Chapter 37
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 37
Oscar tossed the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray and stepped out of the carriage.
“Your Excellency, you’ve returned.”
Barbara bowed deeply.
Oscar brushed past her without a glance. She waited for him to pass before straightening up and falling into step behind him. But after only a few paces, her master stopped.
As if on cue, the Wolves raised their heads in unison. There were far more of them than usual. Oscar’s gaze swept slowly over the gathered men.
“Are you looking for Abel?”
Oscar’s eyes slid to Barbara. As his attention shifted to her, a few of the Wolves let out breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding.
“He left with the Young Lady this morning and has not yet returned. There have been no special reports from the Backup Team, so there appears to be no cause for concern.”
Oscar shoved his hands into his pockets. “What time is it?”
“9:58 PM.”
“I heard she’s usually home by six and asleep before ten.”
He chuckled softly as he said it.
At the sound of their master’s laugh, the tense atmosphere among the agents, who had been nervously watching his every move, seemed to melt away. Someone mustered the courage to speak.
“We were just talking about that. She usually shows up around six looking half-dead, but we haven't heard a peep from her all evening.”
Oscar glanced at the man who had spoken, but the smile remained on his lips.
“I mean, it’s obvious what’s going on, isn’t it?”
“They’re probably tearing it up in bed right now.”
The agent followed the comment with an incredibly crude hand gesture, and the Wolves erupted in boisterous laughter. Simon’s brow furrowed in disgust, while Barbara remained expressionless. Oscar, a bitter smile playing on his lips, started walking toward the manor.
“I did say I’d drop the Gold Digger title if she succeeded. I wonder if I’ll really have to?”
The agents who overheard his murmur burst into even louder laughter as Oscar entered the house he hadn’t visited in so long, his stride unhurried.
The house, which seemed to embody a spectacular death, was filled with a year-round chill.
“Since you gave no further instructions after the last report, I left the Young Lady’s room as it was,” Barbara said, following behind him and reporting on matters he hadn’t asked about.
“So far, I have not observed any suspicious behavior within the manor. She avoids the places she was told to. I instructed her not to open the door connecting the library to Your Excellency’s bedroom, and she hasn’t so much as touched the doorknob.”
An image of the impossibly timid woman formed in his mind. She probably wouldn’t even glance at the doorknob, let alone touch it. And yet, for someone so timid, things were apparently getting quite lively in the room across from his.
“I told her she could read the books in the library, and she has been choosing one to read each night. Other than that, she either stays in her room or occasionally strolls through the garden. I also checked her luggage, but there was nothing of note…”
They were just a few steps from the landing.
“They’re here!”
The excited cry from an agent at the entrance cut Barbara off.
The sound of an approaching carriage rolled in.
Oscar reflexively started to turn, then stopped himself.
It had been a tiring night. He wanted to wash away the pervasive stench of blood as quickly as possible. He’d get the report soon enough, and the Key was safe. There was no reason to look.
He faced forward again and placed his foot on the next step. But as he did, time seemed to fold.
He remembered a half-drawn curtain, a transparent car window. The memory of the woman turning her head the instant their eyes met sparked a crooked thought.
Hilarious. And she was the one staring.
But then…
I wonder what that face looks like now.
One hand in his pocket, one foot poised on the step, Oscar stood motionless. Barbara watched him, a puzzled expression on her face.
His monstrously sharp senses were fixed on the scene unfolding behind him.
The carriage stopped. A door opened. Then came the sound of footsteps, as faint as a pencil line.
What an odd presence.
A languid smile touched Oscar’s lips. He glanced down at his feet, then looked up and placed a cigarette between his lips. As he lit it, he turned around.
His vision was momentarily obscured by a puff of smoke. A slender silhouette flickered into view, then was gone.
The smoke vanished in an instant.
Oscar held the smoke in his mouth, not yet exhaling.
Small feet, ankles, the hem of a skirt, a trench coat that looked too thin for the late summer weather of Luxen… His gaze traveled upward, and as it neared the woman’s face, his eyes narrowed.
The woman who appeared was so pale she was almost blue, looking as if she would burst into tears at the slightest touch. On closer inspection, the hem of her skirt, her shoes, and her ankles were a complete mess.
“I will see to it, Your Excellency.”
Seeing her state, Barbara hurried down the stairs.
Abel.
Oscar instinctively looked for the Wolf, and just then, Abel stepped out of the carriage. The sight of him only deepened Oscar’s confusion.
His appearance was just as alarming as the woman’s.
Not only were his shoes and trouser cuffs filthy, but his hair was also in wild disarray.
Oscar descended the stairs toward them, one step at a time.
He couldn’t make any sense of the situation.
But then, something even more absurd happened.
“Please bring me some salt.”
The woman, who looked on the verge of tears while nervously eyeing the furious Abel, spoke urgently to Barbara.
“Lady Barbara, please bring me some salt.”
Salt?
“…Salt, you say?”
“Yes, some salt… no, bring a lot, please.”
Her voice was whisper-thin, but her expression and actions were frantic. Barbara wordlessly gestured to an agent behind her, who immediately rushed off. In that time, Abel, looking a hair's breadth from snapping, turned to leave, but the woman quickly grabbed him.
“W-wait a minute…!”
By then, Oscar had reached the manor entrance, his steps unhurried but tinged with a cold edge. He leaned casually against the doorframe, observing the ridiculous scene. Not just Oscar, but dozens of agents were watching the standoff with fiery intensity.
Just as the enraged Abel Sting opened his mouth to say something—
“Here’s the salt!”
The salt had arrived. The woman, her face ashen, turned toward the servant. It was only then that Abel noticed Oscar’s presence and froze. He immediately tried to approach, but Oscar, the cigarette hanging from his lips, flicked his eyes in a clear order to carry on.
Abel stopped in his tracks, a look of utter misery on his face.
Now, the only one unaware of the master of the house’s presence was the woman.
She was staring down at the rock salt grinder the servant held out, a look of perplexity on her face.
Oscar watched her, his eyes narrowed.
What is she planning to do with that?
He wasn’t the only one. Barbara, Simon, and even Abel—who was seething with contempt and disgust—were watching the Outsider’s bizarre behavior with uncomprehending eyes.
The Outsider, having captured everyone’s attention, took a deep breath. Then, as if she had made up her mind, she turned back to Abel.
“I’m sorry about today. They said there’s nothing better than this for keeping bad luck away.”
In contrast to her resolute expression, her voice was barely a whisper.
Bad luck?
What is she talking about, suddenly asking for salt?
What on earth is she trying to…
Shhk-shhk.
“……”
“……”
His train of thought blurred, then broke.
Shhk-shhk.
In the darkness and silence of the manor entrance, the sound of the rock salt grinder was unusually loud. The woman, head bowed low, turned the grinder with a trembling hand.
Shhk-shhk.
Abel Sting looked so flabbergasted he couldn’t seem to breathe.
Shhk, shh…
“Hah…”
The word he mouthed was unmistakably “fuck.” A desolate wind that had swept through the forest swirled between the woman’s bowed head and Abel, who looked utterly ruined.
And the tense silence, carried on that desolate wind, was shattered without warning by a laugh just as desolate.
Oscar couldn’t hold it back.
“Heh, heh…”
The laugh scraped his throat on its way out, and the cool air that rushed in to replace it seeped deep into his lungs.
Laughter escaped, and cool air filled the void. It scraped his lungs again as more laughter escaped, and more cool air rushed in. Strangely, it felt like he was truly breathing. The cloying stench of blood that had clung to him seemed to fade, and the annoyance that had been nagging at the edge of his mind was forgotten.
How on earth did a girl like that end up with the Key?
After laughing for a good while, he let out a long breath and raised his eyes, but his bangs had fallen, obstructing his view. He moved the cigarette from his hand to his lips and swept his hair back.
Through the smoke, he saw a deathly pale face.
Tears welled in the eyes staring blankly at him, blurring her features.
I think she was like this the first time I saw her, too.
Oscar took another drag from his cigarette. And then, with the same carelessness he’d shown earlier that night, he offered a greeting.
“Have you been well?”
Though it certainly didn’t look like it.
*
“Doesn’t look like you two were rolling around in bed.”
As Oscar spoke, shrugging off his overcoat, not only Abel, who had followed him into the reception room, but also the agent from the Backup Team wore expressions of utter disgust.
Both of them looked so thoroughly fed up that Simon couldn’t help but ask, “What in the world were you two doing?”
Barbara spoke as she briskly shook out Oscar’s coat and hung it up.
“You said you were going to Pal Pien Market, didn’t you?”
Pal Pien. Abel gritted his teeth at the mention of that godforsaken name. He was steeling himself to find out which bastard had told her about it and give them a piece of his mind—even if it was a senior agent like Barbara—when Oscar perched on the edge of his desk. In contrast to his casual posture, his shadowed gaze was aimed at Abel, as sharp as a well-honed blade.