Varkan lowered his eyes. Hắn nhìn chằm chằm vào bàn tay gầy gò, rũ rượi như cành cây đã tàn hoa, đang nằm trên tấm ga trải giường màu đỏ.
That was the hand that until yesterday he considered lewd because of its white skin and pink fingertips. But now, it is covered with red bruises, like a field of tulips blooming in spring.
Varkan looked down at the scene with dry eyes, habitually putting the cigar in his mouth and chewing. Then he used his fingertips to create fire and asked.
“Why did this happen?”
The recipient of the question that was suddenly uttered without beginning or end was a pink-haired man.
“It's because she has a fever.”
Varkan absentmindedly looked at his loyal head butler. Kể từ khi nhặt Chellos, người lăn lộn trong vũng bùn hẻm tối, về, hắn luôn tuân theo mọi mệnh lệnh của Varkan một cách tuyệt đối. In fact, it was Chellos who delivered the wedding car to the Elorance mansion.
Varkan thought that he had been accompanying Chellos for such a long time that he was bored. But the sight of Chellos, in a perfect black tuxedo, fanning Irel's high fever, was something quite different for him.
“We've only slept together once and we're already bedridden.”
“Because she is weak.”
Responding to Chellos, Varkan curled his long lips and quietly smoked his cigar. Previously, the strong smell of medicine would numb his senses, bringing a feeling of peace, but today, he did not feel very satisfied.
Có lẽ là cái cảm giác khó chịu, như thể đang nhai tạp chất còn sót lại trong túi trà rẻ tiền sau khi đã quen uống loại trà ngon hảo hạng. Varkan understands where that frustration comes from.
‘Probably because I tasted the real thing.’
Irel Elorance is a weak woman who can break even if touched. However, the Receiving she brought was extremely satisfying, to the point that even he was surprised.
Masaka is an existence created to destroy Keytan, those who harm humanity. Therefore, their abilities essentially stem from the aura of death, the Evil Qi (死氣).
Evil Qi is a powerful offensive weapon, but on the other hand, it is also a poison that gnaws at Masaka's body. That's obvious. In any case, Masaka, who are worshiped as children of the Lord God, are just mortals.
Unlike Masaka, who is filled with the aura of death, Receiver is an existence with an abundant aura of life. Therefore, Masaka poured out his Evil Qi to the Receiver, and in return, absorbed their life force. This is the ritual called ‘Receiving’.
Varkan does not like Irel Elorance at all. More precisely, he despises all Receivers, including her. But he couldn't help but admit the fact that Receiver was a special existence.
Because the Receiving that Irel Elorance brought was damn good.
‘So wonderful that it would be a shame to kill.’
Varkan took another deep breath of his cigar, glancing at Irel lying on the bed. Her pale face was covered in rashes from fever, and she looked lethargic. That is the legacy of Receiving.
Varkan did not take too much vitality from her. If I had to make an analogy, it would just be to taste a little flavor instead of enjoying a main feast. Yet Irel was bedridden, almost half a corpse. Obviously she couldn't last long under a strong Masaka like him. What a pity.
‘Even so, he has no intention of giving up.’
Two days have passed since the first Receiving. But Varkan can still remember the feeling vividly, as if it happened just seconds ago.
Living as a Masaka is like wallowing in a quagmire of pain with a body full of pus. Hands, feet, mind, heart, there is no place that is not rotten or tarnished. But the moment he poured his Evil Qi into her and absorbed the life force, all the pain became refreshing, as if being washed away with clean water.
Although she had doubts since she used her ability at the hat shop, Irel, unlike her weak body, has quite an outstanding Receiver ability. If other Receivers only know how to 'store' their abilities like treasure hidden in a warehouse, then Irel knows how to take it out and 'use' it.
‘Of course, whether it is a coincidence or not requires further observation.’
Historically, the number of receivers who know how to promote their abilities is not many. If one of them was his Receiver, it would be quite an interesting story. Of course, provided that she can endure it for long.
“… It's not like you're going to die right now.”
Varkan let out a long breath of smoke, looking at Irel's profile, who had not yet regained consciousness. His plans are endless, if she dies early it will be meaningless.
“She will die.”
At the echoing answer, Varkan doubted his ears.
“What?”
He furrowed his bushy eyebrows and glared at his subordinates. Chellos, with an expressionless expression, avoided his eyes but still quietly added.
“If you keep smoking that stuff in front of Receiver… she won't last long.”
Chellos' eyes were clearly directed towards the cigar clamped between his fingers. Only then did Varkan realize his subordinate's intentions. He sneered.
“Ha.”
He thought she was a noble lady who didn't understand life, but it turned out she also had tricks. Look at Chellos, who is normally as discreet as an iron wall, secretly supporting her like that.
Of course, Varkan has no doubts that Chellos has any feelings for Irel. Even though time changes everything, a bear cannot suddenly become a fox.
Humans cannot escape their innate nature. Chellos is no exception. He would rather die than be the one who dares to covet his master's woman. Just…
‘Probably pitying her.’
What a surprise. He thought Chellos, who came from the slums, would be a little displeased with Irel, who grew up in luxury and jewels.
In any case, Chellos' words were not wrong. Irel only inhaled cigar smoke indirectly from him. But even that was definitely too much for her weak body.
In fact, every time he sucked on a cigar, Irel's condition deteriorated rapidly. Remembering that, Varkan absentmindedly looked down at the cigar in his hand. But he did not extinguish the fire burning at the tip of the cigarette.
“Forget it, just let her die.” He slightly curled his lips and blurted out impatiently.
"No matter what, the woman will die. Just don't collapse immediately."
It's cruel, but it's the truth. The person who killed Receiver was not secondhand cigarette smoke, but Masaka himself. He intended to cling tightly to Irel like a disgusting parasite, and greedily absorb the life force crystals that fell from her eyes.
But now she has to give up cigars because she is worried about her health. It was a comedy, a mockery, and nothing short of a deception to Irel. Because, once she caught his eye, her death was decided.
“Wake up quickly, my princess.” We don't have much time left to be together. Varkan rested his chin, narrowed his eyes and whispered lazily.
But his finger holding the cigar moved towards his lips, contrary to his words. In the dim bedroom, the bridge of his nose was sharp and his lips glowed red under the light of the burning cigarette.
Seeing that scene, Chellos shook his head slightly. Then seeing Irel, who had just sweated a lot and shivered like she was cold, he immediately brought a thicker blanket to cover her. However, the hand that carefully covered the blanket did not touch Irel even by mistake.
The carriage stopped on the neatly trimmed green lawn. The dark red mahogany door decorated with gold opened, and from inside stepped out a slender beauty with silver hair.
Putting his feet on the ground, Irel raised his head. Before her eyes was a magnificent, towering marble mansion, blending brilliant cobalt blue and elegant emerald green.
‘Home.’
Irel's eyes looked up at Earl Elorance's Mansion, with an indescribable emotion. Although her face was somewhat haggard from being sick for a few days, her expression at this moment was extremely radiant.
To be honest, she didn't think Varkan would keep his promise. She thought she would forever be imprisoned by him, helplessly exploited. However, surprisingly, he kept his word.
When Irel recovered from his illness and woke up, he happily had someone prepare a carriage. Even though she was always half-believing and half-suspecting on the way, the carriage actually brought her to the front of Earl Elorance's Mansion and then left.
'Maybe he's not as hopelessly evil as I thought.'
Irel just thought that and was about to walk towards the house. Apparently the carriage had left, but the sound of hooves clattering from behind could be heard again.
Did the coachman forget something and turn back? Irel tilted her head in confusion and turned back to look, her face immediately turned pale.
‘That is not the carriage I was riding in.’
The carriage was so dark in color that it lost its luster, looking huge and threatening. Those wheels that could run to the end of the world crushed the soft grass, then stopped in front of Irel.
And… Crap—
From the open carriage door, a pair of long legs stretched out, and a stunningly beautiful man stepped down. His perfect eyes, as if painted with a delicate brush, frowned as if they didn't enjoy the sunlight after so many days of not seeing them.
Just a moment later, a seductive smile spread across his face when he spotted Irel. He smiled mischievously, as if he couldn't hide his amusement at her surprised, disbelieving face.
“This is the place.” The man looked away from her, looked up at Earl Elorance's Mansion and spoke.
“Your home.”
His red hair sparkled magically in the sunlight, like gold dust shining inside a transparent ruby. But seeing that, Irel was not shaken but almost had a heart attack.
“Why, why do you… why did you come here…” Irel stammered and asked. Varkan looked down at her with puzzled eyes, then reached out and held her trembling hands tightly. He rubbed his lips on the back of her small hand, begging to speak.
“Calling me ‘brother’ is insensitive. Please call me Varkan.”
His voice asked her to call her name, as passionate as a lover's whisper. Irel, as if wanting to shake off that invisible bond, asked again.
“Now the address is not important, why are you at my house…”
“Varkan.”
Varkan smiled brightly, interrupted her and repeated. Although brief, his voice was much more menacing than before.
Every time he behaved like that, Irel clearly felt the difference in status between her and him. It's so angry that a weak person like her has no choice. It was wiser to obediently comply when Varkan pretended to make an offer with the mercy of the strong.
“… Varkan.”
“Very good.” Varkan smiled brightly. Like smart people often do, he hated wasting time on pointless and annoying arguments.
[Ting! Varkan's favorability has increased by 1.]
Even though the increase in sympathy was not significant, Irel was not happy. She used her pale, frightened eyes to stare at Varkan's brutally handsome face, then looked at the Elorance Mansion behind her.
The scene she always saw in her nightmares was about to come true right now.