Ch.313313. Retribution (2)

●

“…Haah.”

My shoulders are stiff.

It was evidence that fatigue was accumulating in my body due to the successive fierce battles.

“…”

I look down at the doll “modeled after Faynol” that I just defeated.

In truth, compared to the power of the “original,” it’s hard to say it was that strong.

Having been called to the Red Night incident and directly confronted the Red Demon, the difference is like that between a major forest fire and a match flame.

But.

‘-That bastard.’

I feel a chill in one corner of my mind as I glare at Mobius sitting in the control booth.

Unless that guy is a fool, he must know that this kind of thing can’t effectively restrain me.

But.

It feels bad.

The unnecessary resemblance to Faynol’s appearance, and even mimicking his voice and behavior patterns.

Even making an expression like it was betrayed when falling to me.

As if it was deliberately designed to give me the feeling of killing a “close person” with my own hands.

“…”

I temporarily push aside the emotions that are boiling up and accumulating in one corner of my mind.

[…It’s a bit dangerous.]

‘What?’

[Fatigue and anger cloud judgment. If there’s a trap, you’ll easily fall for it.]

‘I know.’

[For someone who claims to know, you’re getting dangerously heated over this. There’s no reason to fall for such cheap provocation.]

‘…’

I take a deep breath and organize my tangled thoughts at Calivan’s words.

He’s right.

Falling for the enemy’s trap while knowing what it is would be foolish. And knowingly continuing to be foolish would make me an idiot.

[Tell me honestly.]

‘What?’

[…Do you have any bad memories related to ‘this kind of experience’?]

‘What kind of experience?’

[I’m asking if you’ve directly witnessed people around you dying.]

His voice is stiff and piercing, not mocking or sarcastic.

Considering this person’s usual way of speaking, this could be considered an extremely serious demeanor.

That’s proof of how serious my current state must appear.

[If just seeing things that ‘resemble’ people close to you die shakes your mind this much, there can only be that reason.]

‘…I don’t think this is the time for psychological counseling.’

[You’re falling for it even though you know better. Like salt being poured on an unhealed wound.]

Gunshots.

Bloodstains.

Snow-white patient gown stained red.

Several twisted, torn, and faded images flash through my mind.

“…Later, Calivan.”

But these aren’t what I’m recalling now.

Especially not when there’s an “enemy that needs to be eliminated” right in front of me.

[…Damn it.]

I can hear Calivan clicking his tongue at my firm attitude.

He probably indirectly realized from my attitude.

That it’s a memory seated in such a “deep place” that I’m reluctant to even speak of it.

[You’re walking into a trap right now. Just know that.]

I know that.

That’s why I’ve prepared a solution.

Thinking that, I look at the Minister behind the stage.

His face is still worried. He squeezes his hands tightly and moves only his lips to ask me.

-Will you do it?

Instead of answering, I just give a faint smile.

Of course.

I don’t fail.

I’ve done enough of that in the past.

●

She doesn’t remember when, how, or what process led to this situation.

The memories that Elnore was diving into all originated from Darwood’s consciousness, so it was clear that she couldn’t properly recognize things that he didn’t clearly remember either.

Everything about how the girl was kidnapped passes by vaguely. It probably wasn’t that important to this man.

However, the reason wasn’t difficult to guess.

Just like in her world, in Darwood’s world too, the wealthy have many enemies. Whether it’s wealth or honor, accumulating anything always creates competitors, and competition is undoubtedly an act that brings out the worst in people.

The girl’s kidnapping must have been entangled with such dirty affairs.

Competition over business involving underhanded tactics.

And, as mentioned earlier.

It was clear that such things were completely unimportant to Darwood.

Even in the remnants of memories that must be decades old, some things remain distinct.

When breaking through the building where the kidnapped girl was being held, all the “information” about the situation at that time.

The structure of the building briefed in advance, the number of enemies inside,

Every pebble, every brick, every speck of dust—all remained vividly in Darwood’s memory.

As if revealing how important it was for him to overcome that situation.

More precisely, as if revealing how precious the girl’s existence was to this man.

This was evident just by seeing how he used all the “skills” accumulated through years of training with ferocity.

‘No wonder he seemed familiar with fighting.’

Following behind Darwood, Elnore smirked.

She had already finished her background check on him long ago, when she first fell for him.

In that respect.

The Campbell Barony where Darwood was born and raised was certainly not a place that could have nurtured the judgment he had shown in emergency situations.

Naturally, someone unfamiliar with fighting could never do such things.

But if he had accumulated enough skill to do this smoothly before “being born” as Darwood Campbell, it wouldn’t be so strange.

However, the difference from now is:

‘He has no hesitation.’

If asked to think of one word that represents Darwood Campbell’s actions, it would definitely be “planning.”

A person who calculates hands and threads based on information advantage, carefully treading on variables that will occur later and moving forward.

But.

“B-block him!”

“What the hell is this guy!”

He’s like a rhinoceros charging into the building, beating, shooting, killing, and destroying everything in front of him.

It’s a charge that could be called reckless. Not caring about consequences, not worrying about aftermath, doing whatever it takes to achieve the immediate goal.

‘…In that sense, they’re alike.’

In terms of not caring about the means to achieve a goal, it’s exactly like the Darwood she knows.

But this feeling now.

‘He’s desperate.’

It’s the feeling of someone desperately trying not to lose what they’ve gotten their hands on.

The emotional color permeating this entire memory could be described as “desperation.”

The struggle of someone born in the slums with nothing, trying to protect the first precious thing they’ve ever had.

So he becomes impatient.

Not caring about his own well-being at all, putting all judgment aside, sacrificing everything to charge forward for the result alone.

‘…Isn’t it dangerous?’

She has seen this kind of behavior several times before.

It seems this personality trait of rushing in regardless of danger when someone close is threatened has been there from the beginning.

Despite continuing such reckless charges with no regard for his own safety, he somehow manages to succeed and reach the “end” every time.

The memory fast-forwards.

Dozens of people were guarding the building, but somehow Darwood managed to break through.

And at the end of such a situation.

The image of a girl with a gun pointed at her temple appears. The image of Darwood standing before her, battered and torn, also appears.

The one holding the girl hostage seems more nervous. It’s a natural reaction when faced with an opponent who has displayed such monstrous combat ability.

“D-don’t come any closer-!”

Darwood expressionlessly alternates his gaze between the girl and the man holding her hostage with trembling hands.

“Stay there for a moment.”

Darwood’s voice sounds dull as he says this.

While changing the magazine of the small firearm in his hand, he continues in a calm voice.

“…You-“

The girl, who was barely standing with drowsy eyes as if drugged,

Seems to have regained consciousness upon hearing his voice, and only then discovers Darwood’s presence. Her eyes widen.

Then, they fill with tears.

“…What a state you’re in, stupid.”

Darwood’s body suddenly flinches at the sight. As if feeling extreme pain.

Then, a mocking voice follows.

“Ha, ha! Putting on airs when you can barely stand!”

One might think so.

It would be rational to think that way.

But no.

That’s not it.

‘-Ah, I see.’

Only Elnore understands what that reaction means.

She can understand Darwood’s heart right now.

Physical pain can be endured. Even the pain of a mind pushed to its limits burning through the entire body can be endured.

What cannot be endured is seeing the person to whom you’ve given your entire heart be even slightly sad.

That’s the emotion she always feels when looking at Darwood.

To Darwood, that girl was such an existence.

Someone who entered a realm that neither Elnore nor any other woman had ever reached.

“…”

Then.

The reason must be here.

The reason why they could never enter the deepest part of Darwood’s heart.

The emotion coloring the edge of the memory she was treading was.

Terribly black.

If expressed in words.

‘A sense of loss.’

The source of the “fear” he harbored was at the end of this memory.

●