Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Chapter 5. Deliberately Stirring Up Anger. (6)
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"Fuck!"
I hurled the washbasin I was holding to the ground.
And I glared at it as if I wanted to kill it.
"How the hell did I manage to suppress this thing?"
The thing that had restored my body to an abnormally fast recovery was Requiem.
It had a habit of always trying to keep its user in peak condition.
This was something I couldn't control or suppress.
The problem was that this recovery drew on the life force I had stockpiled up until now.
"I could've lasted at least a week, but it turned it all to dust in just three days."
Diego's attack had plunged me back into hunger.
Just like when I first got my hands on Requiem.
The emptiness tormented me at every turn.
It eased a little only when I was eating, but then it rose again, clawing at my insides.
"I'm pissed, really."
I picked up the washbasin again and poured water over my head.
I muttered as I felt the smooth texture of my face.
"At least it didn't touch my face."
I smirked and slowly washed my body.
Slowly, my mood calmed, and the anger slowly subsided.
"What now?"
My head throbbed.
After getting Requiem, I thought I wouldn't have to worry about my life being in danger.
"Living as the world's top villain is tough, huh."
One mountain after another.
Since it wasn't in the original story, I hadn't prepared for it.
In the original, Abel had never met his father while sane and holding Requiem.
"For the time being, I guess I'll have to play the invalid."
At least while Diego was in the castle.
The problem was when Diego returned from the border.
"I don't know how to hide my energy."
Unless I discarded Requiem.
The option of discarding Requiem hadn't even crossed my mind.
No, I didn't even know if I could.
"I can't learn this from Liam, either."
He had barely noticed that something had changed about me.
There was no way he knew how to hide energy.
The realm where one could see others' energy with their eyes was close to Diego's level of strength.
"That means..."
Every time Diego returned to the castle, I would be exposed to violence disguised as discipline.
"Of course, I won't die."
No matter what injury I sustained, Requiem would restore my body on its own.
And each time, the amount of emptiness I had to endure would increase.
"This is tricky."
I pondered with soap bubbles piled on my head.
"...In the end, do I have to leave?"
It was something I'd been considering.
I just hadn't expected it to come so soon.
"For now,"
I looked up toward the distance.
"I need to make him pay for flapping his mouth carelessly."
My eyes gleamed coldly.
❖ ❖ ❖
Late at night, in Cader.
"More booze! Bring more booze!"
"Haha, sir, you're really..."
"So unrefined, hee-hee."
On a street lined with taverns, the night performers were reveling loudly.
Dim red lighting, languid music, and women.
"What would you like to order?"
The prostitutes serving drinks in the hall were dressed in outfits that were practically naked.
And by paying the manager, one could take a woman they fancied into a room inside the tavern.
From within came thin moans and cries of ecstasy, as if by agreement.
Creak.
The tavern door opened, and Pierre appeared.
He sauntered in and sat at the bar.
"One Charlot."
He flicked a silver coin with his finger, and the bartender deftly caught it.
"Please wait a moment."
The other patrons eyed Pierre with some admiration.
The whiskey he ordered was the most expensive and rare drink here.
Pierre smirked, enjoying the attention.
'Look at these guys, sitting there ordering cheap beer.'
Just a few days ago, he had been drinking cheap beer here too.
And merely ogling the prostitutes' plump hips.
'But tonight's different.'
Pierre licked his lips as he eyed the passing prostitutes.
"Here's your Charlot."
He sipped the whiskey the bartender politely handed over.
"Heh."
A laugh escaped him involuntarily.
This moment felt like a reward for carrying out his mission well.
'I have an order for you.'
When Diego had secretly summoned him and assigned the task, Pierre's chest had swelled.
He felt like a secret agent carrying out a royal decree.
He was a newcomer who hadn't been in the castle long.
But Abel's notoriety had been drilled into his ears.
Reporting Abel's actions to Diego fueled Pierre's sense of justice.
He even deluded himself that he was saving the castle servants trembling in fear.
So Pierre threw himself even more into the task.
Though he had nearly met disaster not long ago.
'About two weeks ago, was it?'
While Abel was out in the village, Diego had shown up at the castle unannounced.
Pierre had tried to stall as much as possible, but Diego was sharp.
In the end, Abel got slapped by his father.
'Young Master, please dispose of him.'
When he was forced to kneel before the scowling Abel, Pierre thought it was his last day.
He didn't even know where 'that place' was.
He had only heard the servants whispering in fear.
So he just trembled and begged Abel profusely.
But.
'If you understand, take him and get out.'
For some reason, Abel let Pierre go.
And later, he wasn't summoned separately for punishment.
Pierre was cowardly.
But he was also the type to forget fear quickly.
That day, back at his quarters, he thought.
'Phew, lucky.'
He could continue carrying out Count Diego's secret mission.
It felt like he'd been dragged before an evil foe and miraculously survived.
Completely forgetting that he'd begged for his life.
At the same time, he vowed revenge.
To show that wicked young master what for.
So he focused even more on surveilling Abel.
As a result, he had something worthwhile to report to Diego.
A few days ago.
Diego, back from the border, held his usual interviews with all the servants.
'Young Master Abel... was crossing swords with some knight.'
Diego asked for the knight's description.
Pierre recalled and answered as best he could.
'...I see.'
Diego nodded gravely.
And handed Pierre a pouch.
'Good work.'
With those words.
The hefty silver coins inside
meant 'Forget what you saw today.'
And not to speak of it.
A few hours later, Pierre heard that Abel and Diego had a fierce fight in the dining hall.
Swinging swords at each other.
In that moment, he knew intuitively.
'It was because of my report.'
He'd done it.
The hammer of justice had fallen on the young master.
Now the castle servants wouldn't suffer his merciless violence.
And he had received a handsome reward.
A perfect ending.
"Heh heh."
Pierre fingered the heavy silver coins in his pouch.
With this money, there was so much he wanted.
For example,
'Matilda!'
That prostitute swaying her hips as she passed.
Pierre had no talent for saving money.
He blew it all on drinks here every day off.
Moreover, the prostitute he had his eye on, Matilda, was famous for her high price here.
An ordinary servant's salary couldn't cover it easily.
So he'd been drooling but unable to buy her.
Now, finally, he had enough to 'purchase' Matilda.
Reporting on the brat young master's routine brought such side income—what luck.
Pierre grinned and nodded to the bartender.
"Matilda."
He already knew her price.
So he immediately pulled out silver coins and poured them out.
Clink, clink, clink.
The sound of coins clashing was so ecstatic it sent shivers down his spine.
"Right away."
The bartender bowed politely,
"Hoo."
And the envious gazes of those around were all sweet as honey.
A short while later.
Pierre was in a small room with Matilda.
The room was spartan: bed, small nightstand, and lamp.
"Shall we begin?"
Matilda smiled seductively.
She climbed onto the bed and over him.
"Come on..."
Pierre swallowed hard, gazing at Matilda.
The moment he decided to be a bit more bold,
"—!"
"-Ah! Block it!"
" —Call!!"
Noisy sounds flooded in from the poorly soundproofed corridor.
Shouts from several people mixed with frantic footsteps.
"What is it?"
Pierre froze.
Matilda tilted her head.
"What?"
"Didn't you hear something outside just now?"
"No idea?"
A flicker of annoyance crossed Matilda's eyes.
'Just finish quick.'
She didn't care what happened outside.
Taverns like this had frequent disturbances anyway.
Drunken men caused trouble almost daily.
'It'll quiet down soon.'
Selling booze and illegally trading prostitutes meant they invested in security.
Soon, the thugs she knew would rush in and quash the noise.
'Sigh, annoying.'
She just wanted to deal with this customer fast.
Time with customers was fixed.
The sooner they left, the more rest she got.
Matilda deliberately pulled Pierre's hand.
"Come on, continue."
Pierre hesitated briefly but was quickly captivated by the soft sensation in his palm.
"Haa..."
Matilda's moans spilled softly.
The moment Pierre mustered more courage,
Bang!
[Kyaaak!]
[What?!]
Noise erupted from the next room.
The sound of a door being roughly flung open, followed by screams from the man and woman inside.
Pierre and Matilda froze in shock.
"You heard that, right?"
"Y-Yes. From the next room, I think..."
"Does this happen often?"
"N-No, of course not."
That much was true.
Rowdy customers couldn't just open doors in this basement.
Prostitutes were trained to lock doors once inside.
"But why..."
Pierre muttered, then lowered his voice.
The noisy next room suddenly went quiet.
Then,
[Kyaaaaaaaak!]
A woman's ear-piercing scream burst out.
"Gasp!"
Pierre and Matilda's eyes widened like rabbits as they jumped up.
"I-I'll go check what's going on."
Matilda stepped to the side of the bed.
The next instant,
Bang!
Their door was roughly thrown open.
"Eek!"
Matilda recoiled in fright,
"Wh-What?"
Pierre looked toward the door in panic.
At the doorway stood a black-haired man.
Backlit by the corridor light, his face was shadowed.