ILIOTS 20

Chapter 20

A pair of flashlight beams appeared, shining on me once again. In an instant, their faces twisted.

“What the… That’s not her!”

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you hear the curfew? Do you even realize what you’ve done…?”

“Enough.”

At Giles’ command, they fell silent. He still seemed shaken, but his voice retained the calm, rational authority of a commander.

“I’ll handle sending her back. Return to your positions. Time is short. I understand your frustration at wasted effort, but there’s no time to linger. Do you all understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go. While you dawdle here, she’ll be putting distance between us with every step.”

In an instant, his subordinates dispersed. Finally, it was just the two of us. He slowly released his grip on my hair. For a few seconds, we just stared at each other in silence.

I didn’t know what he was thinking. But at least, he had let me go.

“Lily. So—”

The moment he began to speak, my mind snapped back. I turned and ran. Giles didn’t stop me. Was he chasing me? Probably.

Pain began to rise from the soles of my feet. I ran blindly, half-sobbing, gripped by the creeping terror.

Twice was bearable. But not a third time.

I couldn’t endure being hurt by men I hated three times!

He would inevitably do the same to me. There was no doubt. I had experienced it twice already. There was no reason to believe the same thing wouldn’t happen again.

Because everything that had happened to me had been like this!

I hadn’t done anything wrong. I hadn’t…

Running aimlessly has its limits. I could feel my mind growing faint. My whole body weakened, not just my legs. Especially after Giles had grabbed my hair.

It felt like being trapped in a nightmare. No matter how hard I tried to wake from it, I felt like I was flailing helplessly in a deep ocean.

Eventually, I hid in a shadowy corner, trembling as I knelt. Please, let him not find me. I hoped someone else would discover me first.

At that point, anyone would have sufficed.

I slowly opened my eyes. A white light from a ceiling lamp cast a harsh glare. I turned my head from the brightness, and something suddenly blocked it.

A man I didn’t know. He leaned close to me. At first, thinking it was Giles, I instinctively pushed him away, but his voice told me otherwise.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Even in my dazed state, I tried to make sense of the situation. This didn’t seem like a prison. I was lying in a small room. My body felt feverish. I couldn’t fully regain my senses.

The man wiped my forehead with a damp cloth.

“You collapsed in a thin sweater on a cold winter night. How could you not be sick? Poor thing.”

He kept telling me it was okay, that I’d be fine, as if he could read my thoughts.

I knew I shouldn’t trust him easily, but I wanted to cling to the warmth and comfort his words offered. Until now, the only comfort I had was my own.

I had thought self-reassurance would suffice. Hearing it from someone else, though, made me realize how lonely my struggle had been.

Weakened by my illness, I almost cried, but I held back. I couldn’t shed tears in front of a stranger.

Instead, I closed my eyes.

I thought maybe I could be okay if I rested a little.

When I opened my eyes again, the world was bright. My mind was much clearer. I remembered the events of the previous night and sat up abruptly.

I had clearly been fleeing the revolutionaries and had been caught by Giles. But for some reason, he let me go… and I ran. What had happened after that?

I looked around. The room was small and worn. A drum converted into a stove clattered as it warmed the space. From outside, I could hear the occasional voices of people walking the streets.

Then I remembered the man! A man I didn’t know had wiped my face with a cloth and spoken to me. Where was he now? Was he one of Giles’ subordinates? Would I meet uniformed revolutionaries if I went outside?

When the door opened, the man who had cared for me the night before appeared, showing me my assumption had been wrong.

He wasn’t a revolutionary. No uniform, and if Giles had captured me, he would surely have wanted to meet me personally instead of sending someone else.

He sat on a chair near me and handed me a cup of water.

“Thirsty? Drink.”

I accepted the cup, staring at him suspiciously. If he wasn’t Giles’ subordinate, who was he? I had no connection to anyone. No one in the world would help me without reason.

He smiled, gently or perhaps pleadingly.

“It’s just clean water. Nothing added. You can trust me.”

“What reason do I have to trust you?”

“Do you think I would harm you after safely bringing you here over a cup of water?”

“I don’t know you.”

“Exactly. I know it’s confusing to be in a strange place talking to a stranger. You’re better than last night, but still not well. To leave this place, you need to recover. I’ll help you. But first, you need to rehydrate. You must be dehydrated from last night.”

I peered at the cup, testing it. It tasted fine. Realizing how thirsty I was, I drank it down in one go.

“Slowly.”

He admonished me, but I had already emptied the cup.

“Want more?”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Good things happen sometimes.”

“They never happen to me.”

He nodded, respecting my opinion. Leaning back comfortably, he said:

“I know the situation you’re in.”

“….”

“Don’t be tense. I’m not going to use this to blackmail you. I want to request your cooperation instead.”

“You’re joking, right? Have you been catching women off the streets and selling them? Are you going to sell me too?”

“Giles Hessen is after you, isn’t he?”

I remained silent. He seemed to know more than I thought.

When I said nothing, he continued.

“He’s famous. Not in a good way, but at least among the people of Ipswin, he’s almost a hero. He brought down Veldam and restored the city’s glory. But to someone like me, he’s a ruthless killer. I’m sure you know he’s captured and killed many. I’m someone sent to rescue people like you.”

“Rescue?”

“Yes. Once you’ve caught the eye of the revolutionaries, surviving here is difficult. You might have to spend your life running. I’ll get you out of this land. Then you’ll be free.”

“And what do you gain?”

“Not everything needs a reward.”

“Nonsense. No one helps others without reason.”

“Giles Hessen has killed many. Tortured more. Haven’t you thought there must be people who hold grudges against him? While he kills in the name of Ipswin’s freedom, his chest shining with medals, the number of enemies surely grows.”

“So…?”

I asked cautiously, “Is he your enemy too?”

“Of course. Without a doubt.”

“So he’s after you too?”

“If he knew about me, yes. Don’t worry if you can’t fully understand yet. But this is the only revenge I can take. I’ll prevent him from getting what he wants. Since he wants you so badly, I’ll give you your freedom instead.”

“…How do I know you’re not lying to sell me off?”

“If I wanted that, I wouldn’t bother persuading you. If I planned to sell you, I could’ve done so while you were unconscious last night.”

He wasn’t joking. He could easily overpower me but chose to speak instead.

“…You’ll really take me abroad?”

“If you trust me and follow. The choice is yours. I won’t force you. If you trust me, I’ll be glad, but I won’t be angry if you don’t. You decide. At least I’m not like Giles Hessen.”

The man stood and looked down at me.

“I’ll be outside. Tell me when you decide.”

He left. I was left with a choice. Could I trust him? Was taking me abroad a lie?

I could refuse, but then I’d have nothing. I didn’t even have money to leave. And Giles would probably be faster.

I had no chance on my own.

His words lingered in my mind: “You might have to spend your life running. If you can’t leave, you’ll have to change your name multiple times. He’ll follow until your mind changes—and that will never happen.”

Then, I had to trust him. He was my only option.

I wasn’t trusting him—just his resolve.

He was outside, smoking a cigarette, glancing toward me.

I said, “Tell me what I have to do. And your name.”

He smiled.

“My name is Albert Shaw.”

The man walking the streets closed the abandoned building door as naturally as a worker entering an office. In front of him was an old typewriter. He whistled while feeding in a sheet of paper and began typing. The message was short and simple—only his colleagues would understand it.

He was pleased that he didn’t have to expend too much effort. He wasn’t exactly suited for sales, but he was grateful the woman had trusted him.

The typewriter clicked and clattered.

「OPEN FOR BUSINESS」

Anna Keating was in his hands.

The rest was up to him.