Bailonz Street 13
Chapter 100: Worth (3)

An unanswered question resurfaced. It wasn’t like Eros and Psyche, yet I still couldn’t understand why El remained hidden in the darkness, never revealing himself to me.

‘Is he also my enemy?’

Like the Black King?

Considering how he had appeared to me so far, it was clear he bore me no ill will. However, the timing of his appearance was undeniably suspicious.

El showed up just as the functions of the system started disappearing one by one. The more episodes I progressed through, the more I heard El’s voice.

Could it be… that he was the one who took away the system’s functions from me?

El’s voice warning me echoed in my mind. He had saved me from the brink of death, preserving my sanity. He clearly didn’t want me dead, at least not like the Black King or Clara Barnum.

With a thin strand of hope, I called out into the void.

“El?”

No answer came. It was disappointing, but the ringing in my ears had been constant for a while, so it was okay. I had heard it both in the carriage and in Clara’s house. El was trying to reach me. All I needed to do was respond to his effort.

＊ ＊ ＊

When Liam Moore regained consciousness, the bright morning sunlight stabbed at his eyes. As soon as he opened his eyes, a wave of nausea hit him, and he bent over. His throat burned.

“Ugh….”

The retching continued for some time. Curled up on the floor, Liam Moore panted. His eyes widened at the sight of the dark red blood spilling uncontrollably.

‘Why?’

Another wave of blood spewed out, staining the floor and his hands. Yet, his mind was filled with nothing but questions.

‘How?’

It was a cruel sensation.

The spell he had cast on Jane Osmond was completely shattered, torn to pieces. Someone had forcibly broken through his protection and taken Jane away. He could feel it.

The backlash had undoubtedly caused him to faint. His limbs still throbbed with a numbing pain, as if they were being pounded to break his will. The one who broke the spell had also cast a curse on him, so this pain was somewhat expected.

How many years had this incident shaved off his life?

“…About two years, I’d say.”

A hoarse voice escaped his cracked lips.

As he struggled to stand, his vision spun. His grey eyes narrowed as he observed his trembling fingers.

He had made a grave mistake. Once again, he was too late. Only after regaining his senses did he realise that something terrible had happened to Jane.

Jane was likely with someone of similar magical prowess as Liam. To break his spell, that was the implication.

Why hadn’t he prepared for this!

Even so, the curse laid on him was weakening his body. Another curse wouldn’t be a problem, but his body was already in an extremely weakened state. He had not yet recovered from the aftermath of being tormented as a pawn of the dark gods. Using his power in such a state was eating away at his life.

“I must hurry….”

Muttering like a madman, he donned his coat. The dark red bloodstains on his sleeves and trousers no longer mattered.

He had no idea how many more times he could use his power. He had broken the rule of not using glass. Just when things seemed to settle, he used it repeatedly. It was a wonder the vessel hadn’t shattered. But losing Jane Osmond forever was a far worse outcome, wasn’t it?

“Absolutely. It’s a small price to pay.”

He muttered to himself as he started walking, squinting at the sunlight swirling like a mirage.

They had started to move. The counterparts in Greenwich, the vulgar opponents who worshipped society and loved the dying god.

“Jane.”

His anxiety spiked. He couldn’t go to Jane. Fortunately, he remembered the location where she had planned to meet her friend. Something might have happened on the way back. Or perhaps the so-called friend was not human. He had to hurry.

He roughly wiped his mouth with his sleeve and shouted.

“Driver!”

＊ ＊ ＊

Arriving at the location, Liam Moore confronted a long-standing malice.

A cunning and malevolent web aimed solely at Jane Osmond enveloped the entire house. A trap, woven over an unknown period, distorted reality and impaired perception. Jane, having just begun to cross the threshold, couldn’t have responded swiftly.

Clara Barnum’s house was empty. The only signs of life were in the dining room, where rotten food and a broken bottle of wine remained.

No, there was a sound. A large man lay on the floor, eyes closed. His slightly tanned skin and attire suggested he was a sailor.

The air still carried a pungent, ominous smell. Hidden cleverly behind the wine, Liam recognized the distinctive scent, akin to licorice. There was only one place in London with such a scent.

“Opium.”

Sifting through the glass shards with his cane, he stood up.

Clara Barnum must have fed Jane this cursed drug. This amount could knock out even a burly sailor in an instant.

Without waking the man, Liam quietly exited the mansion. The confusion upon waking was the man’s own problem. He didn’t have the luxury of being that considerate.

He immediately turned and knocked on the neighbouring house’s door. After a moment, the door opened slowly, revealing a young servant with a puzzled look.

“Do you know anything about the house next door?”

Liam Moore asked bluntly, skipping the pleasantries. The young servant blinked and looked at the house next door.

“Do you mean Barnum House?”

“Yes, Barnum House.”

“It’s been empty for quite a while. The owner stopped coming around last November. You might replace out where they moved by checking with the agent.”

Damn it. Liam Moore cursed inwardly and shook his head. It was better to chase direct clues than waste time.

“Do you know the owner’s occupation?”

“Something like Barnum and Jackson, a company owner. I think they were in the shipping business.”

“Do you have their address?”

“Do you have a pen?”

Sensing Liam Moore’s urgency, the young man scribbled an address in his notebook.

“No need for a reward.”

“…Thank you.”

Fortunately, the company wasn’t far from here. He wasted no time heading to the shipping company.

But the scene was the same. Empty, devoid of people. Only discarded documents and a janitor remained. He hastily asked the janitor about the company’s status, but received meaningless replies.

“They went bankrupt and laid off everyone. Are you a debt collector?”

“No, I’m looking for the owner.”

“Miss Barnum? I haven’t seen her for months. Without the owner, the company couldn’t function, so they decided to close it down.”

Liam Moore frustratedly ruffled his hair. The neatly combed short hair was now dishevelled.

Should he seek Owen Cassfire? But he, too, was likely still recovering. Asking him to exert himself would be akin to sending Owen to his grave.

“A dead end….”

He was in a situation where he couldn’t retreat or advance.

Magic wasn’t omnipotent. If he were a myth or a legendary being, it might be different, but humans have their limits. At times like this, Liam resented his very existence.

‘You call it a miracle when it can’t even save a person?’

Ridiculous. There’s nothing humans can’t do. If there were, he would simply ignore it. He was ready to pay any price, whether it meant sacrificing the rest of his life or giving up a part of his body. There were countless ways to pay, and Liam Moore was prepared for all of them.

From a very young age, he had seen things he found utterly detestable.

That was his curse. As the price for seeing what shouldn’t be seen, they had taken his entire life! Liam Moore, cursed, had to live his life seeing these things!

A voice whispered in his ear. It was fate. Losing Jane Osmond was your destiny.

“…As if I’d give up so easily.”

A faint sneer escaped his lips. Fate was meant to be defied. Ever since ancient myths, there had been those who struggled to break free from prophecies. If he tried enough times, he could protect her.

Liam Moore moved his hand. It was still numb, but he had regained enough sensation. It was enough to fight. Thankfully, he still had that much strength.

The entities still circling him sneered.

“Get lost….”

A hot pain surged from within. Liam groaned, leaning against the wall. Then he felt a small vibration from his pocket watch. The hands of the watch were moving very quickly.

This meant only one thing,

‘Meridian is shaking.’