Chapter 567
Chapter 567
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 567
Chapter Title: Sleeping with the Enemy (3)
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"Then..."
They weren't the type to huddle close and chat amiably from the start.
So, he planned to cut straight to the chase.
In other words, pick up right where the interrogation had left off.
"Hold on a sec."
Dorothy interrupted him by slipping a cigar back between her lips.
A weary smile peeked out faintly amid the seductively drifting smoke.
"You've been firing off questions nonstop, but I think I've given you more than enough service time."
"Is that so? I still feel like it's not enough."
There was no desire to get chummy, so no need to stroke her ego.
Plus, even from this brief observation, it was clear she wasn't the type to fall for obvious flattery or pretense.
Not that there was outright malice, but with the facade gone, his tone naturally turned curt.
"How about we play a drinking game from now on? We take turns asking one question each, and answer truthfully."
"In that case... let's stake our witch names on it."
Witches were a prideful bunch.
Staking one's witch name meant putting not just their own honor on the table, but that of their ancestors too.
He'd never seen a witch treat it lightly, and since he didn't have one anyway, it was the perfect cheat.
Dorothy's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she soon chuckled and her gaze turned languid again.
"I can stake as many of those as you want~ but betting your witch name against an exile or a public enemy isn't the smartest move."
"Pardon?"
"Don't the witches of Gehenna obsess over noble honors~ and family prestige~?"
"They do."
At least, every witch Si-woo knew did.
"Sure, there are proud, lofty exiles out there, but plenty aren't~ witches who'd toss their name away a hundred times over without a second thought?"
"Which side are you on, Dorothy?"
"I believe value isn't in a name either. I've already sullied the letters 'Sahaquiel' five times over."
For the first time in their conversation, Si-woo felt a twinge of confusion.
The Dorothy speaking so casually showed no sign of narcissistic rebellion against 'society's rules' or cold, profit-driven ruthlessness.
She just recited it plainly, like advice to an clueless junior.
And this was in front of Si-woo, who suspected her— a situation where she could've easily lied if she wanted to.
He sensed elements that didn't fit the profile of a 'public enemy' emerging from her one after another.
And even if his suspicions were baseless, she'd shown no irritation at the treatment.
As his thoughts reached that point, he realized this was his first real conversation with a true 'public enemy.'
Past exchanges had been nothing but kill-or-be-killed threats.
Of course, he didn't forget it could all be deception.
"Anyway, here's the deal. We promise not to lie to each other."
"...What's that supposed to mean?"
Expecting some magical enforcement as a countermeasure, Si-woo was caught off guard.
What Dorothy proposed was laughably flimsy—a rule even a five-year-old would doubt.
"You don't trust me? Don't worry~ I can see through most lies. And you seem terrible at telling them anyway."
"I don't have any convenient ability like that..."
"Really? Well then~ no choice. Want to see?"
She flicked a few drops of the red blood she'd been mixing into her drinks into an empty glass.
"Like I said earlier, this isn't ordinary witch blood. It's a deadly poison laced with curses and spells—any human without magical countermeasures dies from a single drop."
"Why the hell would you drink something like that?"
Ignoring the tangent, Dorothy continued.
"But this blood has another special property. It discerns truth. Lie after smearing it on your hand, and you'll bleed out from every pore."
He almost bought it for a second, but her grinning face revealed the truth instantly.
The blood did carry unusual mana and traces of curses too tangled to identify, but it surely lacked the convenient function she described.
Even if it existed, confession magic with constraints required intricate refinement—smearing it on a hand wouldn't cut it.
"That's a lie, right?"
"You're good~ at spotting lies. Fooled you for a bit, though."
"I've seen every kind of magic."
In the end, he'd fallen for her tease.
This witch was, without a doubt, the most self-paced one he'd met.
Dorothy straightened up, her heavy breasts jiggling.
"Anyway, can I ask first?"
"Go ahead."
Since he'd grilled her like an interrogator up to now, he yielded the first move.
"Are you lovers with Her Majesty the Queen?"
The first question was a jaw-dropper, impossible to answer cleanly.
He felt pathetic for hesitating, but it was too tricky to blurt out.
"Yes..."
In that brief pause before steeling himself to say 'yes,' Dorothy's eyes widened—the biggest yet—in shock.
"That hesitation means..."
"......"
"You have more than one lover?"
Reading that far in an instant made him wonder if some mind-reading spell was at play.
"That's~ a bit disappointing. Who knew the princess's first man would be such a naughty Casanova~"
Pure curiosity prompted his question.
"How did you even know that?"
"Know what?"
"I only hesitated for a split second."
Even Lurue herself wouldn't have minded such a fleeting pause.
Dorothy filed her nails casually as she replied.
"When asked if you're lovers, your eyes drifted not toward the bedroom where Lurue is, but elsewhere. That moment, you thought of another woman—or women. But you don't strike me as brazen enough to juggle hearts for profit. So, you haven't sorted out your relationships properly yet?"
Indeed, this seemingly carefree woman housed the cunning of ten foxes.
With just that scrap of info, plus her experience and intuition, she'd pierced right through.
Admiration for her crisp deduction outpaced any humiliation.
"...Fine. My turn now?"
"Nope. I answered your 'how did you know' question, so it's my turn again. How'd you end up here, and when? You can't just buy a ticket to a submarine in the middle of the South Pacific."
Figuring trivia like this was harmless, he gave a rough rundown.
He skipped and condensed much, but Dorothy listened with evident delight.
"What a~ tumultuous life you lead?"
"It just happened that way. Now my turn..."
Most curiosities were cleared in the interrogation, so this was more personal—specifically about Dorothy herself.
"How'd you end up a public enemy?"
"I already told you~. I inherited the stigma along with the succession."
"I'm asking about your predecessor."
He half-expected refusal, but she opened up readily.
"My mentor killed over ten apprentice witches. Even after Gehenna was founded, she kept at it—old habits die hard—and drew the ire of the witches."
"Then..."
"I've never killed or even targeted an apprentice. Maybe a dozen clueless witches who came at me?"
He'd meant to ask about her own case.
As if preempting, Dorothy raised a finger leisurely, adding as if unconcerned by any condemnation.
"In the three years after my succession, two exiles and one from Gehenna came to steal my stigma. Three public enemies total."
"I was frustrated, furious. I hadn't done a thing wrong, yet because my mentor was a public enemy, I had to live like a starved mongrel."
"After that, I naturally killed any witch who appeared as an enemy. Sometimes friends too. Sometimes those who messed with my business. I took what I needed, discarded what I didn't—even if it was in my pocket."
Recounting her past, her expression never shifted.
Despite the brutality, her tone was as flat as sharing trivia like ' Greenland sharks have eye parasites and go blind.'
Realizing she'd rambled, Dorothy muttered, "Anyway, I get chatty with drinks," with a charmless grin.
"From your perspective, all public enemies must be vile villains. And honestly, not far off. But I don't know any other way to live. I don't resent or lament my mentor for not teaching me alternatives. This~ is my life, after all."
There was no way to verify truth from lie.
But watching her sip her drink stirred complex thoughts.
By objective standards, Dorothy was a villain.
Her business alone—a arms trade—dragged countless to death, and she'd confessed to slaying innumerable witches, fitting her title.
No guilt, no remorse, no intent to change.
Yet talking to her one-on-one sowed confusion.
At least so far, person to person, she seemed quirky but not bad.
He couldn't fully trust her words, but if he'd inherited a public enemy stigma.
If thrown into an environment where survival meant killing, like a beast in the wild.
Could he claim better choices? He couldn't say.
"My turn now?"
"Yes."
If he could just label her an enemy outright, this sticky unease wouldn't come bundled in.
"Would you maybe hold me?"
"Is that your question?"
"Yeah. If you're up for it, I'll happily oblige. The princess is asleep anyway?"
The nun's habit skirt slipped down.
Long legs and plump thighs revealed, Dorothy twisted to emphasize her chest.
Her bewitching silver eyes, heavy with intoxicating allure, fixed on Si-woo.
No need to agonize.
"I refuse."
"Aw~ so mean. Talking about the old days made me lonely..."
"...That's a lie."
Brushing off the sudden advance, Dorothy pouted with a smirk.
"As expected~ you're good at spotting lies."