Chapter 64
Of course, in the workings of the world, there are far more events born of inexplicable coincidence and choice than those with clear causes and effects that anyone could understand. Nevertheless, the hypothesis that the stranger had seduced the Marquis was so preposterous that the idea of Oscar having forced himself upon her felt much more plausible.
Yes… that was far more likely.
Barbara’s gaze drifted toward Oscar. Seeing his profile as he smoked, she was reminded of him the previous evening—how he had stopped mid-stride on the stairs to stare down at the floor below.
The elderly wolf’s eyes gleamed as she threw out a sharp question.
“Shall I send the target to Traun with Abel Sting today, as you instructed last night?”
“…….”
Oscar did not answer.
For some reason, it felt as though a low rumble of thunder was echoing from far away. It was as if a massive dark cloud, heavy with rain, was slowly approaching a desolate desert where not a single blade of grass grew. A desert, lacking even a drainage system let alone trees, would easily flood with even the slightest bit of rain.
Just then, someone knocked on the office door, and Barbara immediately checked the visitor.
“It is Simon.”
Oscar flicked his finger, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. When Barbara opened the door, Simon von Bernheim entered the office, his hair perfectly groomed.
He offered a polite greeting to Oscar, who was rinsing his mouth with water, and then got straight to the point as he usually did.
“There is something I failed to report last night.”
Oscar set down his water glass and looked up at him.
“It is a report from the backup team. Since it wasn’t seen directly and hasn’t been verified, it isn’t certain, but it seems there is a possibility that something made contact with the target in the crowd yesterday.”
At that, Oscar, who had been leaning casually against the windowsill, straightened up.
“Something made contact?”
“When the distance between Abel Sting and the target suddenly widened, they observed movements that were difficult to attribute simply to being swept away by the crowd.”
“Continue.”
“First, the direction the target moved was opposite to the flow of the crowd. Furthermore, in the glimpses they caught, she didn’t seem to be walking on her own accord, but rather appeared to be dragged by someone.”
“…….”
It would have been better if he had simply mocked them fiercely, saying everyone’s edges had dulled. The silence that enveloped Oscar was that unsettling.
It was Barbara who broke the heavy stillness. Carefully placing a cup of steaming coffee in front of Oscar, she repeated the question she had asked before.
“Shall I send the target to Traun with Abel Sting today?”
Even though the same question had been asked twice, Oscar remained silent.
He merely glanced at Barbara once before tilting his head to stare at the coffee she had brought. For a long time, he seemed lost in thought, staring into the liquid as if seeing something within it. Finally, with a languid exhale, he seemed to reach a decision.
Oscar ran a hand through his hair with a dismissive gesture and stood up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. He spoke low.
“Put it on hold.”
Then, without touching the coffee, he brushed past Barbara. She bowed deeply toward him, and Simon followed after his master.
Left alone in the massive office, Barbara straightened her back and turned toward the window.
The dim dawn was coming to an end. It was time for bright, cheerful light to pour in, yet it remained dark outside. Eventually, Oscar and Simon appeared at the mansion entrance and boarded a carriage. As the carriage carrying them slowly descended toward the Annex…
Barbara’s eyes turned toward the sky, which was the exact color of her hair.
The dark sky finally began to drop beads of rain.
Leaving the mansion on that rainy early morning, Oscar headed straight for the main office.
There was a mountain of work accumulated from his consecutive schedules since Pelfe. There were at least several hundred documents awaiting his approval, and several internal meetings he was required to attend.
Entering his office at the headquarters, Oscar draped his jacket over the sofa and sat down with practiced ease. As if determined not to waste a single second, he immediately pulled the topmost document toward him and began flipping through it with rapid movements.
“Then, I shall head to my office as well.”
Simon also had as much pending work as Oscar, but his desire to put some distance between himself and his master was even greater. He offered a polite bow and turned to leave, but his master’s voice caught him from behind.
“Report number 2021.”
Simon’s body immediately snapped back toward his master.
“Bring it.”
Oscar continued, his eyes fixed on the documents.
“Still no word from Theresia Bitkenstein?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Don’t just tell me there’s no contact. Give me a detailed report—what her current route is, and if she’s unreachable, why. Give me your best deduction.”
“My apologies.”
“Bring every single report Theresia Bitkenstein ever submitted. Bring the translated version of Seo-ah Han’s identification as well.”
“Understood.”
A short while later.
The employees at the headquarters tilted their heads in confusion as they watched Simon von Bernheim sprinting down the hallway like a madman. Born of a different pedigree than the average wolf and possessing a title of his own, he was a man who never ran unless he was on a battlefield.
Seeing Simon running as if he were in the middle of a war, many found it a rare and fascinating sight, but a few experienced veterans immediately ducked away and clicked their tongues.
“Today, this place is the battlefield.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’m telling you, Bernheim only runs on a battlefield.”
“…….”
“But look. He’s running, isn’t he?”
It meant that today, this place was a shambles, a war zone, and a grave.
A shambles, a war zone, a grave.
None of those words had a pleasant ring to them; they were all ominous.
Simon detested shambles and war zones alike, and he had absolutely no desire to be buried for something that wasn’t his fault. In the blink of an eye, he scraped together all the materials Oscar had requested and presented them.
However, Oscar merely processed his paperwork at a terrifying speed, not even glancing at the materials Simon had brought. It remained that way afterward. He didn’t smoke or even drink coffee. Despite having arrived without breakfast, he skipped snacks and lunch, immersing himself entirely in his work.
As a result, the mountain of documents that seemed like it would never end diminished rapidly, yet the materials Simon had brought remained untouched. It was only after Oscar had finished every single task scheduled for the day that he finally turned his attention to those documents.
By the time he returned to his office after the final meeting, the surroundings were dark. It wasn’t just because of the hour; the rain that had started that morning showed no sign of stopping, falling even more violently instead.
Oscar pulled a cigarette from his desk drawer, placed it between his lips, and lit it. Then, he opened the window behind his desk.
The world, shrouded in a thick mist, was dyed entirely in shades of gray. Through the gray world, blurred streaks of rain fell with a clamorous roar, and the damp humidity drifting through the open window felt like a wet tongue licking his dry cheek.
Rain itself evoked an unpleasant impression.
It wasn’t just the weather; the memories associated with such weather were so distasteful that he even avoided business trips to countries like Herot where it rained frequently.
But today, the unpleasantness brought on by the weather felt like nothing.
By nature, desire is never clean. Desire was always wretched. Whether it was the lust for honor or the thirst for revenge, it was all the same—and sexual desire was no exception. The fact that he had sated that desire on the very woman who had brought the key was, even upon second thought, absurd.
What was even more absurd was…
“…Ugh, …ah.”
That the sound of her pained moans seemed stuck in his ears.
The woman had been in such pain she didn’t know what to do with herself. Yet, she hadn’t said it hurt, except for that very first time. Later, she had gone limp as if she didn’t even have the strength to lift a hand.
Even so, she had stayed still. She hadn’t even asked him to stop.
The tip of his cigarette glowed a fierce red. The hazy smoke was pushed back inside by the wind blowing through the gap in the window. His retinas captured the mist-shrouded world, but a different scene unfolded before Oscar’s eyes.
He could almost see the woman, completely limp, letting out nothing but thin, ragged breaths. The woman who had struggled so hard to cover her chest, only to eventually lose the strength to even do that.
As the scenes from yesterday resurfaced, he felt the blood rush south once again.
