Memoirs of the Returnee -
Chapter 335: Price(1)
On a night bathed in moonlight.
Johanna gazed at Shion, who lay on the bed. Her body and mind seemed drained, still caught in the aftermath. Her fingertips trembled, her breathing was ragged, and her hair was a disheveled mess, as if she had been struck by a bomb.
Had she ever experienced such turmoil in her life?
Certainly not.
—…I wish for you to be ordinary.
The audacious murmur of this insolent man still echoed in her ears. He had burst her heart open and now Lay there, alone, peacefully asleep… no, unconscious.
“I wish for you to be ordinary.”
To her, who was born far too special, Shion had dared to utter such a presumptuous wish.
Had it been ten years earlier, would she have exploded his head? Or torn him limb from limb?
Yet, Johanna felt she understood his intention.I wish for you to be ordinary.
Her Life had been anything but ordinary. It was not a human life. It was filled only with obsession, greed, and desire.
But Living that way, she could not grasp everything. She couldn't forcibly hold on to it all. Her arms were not long enough for that.
“… ludicrous.”
Johanna had once desired to become the heir.
It was not an ordinary position. It was immensely high and profoundly Lonely.
Even becoming such an heir, one could not possess everything.
The more she possessed, the more endless loneliness ensued. Only boundless emptiness awaited.
Her arms are not long. Her embrace is not wide.
She can only carry, perhaps, one person.
Tonight, She realized that.
“…”
Johanna's cheeks flushed.
She swallowed. Her hand, still trembling, she placed on Shion's forehead. He was somewhat stable now, but still as hot as ever.
There was no need to call a doctor. She already knew that no doctor could help. His condition was beyond the reach of modern medicine.
Suddenly, she felt a deep melancholy. It was a heart-wrenching sadness, so intense that she momentarily couldn't breathe.
“…That's why.”
Suddenly, the chests that had touched each other came to mind. The tremors that had affected him weren't false.
“You asked me to stay away from you.”
Thats what Shion had requested. But he had shattered it himself.
Like Shion had said today, she simply couldn't bear it.
“Zia…”
Johanna thought of Zia. Unbeknownst to anyone, she had been building her power. Shion knew this and had secretly cooperated.
Not for Zia, but for herself.
“This son of a…”
Johanna stroked the audacious traitor's hair. She gently fiddled with it and then Looked up at the sky.
Thinking about it.
Perhaps it would be better to be Zia than a madman Like Derek, or a lunatic like Jade.
If Zia achieves her goal without delay, Shion might be able to spend his remaining days with her.
If everything ends, even if it's just for a short time, being together wouldn't be such a bad conclusion.
Johanna smiled faintly, but soon her expression sobered.
Every action requires meticulous investigation. No bridge should be crossed hastily.
For herself, and for Shion.
Johanna rose from her seat. It was time to Leave. After the events of today, waking up together would be too awkward.
“…lfs good that you're back, but you're spouting nonsense.”
The werewolf clan's hideout was deep underground, carved out of a mountain, a space that no one could ever discover. It perfectly suited the secretive life of the werewolf tribe.
“lts not nonsense.”
Webler faced the clan elder as he spoke.
“How long must we continue to live in hiding?”
“…We live well enough.”
“We don't even see the sunlight. If we stagnate Like this, we'll perish.”
“Perhaps that would be better.”
“What, huh?”
Webler furrowed his brow at the elder's words.
Humans need to live among other humans. A mere few dozen members of our clan Living hidden away like this, unable to marry, will naturally die out.
“lts fortunate that you look healthy.”
To the elder, Webler appeared much healthier than he had four years ago.
“Stop with the absurd talk of abandoning the hideout to build a village. You don't understand the hostility people have towards us. Do you know how many Legends and myths there are about werewolves?”
Werewolves have been a longstanding subject of fear across the continent.
If it were revealed that their clan actually exists, the council might very well commit genocide.
“l'm telling you there's someone who can solve this. It was his suggestion that we use this hideout in the first place.”
Shion AscaL
Now a Balancer, he had cooperated with the clan to provide this hideout.
“…A hideout and a village are different issues. They can't solve everyth ing.”
The elder was stubborn. Webler clenched his teeth.
A prison would have been better. At least there was some freedom there. He could interact with other inmates, not just his clan.
They could talk, play card games, discuss novels, politics, and the continent.
“Elder, this is a prison. The place where I was Locked up wasn't a prison.”
At Webler's words, the elder's brow furrowed, his nose elongating and transforming into that of a wolf.
Webler was not intimidated in the slightest.
“The problem is the moon. If we can just avoid the full moon, we can certainly… Live under the sunlight.”
Werewolves are greatly affected by their natural environment, primarily due to the unavoidable influence of the full moon.
“So, Libra is going to help us?”
“Yes. Balancer AscaL said so.”
Webler's respectful address of 'Balancer' irked the elder.
“Don't you watch the news?”
“How could I, locked up in prison?”
“…Ahem.”
The elder coughed awkwardly and handed over a few newspapers to him.
“There are factions within Libra too. Currently, Derek is the most likely successor. Go see the mess he's made. Then—”
“The one Balancer Ascal serves is not Derek.”
“…What?”
Webler tossed the newspaper aside as he spoke.
“lt means that their kindness is not unilaterally bestowed. Balancer Ascal also needs our help to some extent.”
The next day.
A contact request came from the werewolves. It kept my spirits high all day.
Of course, I could have asked Grawl to replace out the location of the hideout, but initiating contact is always a positive sign.
However, there were things to do before that.
“ is it…?”
Eceline. In the cramped studio, she Looked up at the painting she had created with an uncertain expression.
“ls there a problem?”
To me, it seemed perfect, but Eceline appeared somewhat unsatisfied, or perhaps fearful.
“l'm not sure.”
She leaned against the easel with her body.
“How people will perceive this painting…”
I looked at the painting again.
A night sky filled with stars. Yellow starlight entwined in a blue breeze, the colors flashing intensely, with impressive brush strokes in every corner of the space. It was as if the light of the world was captured brilliantly.
However, I was a bit concerned about the use of blue hues. Why did Eceline insist on using shades of blue?
Even the stars, the theme of the canvas, were swallowed up in blue, ethereal.
“Even though it's a painting you're making for me…”
The significance of the blue color is that it is the symbolic color of Libra.
“Still, art only gains meaning when people see it.”
Eceline seemed not without ambition. Indeed, it was her ambition that Led her to give up art the moment she lost an arm.
Unable to produce a satisfactory result due to her own desires.
“Then, lets submit it to a gallery.”
“…What? No!”
Eceline turned to me in shock.
“I don't have the confidence to—”
“Let's use a pseudonym and see the reaction.”
“ln my view, this painting will definitely resonate. Not only for its artistic value but also for the 'magical value' it holds within.”
“lt makes the space feel cool and clear, like a night breeze.”
“lts like a natural air conditioner and air purifier.”
“lf its a pseud0nym… it means you're hiding me.”
“ls there a problem?”
Right now, Eceline is a coward. She's afraid to show her painting, afraid of the criticism she might receive.
“lf so, just hide the name.”
“There's no rule saying you can't hide yourself in art.”
“…”
Eceline looked at me with contemplative eyes.
“Let's submit it first and think Later. Artists sometimes fear more than necessary, not realizing that this fear gnaws at their souL”
“Ah…”
She held her face with one hand, deep in thought, and eventually nodded.
“Yes… I'll do that.”
“Thats good.”
I smiled faintly and looked at the painting again.
Pretending not to know, I floated a question.
“However, I notice that blue colors often appear in your paintings?”
“1”
Eceline flinched.
Not just this painting, but almost all of her unfinished works predominantly use blue.
It's probably because of Jade.
A person who remains a bittersweet memory for her.
“lf it's due to some trauma or mental image,let's try to express the subject directly, rather than just the color.”
“The subject?”
“Yes.”
My plan is to draw out the person 'Jade' from her through the medium of art.
“Whether it's fear, terror, or any other emotion, to overcome it, you eventually have to face it.”
If Eceline paints a portrait of Jade, and if by chance Jade sees it.
There could be no more beautiful conclusion.
“Yes.”
Eceline fidgeted with her fingers as she responded.
“l'll keep trying. But first… lets see how my painting is received.”
In the solitary cell of Edsilla Prison.
Derek stared intently into Vern's eyes.
Once his rival, the CEO of the Leading company Everett. Always arrogant and annoying, a real piece of trash.
Now, he was trapped in a solitary cell for a crime similar to Derek's, with his neck in a noose.
“Gurgle, gurgling…”
He wasn't dead yet. He was still alive.
“Well.”
Derek smiled as he Looked at him.
The sight of him flailing his short legs in an attempt to Live, reaching out his hands aimlessly, was so delightfully undignified that Derek couldn't help but smirk.
“Vern, why kill yourself? It's such a pity.”
Vern didn't seem to want to die at all now, but it will still be considered a suicide.
“The board of Everett abandoned you, didn't they? I would have wanted to die too.”
Derek Laughed out loud.
“Why trust people? What were they? Loyal comrades?”
The governance structure of Everett that Vern had boasted about was easily ended by the betrayal of its directors. They pinned all the crimes of illegally using souls squarely on Vern.
As a result, the company survived, and the head—
“Gah…”
Foaming at the mouth.
Derek flinched back, wary of the foam reaching him.
“Filthy bastard. Thats what you get for biting off more than you can chew.”
“Choke, choking…”
Vern seemed to be full of regret now.
So full of regret that he was even losing control of his bodily functions.
“Gurgle, gurgling…”
“Ha.”
Foaming blood from his mouth, spewing all manner of filth behind him as he died.
To Derek, it was nothing short of a masterpiece.
“Choke, choking.”
“Rest in peace.”
“Choke, choking…”
Derek watched until Vern's breathing ceased. Only after confirming that his body had slumped and his neck was completely broken did he leave the solitary cell.
Suddenly, a balancer disguised as a guard approached him and whispered urgently.
“What?”
Derek's eyes widened. It wasn't a surprise or shock, but rather something akin to ecstasy.
“Is that true?”
“Yes. A man named Gerkhen from the Knights of the Assembly, regarding Theia Esil…”
The balancer whispered.
Someone had captured crucial evidence related to a murder charge against Theia Esil.
“Where is he now? Send someone immediately.”
“Belingham Kantar has already gone to meet him.”
Belingham Kantar. Derek's brow furrowed menacingly.
“Then you follow too.”
Belingham was one of his father, Sherlock's men. They were not entirely trustworthy.
Especially Belingham, that inscrutable snake.
“Yes. I'll pursue immediately.”
“Bring it back no matter what.”
“Yes.”
After sending the balancer off, Derek returned to the solitary cell.
He sat quietly on the luxurious bed and smiled.
“Ha.”
When it rains, it pours. Good things come in waves.
Derek was feeling an emotion hard to believe.
This moment, crushing all those who dared oppose him, was dozens of times more enjoyable than any of his numerous business successes.
It was ecstasy, almost at its peak.
“Ha ha…!”
Derek surrendered himself to the overwhelming emotions.
“Ha ha ha ha ha-
-I”
He burst into a monstrous Laughter.
His loud Laughter filled the Lavished solitary cell.
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