Anything But Study - Chapter 14

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A dark underground chamber where not a single ray of light reached.

Through the damp air, there was even a faint scent of blood.

In that pitch-black space, someone sat bound, their eyes and mouth covered.

“Mmph- mmph!”

The man struggled violently.

But no matter how much he thrashed, the tightly bound ropes showed no sign of loosening.

After struggling for some time, his movements eventually slowed, as if his strength had run out.

Yet the fear of being blindfolded and dragged somewhere unknown made his fingertips tremble with unease.

He had only been on his way home.

It had been a perfectly ordinary day, nothing unusual, no mistakes, no wrongdoings.

So why? How had he ended up here?

Step—step—

Then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the space.

Flinch.

The bound man’s body shuddered.

He instinctively knew that the owner of those approaching footsteps was the very person who had brought him here.

Stop.

The footsteps halted right before him.

Gulp.

The man swallowed hard.

He was terrified. He couldn’t guess why he’d been kidnapped and dragged into this place.

Swish—

At that moment, the cloth covering his eyes was removed, revealing his face.

The man was none other than Melia’s uncle, Varmon Anderson.

His eyes, now free to see, were filled with sheer terror.

Sometimes, ignorance—darkness—felt safer than seeing the truth.

The place was clearly not ordinary.

The air was humid and thick. It was dark everywhere. There was no way to tell where the exit was.

And in several places, faint reddish stains marked the floor and walls. As if someone’s blood had once been spilled there.

Varmon’s body trembled even harder than before.

Slowly, he lifted his head.

Before him stood a man, the one who had brought him here.

“…!!”

Varmon’s eyes went wide. His pupils looked as if they might pop out of his skull.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar face. He had just seen it earlier.

What made it worse, or rather what terrified him even more, was what the man before him held in his hand.

A sharply gleaming dagger flashed under the faint light.

“Mmph- mmphh!”

Varmon’s eyes quaked as if struck by an earthquake. If that blade pierced his body, he wouldn’t even be able to resist.

The image of himself bleeding from a stab wound flickered across his mind, and terror made him shake uncontrollably.

Right in front of him, the man’s hand gripping the dagger moved slightly.

“Mmphhh!!”

As the blade approached, Varmon let out a strangled, animalistic sound, like a pig about to be slaughtered.

He twisted his body in desperation, trying to escape somehow.

Slash—

“P-pfhh!”

But the dagger’s edge didn’t pierce his body.

It had only cut through the rope gagging his mouth.

Realizing he hadn’t been stabbed, Varmon gasped for air, breathing heavily. The moment the rope was removed, he finally spoke.

“Hah- hahh.”

Varmon panted roughly. As the tension drained from him, he felt warmth spreading down his pants.

“Tsk, filthy.”

The icy voice came from above him. That chilling tone made Varmon’s skin crawl.

Unable to control his trembling body, he asked the man before him, “W-where… where am I?!”

Varmon had no idea.

Why was this person, Lord Alfred, bringing him here?

There was absolutely no reason.

Could it be that Melia had asked him to get rid of him instead of paying money?

She was the one who hadn’t paid her debt! What had he done wrong?

“Just answer what I ask.”

But Varmon never got an answer to his question about where he was.

Faced with that pitch-black, chilling stare, he closed his mouth tight.

Instead, he realized he was the one who had to answer whatever questions were asked.

He instinctively understood that until the man before him spoke, he shouldn’t say a single word first.

“Marriage.”

“Wh-what?”

“I heard Melia almost got married.”

Even just saying the words Melia’s marriage in that cold voice carried Hailon’s displeasure.

“Answer. What was it?”

The question was short, but clear.

Varmon’s lips trembled as he barely began to speak.

“T-that, it’s because a marriage proposal came in….”

“Proposal.”

The single word cut like ice. Varmon flinched and forced his dry throat to work again through his fear.

“Y-yes. It was a good match, so….”

“How good of a match?”

It was phrased as a question, but it wasn’t really one.

Varmon’s mind went blank, unsure how to respond. Then, suddenly, he realized something.

There was nothing to hide.

No need to lie.

Judging from the question, it didn’t seem like Melia had asked this man to intervene for her.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be asking these questions.

“B-because she had to pay off her debt!”

“Debt?”

Varmon nodded quickly. “Yes! Melia’s parents borrowed a total of eight million Erin from me! And for over ten years, I still haven’t gotten my money back!”

The more he spoke, the bolder he became.

He convinced himself that arranging that marriage had been perfectly reasonable.

Melia would repay the debt, and he would get his money. Wasn’t that fair?

“But the Count of Taven offered to take Melia in and even pay off the debt. What an opportunity that was! Melia would be free from debt and live happily, don’t you think?”

It was a beautifully wrapped piece of garbage.

But Varmon looked like he truly believed it was the truth.

“So you pushed Melia’s marriage because of money.”

Varmon nodded vigorously.

Looking down at him, Hailon let out a soft, scornful laugh.

“Who do you take me for, an idiot?”

Flap—

A sheet of paper was shoved before Varmon’s eyes.

“Th-this is….”

It was a promissory note.

But there were two of them.

They looked nearly identical, yet something about them was different.

Even in the dim light, Varmon could tell them apart. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“H-how did you….”

“This is a warning.”

The chilling voice fell, and at the same moment, Hailon’s long leg shot forward.

Thud—

“Aaargh!!!”

Varmon screamed as his stomach was struck hard, his body rolling across the filthy floor.

And it didn’t stop there.

Thud— Thud—

With his hands tied, he could only take the blows helplessly.

“Guh- Kugh! Aaagh!”

Varmon gurgled, saliva dripping from his mouth as he gasped.

He seemed to be begging for mercy.

He was the same man who had shamelessly raised his hand against his young niece, yet now he couldn’t even endure this pain, trembling as tears and snot streamed down his face.

“Don’t show your face in front of Melia again.”

As if touching him any longer was filthy, Hailon withdrew his foot.

“Ever again.”

Varmon’s entire body trembled like a leaf as he nodded over and over.

Leaving Melia’s uncle behind, Hailon turned and walked out of the room.

From behind, Varmon shouted, asking if he was really leaving him there and to untie him, but Hailon didn’t care.

Whether he starved or froze to death, it didn’t matter.

After walking a few steps up the staircase that led out of the dark corridor, light gradually began to seep in.

Hailon looked down at the two promissory notes in his hand.

Melia Anderson.

A debt of eight million Erin, said to have been inherited from her parents.

It wasn’t the truth.

Hailon had already ordered someone to investigate her uncle.

How could that worthless man, drowning in gambling debts, have ever had eight million Erin to lend to her parents?

It made no sense from the beginning.

The truth Hailon uncovered was the complete opposite.

The promissory note had been forged.

The names of the lender and the borrower had been switched.

In other words, it meant Melia was the one owed eight million Erin by her uncle.

Hailon had found the unaltered original, the real promissory note, during his investigation.

With power, there was nothing he couldn’t uncover.

But Melia had probably never even thought to question the authenticity of that document.

The orphanage had been her entire world, a small, confined place.

Hailon’s gaze shifted back and forth between the two promissory notes.

She had said she needed money for her sick brother.

But even after her brother’s hospital bills were taken care of, she continued tutoring so earnestly, probably because of this debt.

‘If I return this.’

The result was obvious.

Melia would be free.

It meant that after the promised month, she would no longer have to tutor Hailon.

‘I’m sorry, Melia.’

Hailon slipped both promissory notes into his coat.

‘I can’t return them yet.’

He had to keep Melia close for a little longer.

Soon, Hailon’s eyes darkened.

Count of Taven.

That filthy old man who dared covet Melia.

It was time for him to pay the price for his greed.