196 - Chapter 196
Extracurricular Story 18
Noah sat leaning against the sofa, watching Olivia. In her hands was her story, written by Ansen Wilhelm.
The paradise he had built to protect her. He realized in the most terrible way that it was, in fact, hell itself, driving her into the abyss. Noah vowed again and again that he would never make the same mistake again. That was why he had to show her Ansen Wilhelm's writing.
But even as he handed Ansen's writing to Olivia, there was this sincerity in his heart.
Don't read what that bastard wrote, and entrust the handling of that bastard to me... If you would tell me that.
Noah closed his eyes, seeing the demon inside him grinning redly.
Ansen Wilhelm.
He was like a thin thorn stuck in his throat, causing irritating pain whenever he was about to forget him.
He had expected the Pulder court not to give him a great punishment.
Still, probation was too much. The court acquitted Ansen of his crimes with a few pennies in fines, let alone imprisonment.
The intention was obvious.
Rehabilitate for the sake of Pulder's national interests.
He lost his monopoly because of Princess consort Herot, but that doesn't mean his patents are gone, so get up again.
How can I watch that? I might run into him from time to time, so should I smile?
This is fucked up, really.
On the other hand, Olivia didn't seem to care what punishment Ansen Wilhelm received. "Is that so?" He remembered that one word being the end.
But Noah couldn't do that.
There were so many reasons to want to kill Ansen.
Not just Marguerite's report. Noah hadn't told Olivia, but he had also heard a report about the tuberose that Ansen Wilhelm had been attached to. When Noah saw the tuberose returned to Herot, he felt like his eyes were going to pop out, so he turned away.
A woman who was the spitting image of Olivia.
He couldn't not know how Ansen had consumed that woman.
He felt an urge to crush the bastard's brain. He wanted to take all of his Olivia that remained in that bastard's head.
Don't imagine, don't remember, don't lust.
Olivia is mine.
Olivia's imagination, memories, and lust are all mine. Not yours.
On the other hand, there was only one reason why he couldn't kill Ansen.
'Leave him alone, Noah. Don't dirty your hands.'
Then she added what some Eastern sage had said. What was it? To just wait for the enemy's corpse to float down the river.
He thought it was a funny thing to say.
But it really did happen that way.
Ansen Wilhelm, that moron, collapsed on his own. Of course, he had put his breath into Bank Street, so he had added a priming water. Even that, he couldn't help but do.
He hoped that he would never hear from that bastard again after he had gone bankrupt like that. If he did hear from him, he hoped it would be a death notice. If he heard that he had died somewhere, he would send a chrysanthemum. It was dirty to meet you, and let's never see each other again. With that meaning.
But he didn't die, and the crazy bastard brought up Olivia again. Again.
Ansen Wilhelm's story of Olivia.
When Noah received the writing from Methone and read it, he felt like his blood was running backwards.
He wondered how vulgar the writing could be, but vulgar and obscene writing would have been better.
The writing was... like a pure fairy tale.
Olivia Liberty's teenage years that Noah Astrid didn't know. The story of a young girl walking through the campus of Herollington University with a bag as big as her body, and a boy watching her from behind, was there.
Noah read the writing as if possessed, and finally witnessed the last chapter.
'I realized later that there were flowers blooming there. I realized only later that it was spring around that time, and how beautiful the flowers blooming beside me were. Around that time, my spring flower was... yes, it was love.'
Noah stared at the letters, holding his breath. Then he turned his head to look at the cigarette, then raised his eyes to look at the window, and then stared at the letters again.
Around that time, my spring flower was, yes, it was love.
Noah chuckled and grabbed the paper.
"Crazy bastard."
He shook his shoulders and laughed silently for a long time, then tilted his head back. He couldn't calm down, even though he tried to calm down.
How could he be so vile and so base until the very end?
He covered his eyes with the back of his hand and muttered.
"That son of a bitch is annoying to the end. He writes such shitty writing."
If only I could burn this and kill that bastard.
Then I wouldn't be so annoyed.
"How can I give this to you, I."
How can I look at you reading this, I.
But he couldn't hide it. He promised not to hide it from her.
The saying that hesitation makes you afraid was always right. The day after Olivia came, Noah put it in her arms and stayed by her side.
Olivia was silent.
With that clear face, she read the teenage version of herself that was reflected in Ansen Wilhelm's eyes, wondering what she was thinking. Noah turned his head and looked out the window.
The last chapter, the last paragraph.
Should I tell her not to read just that?
Should I make a joke that there's a piece of trash writing that's bad for her mental health? No, that would have the shitty effect of making her remember it more.
Noah slyly turned his eyes to Olivia.
Unlike him, who was burning with anger, Olivia's breathing didn't change even after reading the writing. She just turned the pages with a clear face, as if she were reading any other book or newspaper.
Was the writing not bad?
It was when Noah was thinking that.
Olivia, who had been reading the writing calmly, turning the pages one by one, began to turn the pages quickly. Then she stopped for a moment to scan the writing, and then repeated turning the pages again.
Flip, flip, flip flip.
Noah suddenly thought that the sound of the paper turning was very monotonous.
A hand that has no regrets for the pages that have already been turned, and no excitement or even curiosity for the pages to come.
Flip flip, flip flip.
For some reason, he felt dignity and experience in the way she turned the paper like a knife. She was like a policymaker reviewing documents, or a professor examining a thesis.
Her extremely calm expression and unwavering attitude began to feel slightly different.
Her silence was similar to that of a lion carefully taking steps towards its prey. It felt like the air in the large office was being sucked into her silence.
Noah uncrossed his legs and raised his upper body, which had been leaning against the sofa. Then he propped his elbows on his knees and stared straight at Olivia.
Flip flip, flip flip flip.
Olivia, who had been turning one page at a time, was now skipping dozens of pages and reading the writing. It was only a matter of time before she reached the last chapter.
Her gaze reached the vile paragraph without a moment's hesitation.
That paragraph where he babbled about spring flowers and love as he pleased.
That dog-like paragraph that glossed over a terrible relationship with childhood memories and pure love.
Noah scrutinized Olivia's expression with a tenacity. He didn't even breathe, like someone trying to thread a needle through a narrow eye.
He had imagined Olivia's reaction dozens of times at this moment.
In dozens of imaginations, Olivia mostly frowned. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and took a breath, and sometimes she shed tears. Noah's own reaction had been mostly like that, so he thought Olivia would be the same.
But Olivia only raised her eyebrows once.
She didn't even feel disappointed, as if she had seen a shoddy report or a worthless proposal. She put the paper down on the sofa next to her and crossed her arms. She stared at the pile of paper as if looking down on it, then nodded her head a few times. Then she raised the corners of her lips without making a sound.
"Interesting."
It was a murmur that seemed to have vaporized from the end of her lips.
For some reason, his spine tingled.
Ah.
I see.
This is what Olivia looks like when she's burning with anger.
His anxious heart evaporated and disappeared like the murmur that had vaporized from the end of Olivia's lips. Noah, who had gained enlightenment, then laughed heartily. He exhaled the breath that had been blocked, and proudly looked at his wife, who had quietly revealed her claws.
Ansen Wilhelm.
You are,
You're really dead.
