Chapter 502
Chapter 502
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 502
Chapter Title: Chapter 502 - #107_어항(2)
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 502
Chapter Title: Aquarium (2)
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1.
Border Town's docks, the logistics hub importing goods from the mortal world through the 'Gates', knew no day or night.
Witches consumed staggering amounts of luxury goods.
With the total far exceeding Gehenna's domestic production, they had no choice but to bring in the shortfall from the mortal world.
Whips cracking against slaves and shouts echoed from all directions, while cargo unloaded from ships was loaded ceaselessly onto wagons and sent scattering to every corner of Gehenna.
Most cargo was transported by slaves, but not all goods.
Luxurious items ordered directly by witches often included valuables requiring careful handling, and the responsibility for any loss or damage was heavy indeed.
Such express shipments were typically handled separately by smugglers.
"Oi! Handle it carefully!"
"Damn thing's fucking heavy."
Like this box, being shuffled along with grunts by two smugglers.
A wooden crate just big enough for a woman to curl up inside was plastered with handle-with-care stickers.
After awkwardly shoving and pulling the box along for quite some time, the smugglers set it down carefully, panting roughly.
"Huff huff, shit, heaviest one we've moved today."
"Any idea what's inside?"
"Like some high-class witch would bother labeling it."
"Ptooey. Let's finish this and grab a beer."
"Sounds good."
Exchanging rough banter, the smuggler plopped his rear on a nearby crate.
Now that it was at the docks, an assigned wagon would arrive soon, and loading it onto that wagon was their job.
"Where's this one headed?"
"Hold on."
In response to the question from the smuggler tapping the box, the other pulled a notebook from the back pocket of his jeans.
A list of today's 'express items' to process.
"Lemme see here..."
The smuggler scanned the list from top to bottom.
The one chomping a cigarette nearby poked his head over and asked.
It had taken far longer than expected.
"Problem?"
"What the hell? This item's not on the list."
No matter how many times he scanned up and down, the serial number of the box they'd just busted their asses moving wasn't there.
The cigarette guy shrugged it off nonchalantly and patted his back.
"Whatever. Captain must've pocketed it, and we grabbed the wrong one. Better put it back before we catch hell."
Smugglers shuttling goods between the mortal world and Border Town weren't always scrupulous.
Every now and then, they'd sneak in unlisted items for personal use or flip them on the black market for a profit.
It violated the rules, but even if caught, it was usually swept under the rug as a custom.
-Bang!
The cigarette smuggler kicked the box.
Once he knew the full story, his kicks grew even more vicious.
"Fucking pig bastard. Couldn't pig out moderately—how much did he stuff in here to make it this heavy?"
"What can we do? Have to. You grab that side."
The two smugglers exchanged bitter smirks.
Of all things, the hardest box to move was the one they had to return.
-Crack!
With the sound of dry firewood splitting, the box's lid exploded off.
At the same moment, a small hand seized both smugglers' faces before they could even scream.
"You mountain-sized bastards bitching about my weight—what, am I heavy?"
"Ugh... ub... ub..."
"Euk... eu... euk..."
Out of the box stepped the vampire witch with blood-red hair and eyes, Clech Asmode.
"You saw nothing today. You'll black out from the hangover. Got it?"
"Uh... uh... Y-yes..."
"Have a nice, roomy box ready for me by next sailing. Add it to the list. Not some bat-dick-sized crate—something comfortable."
"Euk... euk... Un-understood."
She ground her teeth and flung their heads aside.
The smugglers, each twice her size, tumbled into the warehouse like piles of luggage.
Watching them, Clech brushed sawdust from her hair and box splinters from her shoulders.
She wanted to kill them, but she had to think ahead.
Unnecessarily killing someone could lead to tails being traced, complications in her plans, and no escape route.
Thus, she issued a merciful sentence: erase their memories with her signature hypnosis and toss them away.
"......"
Additionally, she smashed the box that had transported her to utter oblivion.
It wasn't about destroying evidence so much as it being the godawful crate that had made her tremble curled up inside for two weeks.
Exiles—and sometimes public enemies—often infiltrated Gehenna through various means.
The most common included creating backdoors via space-hopping homunculi, passing with forged citizen IDs, or blending in with smuggled cargo.
For reference, Clech's method was one even desperate witches avoided.
Of course, accessibility was top-notch.
Just find a smuggler ship and squeeze into the cargo.
But if luck soured and the route snagged, you'd be trapped motionless in pitch darkness for up to several months.
Moreover, proud witches wouldn't take kindly to being stuffed in a box like luggage.
In other words, Clech was so utterly cornered she had no room to fret over such trifles.
Her goal was simple: repay the Tiphereth Duke—who had stolen her love-hate lover, Bianca—with the same pain.
That was it.
Even against a weak opponent, causing a ruckus inside Gehenna would get her crushed in seconds.
The fact that even Bianca—who could act covertly with all her tricks—had deliberately lured her prey outside Gehenna only bolstered the speculation into certainty.
For that purpose, the aquarium.
Clech fiddled with the small orb in her hand as she organized her plan.
There wasn't much to organize.
It was very simple.
Step one: find Shin Si-woo.
Step two: hurl the aquarium to feed him to it, then flee at top speed.
It would be prime revenge to watch him get torn to shreds, but the risk was too high.
Moreover, by using only the relic vessel of the deep-sea witch for the assassination, she could direct the Tiphereth Duke's rage toward that empty-headed submarine fetishist.
Best case: the enraged Tiphereth Duke picks a fight with the deep-sea witch and dies.
Worst case: it buys time to prepare countermeasures—still optimal.
Compared to when she first lost Bianca, Clech was judging coldly now.
Blood droplets welled up across Clech's entire body with the incantation.
Befitting the full-body arts of a vampire passed down in legends, her magic resembled the bizarre sorceries of mythical vampires.
Hundreds of familiars born through blood took the form of bats and scattered en masse into the dark night sky.
2.
A sudden secret rendezvous with his petite mother-in-law.
Deneb Jemernai, having casually draped a fine cloak over her clothes, abruptly suggested a stroll.
Cloaks were often seen as a trade-off between convenience and aesthetics, but the difference was stark when worn by the Jemernai Countess.
The material was astrakhan fur from Persian lambs.
A modest silhouette that gently concealed her figure from prying male eyes.
Anyone could tell it was just thrown on casually, yet it exuded an effortless poise that even women who fussed over their outfits for hours couldn't match—forcing admirers to swallow their gasps, clueless to the mood.
"Countess. Mind if I ask something?"
"Speak."
Deneb had suggested a walk.
It was phrased as a suggestion, but it was no different from a command.
The puzzling part was ignoring the mansion's excellent gardens—perfect for strolling—and heading all the way to Tarot Town instead.
At this hour, Tarot Town would have nothing but shuttered shops and sleeping citizens.
"So.... is there a reason it has to be Tarot Town?"
"Got a problem with that?"
"No, of course not."
He'd tried probing lightly, but her eyes shot twin glares sharp as arrowheads, matched by a voice just as piercing.
For Siwoo, burdened with so many faults, there was nothing to do but tuck tail and cower.
One more oddity.
Deneb had called him out for a quick talk, yet said nothing.
Unlike his expectation of nonstop scolding the whole way, she simply walked on without a word.
Siwoo trailed diligently at her side like a servant.
"...The twins might be awake. If they spot you wandering the mansion, they'll come running for sure."
"Ah, that's the reason."
"And it's been ages since I've been to Tarot Town."
"I see."
It still wasn't a fully satisfying answer, but he wasn't fool enough to press it.
After a long silence, as they passed by a fountain, Deneb suddenly dropped a remark.
"After that, with the twins... did you keep up relations?"
Her subdued voice and awkward air instantly clued him in on exactly which 'turning point' she meant.
"No, nothing after that."
After the verification with his mother-in-law came the Harvest Festival.
He'd spent time with his master and Sharon, but unlike the twins—who drew late numbers in the rotation—he hadn't made time for them.
The last near-miss at intimacy had been busted by Deneb herself, ending in cancellation—so it had been quite a while without sex.
Deneb fell quiet again at his words.
She suddenly looked up and spoke.
"Think the walk's enough."
"Ah, heading back?"
"No, we should have a drink first."
"A drink?"
"There's a villa nearby. You know the one."
"Y-yeah..."
The very place where he'd been caught rendezvousing with the twins.
His gut twisted harder.
Was she planning to lay into him properly there?
"Should... I come along?"
"Of course. I've been stacking up the nagging for you during the walk—time to get your scolding there."
Under his petite mother-in-law's iron will, the guilt-ridden son-in-law had no choice but to follow meekly, like a lamb to the slaughter.
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