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Chapter 32
Isaac’s steps were hurried.
With his cane tapping and bumping into things here and there, many people on the way spoke up to offer help out of concern for him. Thanks to them, he managed to arrive without much trouble.
Isaac’s destination was the Dampfelt mansion.
In truth, Isaac disliked Viktor Dampfelt. Nevertheless, at this moment, he needed his help.
Upon hearing that Isaac Crimson had come to visit, Viktor Dampfelt appeared in the reception room. He had just finished his shift at the air base and come from the sauna. From the moment he entered, a faint forest-like scent spread through the air. It was a pleasant fragrance.
The sound of Viktor Dampfelt sitting down in a chair was heard.
Isaac spoke quietly.
“My younger sister is about to do something dangerous.”
Viktor gave no reply. Instead, the sound of a lighter clicking and a cigarette being lit could be heard.
Isaac continued.
“What Scarlett intends to do is the right thing, but her safety may be at risk… I was hoping you could help her.”
“……”
“Sir Viktor… it is you, isn’t it?”
Since there was no sound, Isaac couldn’t be sure.
When he asked directly, Viktor finally answered.
“I’ll do so.”
“…Ah.”
Since Viktor accepted his request so easily, unlike what he had expected, Isaac found himself rather at a loss.
With that, Viktor seemed to consider the conversation finished, for he said nothing more.
Isaac said,
“Then I’ll be on my way.”
At that, someone approached, perhaps at Viktor’s gesture.
“Hello, my name is Kenly. I’ll escort you back to your residence.”
Hearing this, Isaac stood, bowed politely, and said,
“I came alone, so I can return alone as well.”
At those words, the long-silent Viktor gave a short laugh.
“The siblings resemble each other.”
“……”
Isaac turned his head toward the sound.
Kenly spoke in a sociable tone.
“But sir, you are our lady’s brother. Please allow our young master to provide you with a carriage.”
“Then… yes, thank you.”
Saying that, Isaac followed the sound of Kenly’s footsteps.
After they left the reception room, Viktor spoke to Blight.
“Assign people. To both siblings.”
“Yes, young master.”
“Scarlett is to keep reporting to me.”
“Yes, understood.”
Just then, a scream from Isaac rang out in the corridor.
Viktor and Blight hurried out to find Isaac clutching his eyes with both hands.
“Count Crimson?”
“Ugh… ahhh!”
As Isaac groaned in agony, Kenly asked in alarm,
“W-what is the matter, sir?”
Isaac shook his head.
As his breathing grew ragged and he was about to collapse, Viktor strode over, seized Isaac by the arm, and pulled him up, saying to Blight,
“Fetch a doctor.”
“Y-yes!”
Startled, Blight dashed away in a panic.
Moments later, the Dampfelt family physician came rushing in.
Isaac lay on the guest room bed, writhing in pain. The doctor unwound his bandages—and with a scream, recoiled from him.
Even Viktor, who was well accustomed to gruesome sights, grimaced at what he saw. Across Isaac’s clouded eyes, countless thread-like worms were tangled together.
Even in his torment, Isaac flailed his arms to stop anyone from touching his eyes, curling up on the bed as he struggled to endure the pain.
When the doctor froze, syringe in hand, Viktor forced Isaac down and held him so the injection could be given. Thankfully, the anesthetic took effect quickly, and Isaac’s body slackened.
In a trembling voice, the doctor asked Isaac,
“M-my lord Count… w-what is that?”
Isaac, face buried in the sheets, shook his head and groped for the bandages. Soon Blight, after steadying himself with several deep breaths, fetched a fresh roll.
“Here they are.”
Isaac snatched the bandages and wrapped his eyes. He did it with practiced skill, having done so many times before, but the excessive tightness worried them. It seemed he meant to bind them so they would never come loose—though wrapping them that tightly might only worsen the pain.
As the anesthetic settled in and Isaac stopped thrashing, Blight said quietly,
“Your condition doesn’t look good. Wouldn’t it be best to answer the doctor?”
Isaac shook his head.
Seeing he was determined to say nothing, Viktor clicked his tongue once and spoke.
“Stay here a few days. I’d prefer not to send off a guest in pieces.”
“I… don’t want to leave my mansion empty.”
“I’ll send people to watch it.”
With that, Viktor left the room.
Isaac, though wracked with pain, slowly regained his composure.
The room fell silent after everyone left. Though he couldn’t see, Isaac was sensitive enough to tell by presence alone whether someone remained nearby.
For a moment, he recalled the man with the deep voice and forest-like scent.
Isaac was struck speechless by that coldness. Had that man truly loved Scarlett, as she had so proudly said?
All throughout her marriage, Scarlett had been madly in love. Just speaking her husband’s name had been enough to make her break into a radiant smile.
Scarlett didn’t really know how to receive love. She had always only known how to give.
Was she truly happy in this mansion?
The chill of the grand estate pressed sorrowfully on Isaac’s chest.
The next afternoon, Scarlett completed the clock.
Removing her monocle, she looked down at the Crimson clock, where intricate mechanisms intertwined in perfect harmony.
Yes, this was correct.
As a child, Scarlett often thought these movements resembled butterflies. Some delicate motions truly did look like the tremor of a butterfly’s wings.
In any case, now she had no choice but to bring this clock to Evil Crimson and settle things with him. It would have been nice if her parents, who had known only machines, had taught her some other way to resolve such matters—but sadly, they hadn’t.
Scarlett placed the clock on a purple cushion, then set it into a box Andrei had personally chosen.
As she prepared to depart, Andrei remarked,
“Boss, you’re like a mole.”
“A mole?”
“Yes. You can’t see ahead, and just keep charging straight forward.”
Scarlett flushed with embarrassment and laughed. Then she asked,
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. I think it’s your only charm, really.”
“Only charm…?”
Scarlett gave him a sideways glare, then pressed on the pedals.
Andrei glanced around the shop for a moment before turning back to watch her retreating figure. His face tightened.
“I’d better get back to work.”
Muttering to himself, he reentered the shop. Lately, he had been feeling somewhat confused about his duties.
Scarlett parked her bicycle in front of the main branch on Third Avenue, which dealt only in the finest Crimson clocks.
This street was lined not only with the Crimson flagship store but also with countless luxurious and famous brand shops.
Renowned as a beautiful street, it drew wealthy visitors from other countries eager to spend their money.
Scarlett gazed at the entrance of the flagship, softly lit by elegant lamps. On the glass wall of the towering three-story building were the words: Evil Crimson Clock Shop – Main Branch.
Naturally, the one whose name adorned this main branch was regarded as the true heir to Crimson’s clockmaking craft.
Scarlett had a modest dream: if Isaac safely inherited the Crimson family legacy, she wished to see her own clock displayed in a corner of the flagship.
Carrying the box, Scarlett stepped inside.
This was her parents’ wish—to create long-lasting clocks that could be passed down even to grandchildren.
But if, under Evil Crimson’s name, more counterfeit Crimson clocks continued to be sold, then eventually the compensations owed would only grow larger, and the family’s disgrace would deepen.
Even now, more and more customers were bringing in clocks for repairs.
It was a problem bound to explode sooner or later. Short-term, it would be a great loss, but in the long run, it was a mountain the Crimson family would inevitably have to cross.
Scarlett opened the door to the shop and entered.
