The Villain's Sister - Chapter 106

Tristan gave me a look. It meant stay still.

He pressed my head down firmly so my face wouldn’t show.

He smelled faintly of sharp, clean cologne.

“Yes. What is it?”

“Nothing much. Do you happen to have a lighter?”

Turns out the man was just stepping out for a smoke.

“I don’t smoke, so I don’t have one.”

“Really? That’s too bad.”

I could feel his heartbeat pounding against my forehead.

Maybe it was because of his high body temperature, but my face started heating up.

When I fidgeted unconsciously, he tightened his arms to keep me still.

“Have we met somewhere before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“No, I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere….”

“You must be mistaken. I’ve got a pretty common face.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

His face was anything but common, and with that muscular build, it was impossible to forget after seeing it once. Watching him pretend otherwise was almost funny.

‘Wow, so he’s really not that self-aware, huh.’

When I started giggling, Tristan roughly ran his hand over the back of my head in warning.

My face was buried against his broad chest again. Each time I breathed, I could feel his chest tensing beneath me.

“Do you work for the police department by any chance?”

One of the apartment residents approached us.

It seemed they were trying to get a closer look at Tristan.

I went up on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck.

His eyes wavered slightly as he looked down at me.

Our faces were too close. The thought that he could feel my breath made me uneasy.

Tristan clenched his jaw like he didn’t know what to do.

I whispered loud enough for the resident to hear, “Focus on me, Johnny. Do you want me to scold you?”

“Oh, my. Ahem. Sorry for interrupting.”

The resident tilted their head curiously, then went back down the stairs.

Once they left, we were left in a position where it wouldn’t have been strange if our lips touched.

If Tristan leaned forward just a bit, our breaths would meet.

If I turned my head even slightly, our lips might touch.

His deep, resonant voice asked quietly.

“…I’m focusing. But is there no reward?”

The sudden tension in the air made the chilly night feel hot.

I could feel the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, and the strength in the hand holding me.

His silver-gray eyes burned faintly, and even in the darkness, I realized how clearly I could feel him.

When I didn’t say anything, Tristan lowered his head slightly.

Our foreheads touched. I couldn’t tell if the heat I felt came from my breath or his.

I slowly loosened the arms wrapped around his neck and leaned back.

Tristan’s expression faltered for a brief moment before returning to normal.

But his hand holding me didn’t move.

“Tristan?”

Tristan let out a long sigh and finally released me.

“Do you know that guy from earlier?”

“He looked like the victim who came in to report an organized crime case two weeks ago.”

“What? See? I told you, it’s because of that body of yours.”

Tristan crossed his arms over his chest primly, like some old-fashioned lady from a century ago.

His teasing act left me with only one response.

“I’m not interested in your body.”

“Sure. Must be hard to admit, I get it.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

I clenched my fist and stormed ahead, leaving the rooftop.

As soon as we got home, I darted straight into my room.

Otherwise, with how sentimental the night felt, I might’ve ended up in the same situation again.

“I’m going to bed, so keep it down and go to sleep early.”

The clock on my wrist showed 2 a.m.

Johan probably wouldn’t come back tonight.

I knew I’d done something wrong, but even if I thanked him, I wasn’t going to apologize.

My life wasn’t one worth sharing with anyone.

I couldn’t drag Johan down into the same pit.

‘I’ll need to finish bleaching my hair tomorrow.’

I’d been bored all day with nothing to do, so this worked out fine.

***

Johan still hadn’t come back even by the next afternoon.

“Tristan. We’re in trouble.”

“What now?”

Tristan, who had stayed up watching delayed sports broadcasts, woke up past noon and scratched his newly dyed hair.

“There’s no food.”

“What? Didn’t we buy a ton a few days ago?”

“There are three of us, remember?”

We had enough for breakfast and lunch, but not enough to last until dinner.

If I counted snacks as meals, I could probably stretch it, but thinking about tomorrow, we’d have to buy groceries today.

“For now, let’s just make do with what’s left, and I’ll head out later.”

“Will that be alright?”

“I’ll wear a hat and a mask. That’s what I came here for, remember? Don’t worry.”

“Forget it. Don’t take the risk. Let’s just order pizza.”

After roughly coming to an agreement, we turned on the TV as soon as we finished eating.

— Due to Raphael Moltke’s transfer operation, tensions continue between the Mist Island City Council and the central government. Mayor Maggie Giomatti announced she would officially request cooperation from Duke Heinrich von Valkenstein….

— The revelation that Anti-Venom, the leader of the underground organization Death Adder, was in fact Raphael Moltke has caused massive shockwaves. Police predict the capture of Raphael, the organization’s head, will accelerate Death Adder’s collapse and have officially declared war against the criminal underworld. Many interpret this as a direct reflection of Mayor Maggie Giomatti’s will….

— On the evening of the 28th, it was belatedly confirmed that an intruder broke into the detention center where Raphael Moltke is being held. Police claim it wasn’t an escape attempt, but rather a malfunction in the aging security system that triggered the alarm….

Raphael?

If Raphael escaped… then what would happen?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Without realizing it, I’d started biting my nails. Tristan reached over and stopped me, wrapping his hand around mine.

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

He turned off the TV.

Four days left until transfer.

Time felt cruel—sometimes rushing, sometimes crawling.

Tristan dropped a handful of candy into my palm. It meant eat and calm down.

“You two are really attached to each other.”

“That’s just how we were raised.”

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m kind of jealous. I feel bad for my little brother. Our relationship ended up like this because I wasn’t good enough.”

When I handed back the lemon candy he gave me, Tristan chuckled softly.

“The one who crushed my leg with a harpoon back then was that bastard.”

“That must’ve been hard.”

“I’ve given up caring.”

He unwrapped the lemon candy and popped it into his mouth.

“When’s that guy coming back, anyway? The landlord’s been gone so long it’s like he ran away.”

“Are you implying this is my fault?”

“I’m saying I’m worried about you. You know better than anyone that you need him right now. You said it yourself, it’s a relationship of mutual use. If you’re not planning to stay, then use him while you can.”

He said it casually, like he was talking about how bad the restaurant near the house was. Maybe that’s why it felt even colder.

“For a hero, you’re pretty heartless. It feels like you’re toying with people’s emotions.”

“You’re getting bold.”

Tristan rubbed his face dry with both hands and then lay back on the couch, lightly kicking me away with his foot.

“I’m sleeping. Go to your room.”

“You just woke up.”

“Stop bothering me and go.”

Whether it was just frustration or something deeper, he really did close his eyes.

Thinking of Johan didn’t make me feel any better either.

The memory of his eyes before he disappeared lingered like an afterimage.

I’d said the one thing I shouldn’t have to someone who’d given me his all.

‘What right do I have to mess with someone else’s perfectly fine life?’

Guilt made me say something unnecessary, but in the end, I always came to the same conclusion.

While lying on the bed, I tried to plan out my next move, but before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep.

When I opened my eyes, it was dark.

Midnight. The living room was empty.

“Tristan?”

He wasn’t in the bathroom either.

He wouldn’t have gone grocery shopping at this hour, so there was only one explanation.

‘He’s out on patrol.’

That must’ve been why he went to bed early.

‘Did he go looking for Red Shadow?’

After thinking for a moment, I pulled on my hat and mask.

My hand, shoved deep into my pocket, gripped the gun.

I left the apartment and started walking aimlessly down the street.

Then, at an intersection, I spotted a public phone booth.

After a few rings, a voice answered.

― About time you called.

“It’s disgusting that you’re the only one I can rely on, but what choice do I have? People from the underworld should rot underground.”

The coiled phone cord was already freezing early for the season.

***

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets fired by Black Pistols pierced through the oxygen tank.

Sssssss—

As blue gas leaked out, the dealer hurriedly covered his nose and backed away from the tank.

The drug gas, like blue paint spilled across the Milky Way sky, was compressed into a small sphere at Red Shadow’s command before vanishing with a faint pop.

“Bastard. It’s been a while.”

The dealer, who’d expected to die, immediately dropped to his knees the moment Black Pistols appeared.

At least Black Pistols didn’t kill people.

So it was better to confess everything and get handed over to the police than risk angering Red Shadow.

“The gas came from a wizard! He wore a black hood! Today’s the supply date, so if you go now, you might catch him!”

The dealer even revealed the exact address. When Black Pistols tied him up, he quietly bowed his head as if surrendering.

Bang!

A flare shot into the sky, signaling for the police.

A white mask turned toward Black Pistols.

Though the expression couldn’t be seen, the discontent was clear.

“What are you doing here? Have you lost your mind?”

“I came to see your face. I thought you’d be whining, but guess I was wrong.”

Snap.

When Red Shadow flicked his fingers, magic shot out like an arrow and struck the ground near Black Pistols’ feet.

The ground cracked, scattering bits of rock with sharp taps.

Unlike the screaming dealer, Black Pistols looked completely unimpressed.

“You gonna smash the black cloak and go home, or you wanna just come in?”

His tone was casual, like asking a friend, ‘Wanna hang out today?’ He fully expected Red Shadow to argue.

But the conversation took a turn the dealer couldn’t have predicted.

“Since I’m already here, I’ll handle it before I go.”

Were they always like this?

Before the dealer could make sense of it, Red Shadow knocked him out cold.

Black Pistols shoved his gun into its holster and clapped in approval.

“Good boy. Nicely done. That’s it, Harry Shadow the Second! From now on, don’t kill, just bite.”

Maybe I should just kill him right now.

Red Shadow seriously considered it for a brief moment.