Odalisque - Chapter 105

The slightly chilly air and the familiar lingering scent of the underground immediately engaged his senses.

The basement was as perfect as always. The precious works of art he had meticulously collected were displayed in their best condition. Yet, Dimus’ blue eyes, staring at them, seemed more indifferent than ever.

Nearby, a white marble statue with smooth, lifelike muscles caught his eye. Dimus reached out to touch its surface. Cold and hard.

This wasn’t it.

This was not what he wanted.

His hand, gripping the statue, tightened.

Crash!

The statue toppled under his rough grasp, shattering into countless fragments. The sharp shards scattered across the gallery floor, creating a mess. Dimus looked up, his gaze fixed on the farthest wall of the gallery.

A nude painting of a woman, her head turned halfway, hung there, seemingly mocking him.

***

He had found a meaningful lead.

The moment he heard the news, Dimus mounted his horse. It had become unbearable to wait at the Langess mansion, reading his subordinates’ reports. He couldn’t sit idly any longer, tormented by the sensations that tore through his body.

Above all, the so-called “meaningful lead” he had received was too significant to merely confirm with letters.

“This way.”

The subordinates led him to a lodging in Elke, far enough from the casino lights and the laughter of those enjoying their entertainment to be secluded.

“Ugh…”

A faint groan emerged as the door opened. However, no one in the room paid any attention to the person groaning.

Thierry, who had arrived before Dimus, was sitting beside the bed. She was cleaning bloody medical instruments when She noticed Dimus’ arrival, and she held out a steel tray.

“Here’s the bullet that was found.”

The bullet rolled across the tray, leaving small red streaks in its path, and Dimus’ eyes followed its movement.

Roman spoke in a low voice, “It’s definitely the item we were looking for.”

The gun given to Liv was one of Dimus’ own. He couldn’t fail to recognize his weapon.

He picked up the bloody bullet without hesitation and rolled it between his fingers.

Impressive.

The thought brought a fleeting smile to his lips. Though he knew he looked like a madman, he couldn’t suppress his strange joy.

The fact that the man who’d been shot was the eldest son of Viscount Karin—the one who had once pestered Liv—satisfied him. Dimus hadn’t believed the nonsense Luzia tried to spread, but nonetheless, a part of him had held on to an annoying sense of doubt. This bullet was clear proof that Liv held no lingering feelings for that man.

His joy, however, was entirely directed at Liv—not at the man before him.

“Should we treat him?”

After inspecting the bullet, Dimus shifted his gaze to the bed. The sound of labored, wheezing breaths made it seem like the man could die at any moment, but amusingly, the man lying there looked relatively unharmed. His thigh was soaked in blood, but the injury didn’t seem serious enough to be life-threatening.

Of course, if left untreated, he might end up losing a leg.

“Wake him up.”

“…Honestly, he’s a loud one. I’d rather not wake him.”

Grumbling unhappily, Thierry moved efficiently. She took out an unmarked vial and skillfully filled a syringe.

Thierry was a former military doctor who had served alongside Dimus on the battlefield. Unlike other medics, Thierry had handled a variety of tasks during their service together.

Dimus knew how to kill people, but not how to save them. Naturally, “keeping someone alive just enough” was Thierry’s job.

Just like now.

“Aaaagh!”

The man woke up screaming in pain as the syringe was mercilessly plunged into him. With his face twisted in agony, he opened his eyes, but couldn’t make sense of the situation and flailed about. Thierry clicked his tongue and stepped back.

“Who… who are you?”

The man, clutching his wounded leg and whining like a miserable dog, looked around at the people surrounding his bed with suspicious eyes.

“Where am I? A hospital?”

Seeing Thierry gathering medical instruments, hope briefly flickered in the man’s eyes.

“Jacques Karin.”

Jacques turned his gaze to Dimus. His eyes widened at the sight of Dimus’ face—not because he recognized him, but purely out of surprise at his appearance.

Dimus tossed the bullet he was holding back onto the tray and spoke, “You ran into Liv Rodaise, didn’t you?”

“That… that bitch hasn’t been caught yet? You need to catch her! She’s completely insane!”

Jacques, who had been awestruck by Dimus’ face, began to shout, his expression twisted with anger. His loud accusations, labeling her as a vicious woman, grew so loud that everyone in the room looked irritated.

Dimus, however, remained unfazed. He ignored Jacques’ words, shifting his gaze to the bandaged leg.

Though Liv had shot the gun, it didn’t seem like she’d intended to kill. It must have been an attempt to escape the immediate situation. And it hadn’t been an easy situation, either.

“She’s not the type to shoot without reason.”

This meant Jacques had clearly done something deserving of being shot by Liv.

Unfortunately, Dimus hadn’t ordered his men to keep a close watch on Jacques—only to check on him periodically. As a result, they had only arrived after Jacques had been shot. By that time, Liv had already fled, and they had simply taken Jacques.

In a city full of casinos, the back alleys were rife with crime. At first, the subordinates thought Jacques had been attacked by some ordinary thugs.

But when Jacques regained consciousness, the first thing out of his mouth had been about Liv.

“To think such a dangerous criminal is out in the streets—it’s intolerable!”

Looking at Jacques’ situation, something seemed off. Someone coming all the way here to enjoy gambling and entertainment couldn’t have been unaware of the city’s security risks. Yet, he wandered into the back alleys without any protection.

Unless, of course, he had tried to drag someone into those secluded alleys to do something.

“Just answer the question.”

“Lock her up, immediately… Aaagh!”

Jacques, who had been shouting nonsense until his face turned red, let out a scream. Dimus had pressed down mercilessly on the bandaged thigh.

Bright red blood began to seep through the bandages. Jacques struggled, trying to shake off Dimus’ hand, but the bandage became even more soaked with blood.

“I don’t want to waste my time, so prove your usefulness while you still have the chance.”

“He’s so loud,” Thierry muttered.

“I’ll talk! I’ll say anything!”

Unable to endure the pain, Jacques sobbed, curling up. A trace of contempt flickered in Dimus’ otherwise detached eyes.

Someone who couldn’t even endure this much pain.

As much as he wanted to tear out that noisy tongue, he couldn’t act on impulse. Jacques had met Liv, and there was no way to share what he saw if Dimus gouged out his eyes—he had to hear it from the man himself.

“Tell me everything—from the moment you met Liv Rodaise until she shot you.”

He could dispose of him after getting all the information.

***

Thankfully, it seemed no wanted posters had been issued yet.

Liv, checking the village’s public notice board, sighed in relief. When she hastily left Elke in a rented carriage, her mind had gone blank, and she couldn’t think straight. But now, her rationality was slowly returning.

‘To think I fired a gun…’

Liv thought of the small pistol she kept on her, one bullet missing, and sighed. She had taken it just in case but hadn’t imagined she would actually need to use it.

But if she hadn’t, she would have been in danger. Liv turned heavily.

‘Can I even use trains anymore?’

Most major stations usually had stationed police officers. There was no way Jacques, who had been shot, would stay silent—he would surely go to the police and report Liv. If that happened, wanted posters would be distributed in the cities around Elke, making her a fugitive.

“For now, we’ll have to use carriages.”

The ride wasn’t as smooth as a train, and the distance they could travel was shorter. However, avoiding inspections and changing routes flexibly was an advantage, allowing them to pass through quieter towns if needed. Whether Corida could endure the rougher journey, though, was uncertain…

‘Would it have been better to just give in once?’

If she had, would she have avoided becoming a criminal?

The thought crossed her mind for a moment, but she quickly shook her head, clearing her mind. Even though she had rolled in bed with the Marquis dozens of times, she couldn’t bear to give herself to someone as vile as Jacques Karin. No matter if what she did with the Marquis was akin to that of a courtesan, there was no reason to do the same with anyone else.

Damn Jacques Karin. Was this what people called a cursed fate?

Running into Jacques Karin in Elke had truly been an unfortunate accident for Liv.