SIWALL Ch 26

“I mentioned earlier that I dabbled in writing romance novels for a bit, boss. Mr. Generwin said he was deeply moved by that novel and asked me for an autograph. Put simply, it’s pretty similar to the situation between Mr. Loran and me~”

The anger lingering on Arzen’s face vanished in an instant. He looked down at Elliot with a slightly bewildered gaze.

“Then why didn’t you just say from the beginning that you were going to the cafe?”

“….”

For a second, Elliot almost threw a punch at Arzen—though he managed to hold back easily because he knew he’d die the moment he did.

Did you give me any time to speak, you ruthless bastard?

However, since he couldn’t actually say that, Elliot hesitatingly opened his mouth.

“Even if I told you… I figured you wouldn’t believe me.”

“What?”

“Even right now, you immediately suspected me of being a spy. Before that, and before that, continuously….”

Arzen now definitely looked flustered. Elliot lowered his head deeply and put the finishing touch on his persona as a ‘pitiable, wronged, ordinary part-time worker.’

“It’s fine. As for me… I’m just a hired employee, after all. It makes sense for you to suspect me….”

Elliot lifted his head and smiled.

The tactic known as ‘smiling with forced composure and grit.’

Elliot deployed the ultimate counter-boss secret weapon that had worked nine times out of ten. Originally, it was a method that worked well with older bosses or bosses who had children, but it also proved quite effective on people who usually acted cold.

Sure enough, Arzen crumpled his expression. Delicate furrows resembling the cliff strata of the Grand Canyon were carved between his brows. It was a sight, a magnificent view. Trying his best not to gasp in awe, Elliot maintained his weak smile.

“Elliot Brown.”

“Yes….”

Elliot replied listlessly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Y-yes… wha-what?”

“I’m not apologizing for having suspected you before, though. I have to suspect people to survive, too.”

Arzen took a step closer to Elliot. A dark, giant shadow enveloped Elliot’s entire body. Arzen pulled the arm of Elliot, who was staring up blankly, and gently pulled him to his feet.

“But today….”

Arzen’s gaze landed on Elliot’s reddened neck. Then, his gaze slowly rose to take in Elliot’s crooked glasses and the bewildered pair of eyes behind them. Elliot felt as though invisible little water droplets were tapping against his entire body.

“I definitely seem to have been in the wrong. I was being far too sensitive coming outside.”

Arzen offered a greeting according to etiquette with fluidly graceful and restrained composure. He placed one hand over his left chest and bowed slightly at the waist.

“Elliot Brown, I’m sorry. Neither forget nor forgive today’s me. I won’t either.”

That was truly aristocratic speech and behavior. It was the first proper apology Elliot had received since coming to this world—no, the first proper apology he had ever received in his life.

The moment he realized that, Elliot abruptly clutched at his own chest with his hand.

“B-, boss, all of a sudden, why….”

“What is it? Does something hurt?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… when you say it like that, it feels a little… strange.”

This was his first time feeling a sensation like this in his life.

Was receiving an apology supposed to feel like this? The feeling that his heart was beating way too fast, a strangely buoyant feeling, and at the same time, a stinging, aching sensation in his chest. A feeling somewhere between itchy, suffocating, and burning hot.

Maybe Arzen was right. Maybe I really have lost my mind.

“Are you hurt?”

Arzen hastily pulled his hood back up, pulled Elliot’s shoulders to wrap around him, and slipped his arm behind the back of Elliot’s knees. Scooping Elliot up like a princess in an instant, Arzen began to run down the alley. Elliot let out a screech.

“Wha-, wha-, what are you doing?”

As Elliot asked in surprise, shrinking back, Arzen lowered his eyes beneath his hood and replied.

“Compensation for my mistake.”

And Arzen plowed through alley after alley at a speed unbelievable for a human.

Instinctively, Elliot buried his forehead against Arzen’s solid, thick chest. The sound of the wind brushing past his ears like a blade whistled sharply, and he could also hear the sound of Arzen’s feet moving restlessly, patter-patter.

However, Elliot was listening solely to Arzen’s slightly rapid, steady heartbeat transmitted through his forehead. It was slower than Elliot’s own, but it was beating large and clear.

For some reason, Elliot felt embarrassed listening to that heartbeat. Just as he tightly clutched the hem of Arzen’s cloak because of it:

“Don’t strain yourself. I won’t drop you.”

Arzen’s blunt, low voice reached his ears faintly on the breeze. Arzen muttered right after.

“Though since you’re so utterly frail and haven’t an ounce of strength in your hands, you might just let go of your own accord.”

With those words, Arzen hugged Elliot tightly enough to squeeze the life out of him and accelerated his pace even further.

“I-, I can’t breathe! Suffocating! Ugh!”

Elliot’s heart thrashed frantically.

It’s scary. It’s way too scary.

Thanks to that, all the complicated emotions from a moment ago vanished completely beyond the realm of terror.

The place Arzen took Elliot to was a shop on Hemp Street. An old woman with white hair sat listlessly inside a shabby shop lacking even a signboard or a display stand.

“You back?”

The old woman treated Arzen with the familiarity of someone who had seen him many times. Judging by the fact that Arzen didn’t point out her rudeness either, she seemed to be a regular of this shop. Dropping Elliot down in front of the old woman, Arzen said:

“Check this one’s condition. He says his body feels strange. And his neck… was injured, too.”

“Looks healthy enough.”

At that, Arzen flipped back his hood and slightly nudged up the hilt of his sword with his thumb. It was the same threat he had used on Elliot earlier.

Coming from a country steeped in Confucianism, Elliot felt like he was about to faint.

What on earth is that jerk doing to an old lady right now!

“Please don’t mind him, ma’am. Grand Duke… er, boss, you too. I’m healthy.”

“Your mouth.”

“….”

At Arzen’s reprimand, Elliot shut his mouth. Once he did, a sense of unfairness welled up, too. It wasn’t as if Arzen had said anything remarkable. He had merely uttered the single word ‘mouth,’ yet he had turned into a mute all on his own—it was ridiculous beyond words. He was no better than Pavlov’s dog.

Irritated all by himself, Elliot opened his mouth again.

“It’s not like this is the first time I’ve gotten a scratch like this. I’m really fine, boss~”

Elliot smiled with his eyes curved into crescents and swiveled his neck back and forth, where the red mark still lingered faintly. However, perhaps it had the opposite effect, as Arzen’s expression grew even darker.

“You are not fine.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I’m fine.”

“I said no.”

“Look at those two going at it.”

He heard the old woman mutter. Annoyance flared up slightly in Elliot as well at the parade of denials that kept dragging on like wordplay. In the end, raising his voice for the first time, he cried out as if frustrated:

“I’m genuinely totally fine. I said I’m fine. I’m telling you I’m fine! It’s my body, so why—”

“You are not fine.”

Without yielding, Arzen spoke one more time. His gaze was dead serious, utterly devoid of even a hint of playfulness.

“I’ve seen many soldiers who claimed they were fine. Do you know what they all have in common?”

“Um… they’re kind?”

At Elliot’s answer, the old woman nearby let out a strange laughing sound resembling ‘Pfft.’

“Kind, my foot. They’re all his subordinates, aren’t they?”

Clucking her tongue, the old woman scanned Elliot up and down.

“Now that I look at him, he’s a young man whose shell is completely fine and nothing else.”

“The old woman is right.”

Arzen said, easily pressing Elliot down onto a small wooden stool.

“Those soldiers were all my subordinates. Every single one of them said they were fine right in front of me, without a single exception. I believed that was the truth… and then I lost them.”

“I’m… not a soldier—”

“At any rate, you’re my subordinate. That means I know you have no choice but to say you’re fine in front of me.”

With that, Arzen looked toward the old woman. Sighing and muttering something under her breath, the old woman fetched something from a drawer behind the counter. Held in her withered hand was a small, round, bright pinkish-red bead.

“What’s your name?”

The old woman asked bluntly.

“Me? I’m Elliot Brow—”

The moment Elliot opened his mouth wide to pronounce his name, the old woman hurled the bead straight into his mouth. At the same time, the old woman’s emaciated hand, with skin stretched tight over bones, struck precisely against Elliot’s injured windpipe with the edge of her palm. While Elliot was flustered and stammering, the bead slid right down past his throat with a gulp.

“Cough, wh-, what on earth is this…!”

“Can’t you just give it to someone properly?”

Arzen glared at the old woman reprovingly.

“Just feeding it to him is enough. This is the instant fix.”

The old woman shrugged her shoulders while looking away. It was truly an unsettling sight.

“What… is this?”

Elliot asked, meaninglessly rubbing around his neck. A look of trouble surfaced on Arzen’s face.

Why does his expression look like that? What is this?

It was right around then that he genuinely started to feel truly uneasy.

“Huh?”