Chapter 23: The Lifted Veil (6)
Chapter 23: The Lifted Veil (6)
"That's enough drinking."
"Youuu, enemyyy?"
"I am not."
"Can't I just drink more?"
"No, you cannot. You've had enough."
"Not even one more sip?"
"Not even one."
Firmly, he cleared every bottle from the table and rose from his seat.
The man who had been subjected to the repeated questioning gave an awkward scratch of his head and gauged the other's expression.
"Uh... I didn't think it'd turn out like this. Sorry about that..."
"I'm glad you realize it."
"Haha..."
He had no choice but to read Ben's mood.
Wasn't this whole mess practically his fault for plying him with drinks?
Ben knew it too, and shot him a glare, but what was done was done. With a resigned sigh, Ben racked his brain for a way to handle the situation.
'I should call Ed after all.'
No matter how he looked at it, that was the best option. He'd also have some legion members brought along, so they could quickly stop any potential accidents if things went wrong.
"The communication stone..."
He didn't have it.
He realized he hadn't brought it with him.
As the personal physician, Ben rarely left his own room in the Demon Castle.
The only times he did were when Demon-nim's condition worsened and he had to rush out. In those cases, he never had the time to grab the communication stone, so for Ben, the stone's presence was practically like air.
Only noticeable when he consciously thought about it.
Of course, when he packed his things to come outside the castle, it had been included, but it was probably still buried somewhere in the luggage where he'd stuffed it.
Part of it was that Ben himself didn't tend to keep the stone handy, but it was also a mistake born from never imagining that the adjutant Ed would be separated from Demon-nim.
"......Do you have a communication stone?"
"Huh? No?"
"......."
"W-well, the owner of this place should have one."
"......Is that so."
Ben looked back and forth between the man giving a forced laugh and Demon, who was still rubbing his cheek against the table.
He couldn't exactly drag the insensate 0th Legion Commander around, but leaving him here was too risky....
Regardless of his worries, what he had to do was already decided.
Grab.
He seized the man by the collar.
The flustered guy's face filled his vision.
"H-hey, mister? What's this all of a sudden?"
"Guard him well. Know that if you try anything funny, you'll die."
"Ah, what the hell, you could've just asked nicel— Ack!"
"The reason I showed you respect was because this person extended goodwill to you. So if you can't even repay that, why should I respect you?"
"Wh-who said I wouldn't?"
The man stared at Ben with a dumbfounded expression as Ben walked away, as if the answer was all he needed.
He hadn't planned on messing with him anyway. He'd just intended to slip the money pouch when he saw an opening.
Did that count as 'trying something funny'?
Compared to drugging his drink, wasn't this just cute?
In the first place, if Mile's plan had succeeded, he wouldn't have even needed to step in.
'Damn bastard, clean-up always falls to me.'
If someone gets angry on your behalf before you do, the anger tends to subside.
Especially if the intensity is strong, the anger vanishes and gets replaced by bewilderment. The man had saved his friend from trouble several times with this method.
The target, having no way of knowing the punches and kicks were pulled to avoid serious injury, would get flustered. He himself would then approach with the excuse of apologizing on the friend's behalf and steal the money.
It was failed prey anyway, and since Mile had no room to complain about him taking the spoils after saving his neck, it wasn't a bad deal at all, as long as you could put up with the hassle.
But something about this time was odd.
A sense of dissonance, maybe?
He hadn't even planned to make him drink this much originally.
He'd meant to snatch the money right when they came up to the second floor with their arms around each other's shoulders, but....
'I had a bad feeling.'
So he'd plied him with drinks until he was drunk.
It cost him some coin, but if he could just get his hands on that bulging pouch at the man's waist, it wouldn't even be a loss, so his words and actions held no restraint.
And now.
The white-haired, red-eyed man had his head down on the table.
Anyone could see he was in a completely defenseless state. And yet, why.
'Why does it still feel wrong?'
But he couldn't put it off any longer.
He'd even pretended not to have a communication stone to peel the escort away. If he failed to steal after all that, his reputation in this business would be cracked.
The man himself was sprawled out dead drunk, and now, with the annoying escort gone to borrow a communication stone, this was the perfect moment.
It was an opportunity that wouldn't come twice, so the man focused his nerves like never before, moving his hand toward the man's waistband with stealth and speed. And then.
Grab.
"!"
He was caught.
The man stared down at his caught wrist with an expression of utter incomprehension.
The wrist held firmly.
His gaze followed the pale hand gripping his wrist upward, finding a face already raised and grinning foolishly at him.
"Enemyyy?"
"......No."
He barely managed to move his lips.
His mind had long since fallen into chaos.
How? He might not look it, but he could pride himself on his hand skills.
He looked so sickly and frail, so how did he notice and catch him? Should he just overpower him and take it?
He was just thinking that when the outside suddenly grew clamorous.
Dang— Dang— Dang—
The alarm bell signaling an attack began to ring.
"Is it a demonic beast?"
"Well, it was about time for an attack."
There was no agitation.
The ones tasked with defending the city were separate, after all.
The problem, though, was that guy. His escort, rushing back, having apparently finished his communication.
Watching him close the distance in an instant, the man narrowed his brows faintly.
Damn, the money's a lost cause.
"Demon-nim, please get up! It's a demonic beast attack!"
"Mm, enemy?"
"Yes, a demonic beast is an enemy."
As he answered, Ben let out a silent sigh of relief.
It wasn't something he should say, but the timing was good.
When he was totally drunk but hadn't seen a satisfying amount of blood, the 0th Legion Commander would often escalate to the next stage of drunken rampage without even needing more alcohol.
And a demonic beast attack in that exact situation.
"Ed and the others will be waiting outside. Let's go down."
Ben, who had just referred to the mighty 0th Legion members as 'the others,' hurriedly helped Demon up.
He was trying to get down to the first floor as quickly as possible, but the atmosphere was strange.
People in the tavern were rising from their seats one by one.
Their movements subtly blocking the stairs were clearly ill-intentioned to anyone watching, and Ben's expression gradually hardened.
Amidst all this, our 0th Legion Commander Demon was still smiling, though.
"Enemyyy?"
"Looks like the drug was a failure, and so was the pickpocketing. But that means these guys are still our prey, right?"
"......."
The man frowned, but clammed up as if he had nothing to say.
When no one answered his question, Deon slowly tilted his head and spoke again.
"Enemy?"
"Keh, then I'll take that as a yes, so don't you go blaming me later."
"......."
"Enemy?"
When there was still no answer, his smile deepened. His voice became more forceful along with it.
But still, it was just a drunken bastard. He only had one companion with him.
Sneers lingered on the thugs' lips.
"Well, if you hand over that money at your waist, we could just stay as fellow patrons of this tavern."
Everyone had clearly seen how much he'd cleaned out at the gambling hall.
Sadly, most of the people inside the gambling hall were familiar faces to each other.
They competed to fleece the pockets of easy marks, and they also worked together to rob them.
There was no way people like that would just let someone go after he'd raked in a mountain of gold coins.
Especially when the prey was just two people, and easy pickings at that.
But then, as if his reason had been paralyzed by fear.
"Pff, pffhaha..."
"?"
"Hhahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahaha! K-heh, heh heh..."
The white-haired man began laughing like a madman.
He burst into laughter, even throwing his head back, then at some point— abruptly stopped, his face turning dead serious as he spoke.
In his hand, a dagger twirled. Where he'd drawn it from was anyone's guess.
"Enemy."
* * *
Thud. Thud.
The sound of heavy footsteps overlapped with the groaning of the old wooden stairs as they were pressed down.
The white-haired man, no, his hair now dyed crimson, was leisurely descending to the first floor with his money pouch brazenly displayed at his waist.
Even with the money pouch so openly visible, no one on either floor could block his path. No, they couldn't even approach him.
Those who had witnessed his brutality firsthand were frozen in terror. Those who hadn't sensed madness in the blood-drenched Demon as he smiled.
Among them, the man who had witnessed the entire scene directly before his eyes and had even shared drinks with him, stood rooted to the spot, trembling.
It wasn't because he'd committed a massacre.
The number he'd killed was just one.
However.
'He killed him too cruelly.'
Everything happened in an instant.
The moment the foolishly laughing white-haired man seemed to move, the dagger was driven almost simultaneously into the shoulder joint of the one who'd been snickering at the very front.
Fast.
Before that thought could even fully form, the man slashed the dagger downward. Blood splattered across his face with a horrid ripping sound, but he paid it no mind.
Instead, after severing the muscles of both arms to render the target utterly helpless, he began to hack away at his opponent with a maddening smile, as if thirsting for blood.
He stabbed down relentlessly, laughing, as if carving the ground itself, without discrimination between face, stomach, and limbs. The sight was so horrifyingly cruel.
By the time he stopped, his pure white hair had been dyed red.
And the man knew exactly why he had stopped.
'Because it couldn't possibly get any more tattered.'
A corpse so utterly shredded it was unrecognizable.
The instant he saw that thing, not even knowing when its breath had stopped, he knew instinctively.
'Ah, if I attack, I'll end up just like that.'
Those blocking the stairs must have felt it too, as they began to slink backward. As a path naturally opened up, the man nodded his head.
Well, yeah. He must have felt every pain a living being can feel before he died.
It's only natural for any living creature to prefer a death as painless as possible. At the very least, surely no one would ever want to die in such a way.
In the suffocating silence, the man descended the stairs, holding the blood-dripping dagger. The one who appeared to be his escort followed behind him, but it no longer registered as a major concern.
Because that escort was just for show.
No, perhaps he was actually there to keep the sleeping beast from waking.
As if possessed, the man moved his feet to follow him.
Of course, he didn't stick too close. He followed at the maximum distance possible while still keeping him in sight.
And what entered his eyes were the people on the first floor, desperately clearing the way even though they couldn't have possibly seen what happened on the second floor.
Of course, some might have secretly peeked. But those would be the extreme minority, and yet, just look at this atmosphere.
'He completely took control.'
A suffocating silence wrapped around the entire building.
Goosebumps rose on his skin.
That man, by killing just a single person, had overturned the numerical disadvantage and seized the momentum for himself.
Was it instinct, or was it intentional?
Well, either way, it meant he was a dangerous existence. What did it matter now?
The atmosphere was quieter than ever before, yet it felt like the calm before a storm. Unable to take another step, the man just squeezed his eyes shut.
"The intoxication's gone."
"Is... that so."
Ben replied with a bitter face.
Anyone who witnessed such a thing, or carried it out themselves, would sober up in an instant. In fact, it would be more impressive if someone remained drunk and dazed after seeing that much blood.
He didn't mind the shortened speech. It wasn't the first time this had happened anyway.
The 0th Legion Commander tended to drop formal speech when he drank or seriously entered combat.
Wiping the blood from the dagger with his finger, Deon headed toward the door. Then, as if spotting something, he paused for a moment and stared intently somewhere.
"Hik!"
Mile, who had been hiding in a corner, flinched and shrank back.
Their eyes met!
He wished it was just his imagination, but that blood-soaked man was clearly looking right at him with those gleaming red eyes.
The moment he felt his life was threatened, regret surged in like a tidal wave.
'I was crazy. Of all people, why did it have to be a bastard like that!'
There was no way Ben hadn't seen the 0th Legion Commander's gaze turn toward him.
That insane bastard who had the gall to offer Demon-nim drugged liquor.
If he didn't know, fine. But now that he'd caught his attention, there was no intention of forgiveness.
However....
Ben deliberately furrowed his brows and spoke.
"There's no need to waste your time on a wretch like that. If you give the order, I will..."
"No."
"......."
Having cut Ben off in a single word, Deon turned his steps slowly and approached Mile.
Despite his steps being clearly slow, he arrived right in front of him in an instant. He slowly knelt down before him, met his face, and grinned.
"Druggie."
"Ye-yes!"
"If you don't wanna die...."
"......."
"Hand over the rest of your drugs."
"......Huh?"