him. It seemed the two of them had been up to the same thing.
“You said the purpose was to return the flowers. But how did she know which grave they were taken from?”
As he heard Oscar’s question, the horrific landscape of Noteheim Cemetery unfolded before Abel’s eyes like a phantom vision.
Early winter had already arrived at the gravesites.
The dirt paths froze at night and melted into a soggy mess during the day, creating slippery slopes.
“Among all these headstones, how do you expect to know which one had its flowers stolen so you can return them?”
He had asked with as much professional dedication as he could muster, but the naive foreigner was already wandering the cemetery, muttering to herself.
“…562 graves, and there are 102 flowers, so if I buy 460 more…”
Hearing those words, a chill ran down his spine, making his hair stand on end.
“You’re not seriously planning to put flowers on every single one of these headstones, are you?”
The moment he saw her head drop, he felt a surge of irritation, thinking that even cursing at her would be a waste of breath.
What a gr-eat idea. How precious.
“Go on then, get to work. It looks like the ghosts are waiting with their chins propped up to receive their flowers, doesn’t it?”
At that, the target’s face brightened as she looked up.
“Yes, of course! Please sit here for a moment.”
Even if someone couldn’t take a hint, she was on another level.
“Does it look like there’s anywhere to sit here?”
“Oh…”
Startled by his harsh words, she fumbled through her bag, pulled out a cheap handkerchief, and spread it over a flat stone.
“Even if it’s just here, for a moment…”
Abel looked at the handkerchief on the stone and then back at Seo-ah. Her eyes were swollen and red from silent crying, and though she couldn’t even meet his gaze, she forced a smile.
“I’m sorry. I’ll finish this quickly.”
The naive foreigner, who didn’t even realize an insult was an insult, trudged diligently along the path where her feet sank into the mud.
And then…
“She placed flowers on every single grave in the cemetery.”
Was it just flowers? Someone might have mistaken her for the groundskeeper. She had even brushed away the layers of fallen leaves from the headstones with her bare hands. If they had more time, she probably would have carried a towel around to wipe them down.
“Buying the missing flowers?”
“Yes.”
Oscar stared at his subordinate’s exhausted face and let out a laugh.
“And you helped her.”
A man who was obsessed with his clothes, staying until his outfit ended up in this state.
“…I felt like we wouldn’t have made it back today if I didn’t help.”
“Do you think you can manage for a month?”
The subtle cracks in Abel Sting’s expression finally shattered. Oscar unfastened a few buttons at his collar, feeling stifled, and asked.
“Are you giving up?”
At that question, Abel held his breath as if faced with the greatest dilemma of his life.
If he succeeded, he could stop playing the seducer, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d have to frequent that godforsaken market.
If he gave up, he’d have to keep playing the seducer, but he could quit following her around that hellish market immediately.
Suddenly, he felt that being a seducer suited his aptitude.
What would he do if he quit? Search and rescue, or combat, involved moving in teams, which came with many annoyances. Compared to that, operating alone as a seducer was better.
But then he realized this assumption was purely his own. Oscar had only promised a change in position based on his success.
“…If I give up, do I not have to follow her anymore?”
“No.”
Looking at Abel, who seemed ready to die, Oscar felt a mix of amusement and curiosity.
Abel was one of the intelligence agents currently evaluated to be at the peak of his abilities. Since the target was secured regardless of Abel’s personal success, Oscar had given him the leeway to work without overexerting himself.
But even so.
“Don’t let her lead you around so much. I called you to coax her and lead her where we want, not to be dragged around like a fool.”
At Oscar’s low voice, Abel’s expression hardened, and he bowed deeply.
“I will keep that in mind.”
Fatigue washed over him. Oscar swept his hair back with a languid hand and gave the order to leave.
“You may go.”
Simon bowed slightly and turned to leave, and Abel straightened up to follow him. The backup agent followed them out, but Barbara remained behind as if she had something to say.
Seeing this, the atmosphere around Oscar sank. There was usually only one reason Barbara would ignore an order and stay.
Sure enough, as soon as the door closed, that name was mentioned.
“This morning, the Marchioness sent word to Your Excellency.”
“Why?”
“Regarding the birthday party for Count Jerome’s daughter…”
“She never stops, does she.”
His words struck like a killing frost against Barbara’s cheek.
“…She sent a message asking you to attend the Count’s daughter’s birthday party, and I replied that it would be difficult as Your Excellency is currently away.”
“The necklace she asked me to buy as an engagement gift for the King. How much was it?”
“It was 7.18 billion Kerete.”
“7.18 billion.”
Oscar let out a low laugh and finally put a cigarette to his lips again. He thought he had cleared his head with the cold wind, but acrid smoke filled his lungs once more.
“It seems the Marchioness will be visiting the Reinhardt Mansion soon.”
Oscar smoked in silence before crushing the cigarette into the ashtray and muttering.
“I suppose being shameless and greedy is hereditary.”
Coldness and loathing overflowed from every syllable.
He walked toward the dressing room connected to the drawing room, unbuttoning his shirt. Just before entering, he looked back at Barbara over his shoulder.
“7.18 billion. Charge it as a business expense.”
Barbara held her breath at his sharp gaze. Though she hadn’t raised him with motherly love, she was the one who had fed and sheltered the lone wolf cub. Even though he was a wolf she had raised with her own hands, that look terrified her.
“That way, I can calculate the profit and loss later.”
The voice, tinged with a languid smile, was frightening.
Barbara bowed her head deeply, and Oscar disappeared into the darkened room.
The dressing room, devoid of a single ray of light, was plunged into pitch-black darkness, but Oscar’s steps didn’t falter in the slightest. With every step, a piece of clothing fell to the floor.
The bathroom adjoining the dressing room was like the bottom of a mine. The bathroom, where cold and humid air flowed, was likewise shrouded in darkness.
With familiar strides, Oscar walked toward the tub and immersed himself in the cold water that had been prepared for him.
Sometimes, he had this thought.
That he wanted to slice open his chest, take out his lungs and heart, and wash them in crystal clear, freezing water.
The cold water rose to his throat. Not satisfied with that, he submerged himself completely, like a man sinking beneath the surface.
Water flowed into his ears.
Beneath the water, where nothing could be heard or seen.
Oscar relaxed his entire body. He exhaled a long breath. He couldn’t inhale again, but he felt at peace.
The sensation, cold enough to stop his heart, numbed his other senses. The stifling feeling that made him want to rip his chest open, the fire burning from an unknown source—he could forget it all in this moment.
He floated there as if dead, abandoning himself to the water and forgetting everything about life, only rising when he reached the threshold of death.
A glamorous death, a statue and a name that would remain forever.
The peace he felt only in freezing water where he couldn’t breathe.
What a pathetic life it was.
Oscar leaned against the cold stone tub, roughly wiping the water dripping from his face. Only when the ice-cold water no longer felt cold did he step out of the tub, wash himself, and enter the bedroom.
Even though it was his own bedroom, he checked it out of habit.
To see if anything was different, if there was any unexpected presence.
Oscar’s gaze, which had been coldly surveying the luxurious and historic Marquis’s bedroom, turned toward a certain spot.
