HPL 28

chapter 28

“Are you the boss here?”

The man smiled faintly at my question.

“Why do you think so?”

“Because you’re the only adult here. Even if another member of your organization brought someone in, there must be guards for outsiders. Unless you’re the one capable of handling the security yourself.”

“Hahaha! You may look like a calm noble lady, but as Tom and Jack said, you’re not ordinary. Speak comfortably. If a noble lady talks formally to me, it irritates me strangely.”

His tone had completely changed from before. He was still polite, but now exuded authority and sharpness.

“This is Marker, the boss of our organization,” Tom introduced, while Jack tilted his head in curiosity.

“Boss, why are you here? Don’t you usually meet guests in the basement?”

“I wanted to surprise Wayne a little since it’s been a while. But no one seems surprised,” Marker said, licking his lips as if disappointed, then spun around to look at Wayne with a grin.

“Long time no see, blond kid.”

“Marker, it’s been ages. But who are you calling a kid? Your eyesight hasn’t improved at all,” Wayne replied, more teasingly than usual.

Wayne was interacting without his mask for the first time with anyone other than us, Bell, Tom, and Jack. Had they known each other before?

Roy seemed to have the same thought, glancing back and forth between the two.

“You’ve become even more insolent than before,” Marker said sourly, and Wayne laughed brightly.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Wayne replied, grinning.

Marker shook his head as if defeated.

“Alright, you three wait over there. I want to talk separately with this lady and the gentleman,” Marker said.

As Wayne, Tom, and Jack obediently moved to the other side of the clearing, Marker led us under a large tree.

Beneath the tree were a rough table and chairs. When we sat down, Marker took a seat across from us.

“You said you wanted to see us?” I started the conversation.

Marker nodded.

“You said to spread rumors that a half-breed came to Jeil? Why not use the half-breed child you brought as bait instead? It would be much easier and safer.”

I firmly refused the idea of using Nene as bait, and Marker’s tone lowered.

“You’re saying someone I know can’t be used for dangerous tasks like bait? That’s selfish thinking.”

The seemingly ordinary grandfather suddenly became a powerful figure who ruled the underworld.

Marker radiated a heavy aura toward me, and Roy’s demeanor changed. Roy emitted an equally sharp and threatening presence.

Marker’s eyes showed curiosity as he realized Roy wasn’t ordinary. When I calmly explained the reason, his curiosity deepened.

“The half-breed who barely escaped is still loitering in Jeil? Who would believe that? Humans tend to hold back when faced with overly easy targets. A challenging but flawed target is perfect for bait.”

“Oh, but there are no other half-breeds. What do we do?” I asked, solving the problem simply.

“Disguise them.”

“Who?” Marker asked, testing me. I pointed to the tall boys in the clearing.

“That size works well.”

“But there are younger, weaker kids. Why those boys? Mid-teens aren’t exactly weak enough to be perfect bait.”

Marker questioned my suggestion but remained relaxed. He wasn’t truly opposed; he was testing me.

“Younger half-breed children wouldn’t naturally come to human cities. Adults would be too cautious to travel incognito. This age is the borderline where acting alone isn’t suspicious. You know that too,” I explained.

Marker’s eyes widened at my awareness but soon returned to his grandfatherly demeanor.

“Hahaha, the noble lady really knows how to manipulate people,” he said.

When a human possessed by a demon pretends to be normal, you can’t strike them openly. You have to create opportunities for abduction or make them approach you. So, I know manipulation better than anyone.

I shrugged and deflected.

“I have many interests. Can I ask one question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know anything about Countess McCullin? Not common knowledge, but things others wouldn’t know.”

Marker glanced at Wayne, who was leaning against the tree while Tom and Jack played with the other children.

“There is one thing, related to the blond kid,” Marker said.

“Blond kid?”

“Are you talking about Wayne?”

Roy and I followed Marker’s gaze toward Wayne. He still referred to Wayne as the “blond kid,” even though Wayne’s hair was now snow-white.

Seeing our puzzled expressions, Marker explained wryly,

“Wayne’s natural hair was blond. It turned completely white due to a certain drug.”

Roy’s face drained of color instantly.

Why is Roy reacting like this?

“Bedman,” Roy muttered, almost a groan. I couldn’t tell if he was speaking to me or it slipped unconsciously.

Bedman is a drug used to maximize sensations when training slaves, more accurately, during torture. It was also why Roy lost his past memories.

I glanced at Tommy, who briefly lowered his eyes to check the information before returning them to normal.

{Bedman has various side effects. Previously, I only mentioned amnesia, but it can also turn hair completely white, impair body parts, or cause severe headaches.}

Ah, that’s why Roy reacted to Marker’s words.

Frowning, I watched as Roy expressed doubt to Marker.

“But no one would take that drug voluntarily.”

“Let me tell you an old story,” Marker said, staring into space with mixed bitterness and anger.

“There was an ambitious woman who, after overcoming her reckless husband, took over the family and the trading company. She was bold enough to leave women who were with her husband alone, as long as they didn’t become pregnant. But one day, her husband announced he would bring back an illegitimate child he hadn’t controlled.”

Ah, the story of Countess McCullin. If she learned about Wayne, she wouldn’t have stayed passive. But why Bedman?

Having experienced it firsthand, Roy focused on the details.

“If she intended to kill, poison would have sufficed. Bedman alone can’t kill.”

Roy’s muttering made Marker show old but still vivid anger.

“She put both Bedman and lethal poison in Wayne’s food. The house was covered in vomited blood as Wayne writhed in pain. Bedman amplified the agony from the poison.”

The doctor at the time said it would have been better to end it quickly, but Bell didn’t give up and nursed Wayne. Miraculously, Wayne regained consciousness in a week.

Hearing this, rage surged within me.

Mixing Bedman to make the death more painful… This woman could have gone mad properly, but instead, she did it cruelly.

Tommy’s face contorted in disgust, and Roy growled lowly, frowning.

“That woman…”

Countess McCullin is still tormenting Roy. She’s the type to torment a slave even when their location is unknown. She must have treated Wayne the same way. And yet, she acted kindly at social gatherings. Unbelievable.

After the wave of anger, a question arose: why did Wayne enter that house?

My thoughts escaped as words.

“Usually, one would avoid getting involved with that family after such an ordeal.”

“I advised him not to get involved. But the kid said he couldn’t escape as long as the count’s blood flowed in him. That woman would try to eliminate all threats herself,” Marker explained.

I understood why Wayne went into the McCullin house: to survive, and perhaps to preemptively confront the Countess who would someday try to kill him.

Sensing our seriousness, Marker tried to lighten the mood.

“Interesting. People threatened by the same person coincidentally meet and unite. As for the Black Dog gang, we’ll handle it as you suggested. Dogs barking near my territory are too noisy.”

If the red scorpion lets the bait go, we can abduct half-breeds to trace those who cut ears and tongues. Following their trail may lead us to the person behind it.

Whether that person is Countess McCullin or not, my instincts tell me she’s not uninvolved.

I felt our discussion with Marker was over and stood up, but Roy remained seated.

“Can I speak alone with this person for a moment?” Roy asked calmly, looking up at me.

He wants me to step aside, probably to discuss matters he doesn’t want others to know—something related to slavery or lost memories.

“Alright. I’ll be near Wayne,” I said, moving aside. Wayne, observing the kids kicking a ball in the clearing, spoke.

“I used to play like that too. When did I get so old?”

“Grown-up, I’d say. But who are those kids? They seem like members, but also not.”

“You saw correctly. Even in back-alley kids, some have homes, some don’t. This meddling old man took in those without homes. They’ll become underworld members, but better than starving,” Wayne explained.

A breeze passed, rustling our hair and clothes. My eyes followed Wayne’s white hair fluttering in the wind.

Even if Wayne defeats the Countess, his hair won’t return to its original color.

As I stared, Wayne tilted his head playfully.

“Judging by how you’re staring, I guess you’re interested in me.”

“I’ve always been interested, in many ways,” I replied.

Wayne froze, perhaps surprised by my response, and unusually darted his eyes around.

Lately, when we were alone, he behaved oddly. With others, he acted nonchalantly, but alone, he avoided eye contact.

“Why?” I asked.

Scratching his cheek, Wayne hesitated.

“Hmm…”

This was a side of him I hadn’t seen. Tommy looked equally curious.

{Why is he acting like this?}

Well… why indeed?