The Villain's Sister - Chapter 12

*This episode contains depictions of domestic violence and psychological trauma. Please use discretion.

I met Tristan on Friday morning.

I took Johan to see a doctor on Saturday.

Raphael left the house on Sunday.

Before I knew it, I was having conversations with a hero, an antihero, and a villain depending on the day of the week.

I must be the only one on Mist Island living like this.

‘Raphael said he’d be back in three days, so it’ll be Tuesday night.’

I hoped he wouldn’t come back injured.

I also hoped Death Adder wouldn’t expand its influence any further.

While running the laundry and scrubbing Johan’s bloodstains off the floor, the bell rang.

“Deva. It’s me!”

“Liam?”

When I opened the door, Liam came in, arms full of paper bags.

There was so much it blocked his view, so I had to guide him to the kitchen.

“What’s all this?”

“Raphael was very insistent. This is grilled salmon, this is duck… Oh, I also bought the dessert you said you wanted. Do you know I waited two hours in line at O.H. for this? I had Maria’s delivered separately.”

“Thank you so much. Even if it’s a request from Raphael, this can’t be easy… You’ll stay for dinner, right?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is. And I can’t eat all this alone without Raphael.”

“Raphael does eat quite a lot.”

“Quite a lot? I’ve never seen Raphael eat just ‘quite a lot.’ He devours everything like he’s sweeping it up.”

I laughed as I began preparing dinner with what Liam had brought.

“And the patient?”

“Johan’s in the upstairs guest room.”

“He got hurt trying to save you, right? Is that true?”

“It’s true.”

“If he can’t go to the hospital, that means he’s dangerous… Should I stay the night?”

“Uh…”

Liam was the only one among Raphael’s subordinates who was trusted enough to come and go from our house freely.

He wasn’t a special forces veteran like Raphael, but he was strong enough to protect himself and always treated me well, just as he was loyal to Raphael.

That’s why I considered whether it would be better to have Liam here rather than be alone in the house with Johan.

“It’s okay. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

There weren’t many people on Mist Island who could injure Red Shadow like that.

The fact that Johan was found collapsed in our front yard, of all places, was deeply suspicious.

On top of that, I was known as Raphael’s sister and the mistress of Anti-Venom.

There was plenty to gain from me, so at least while Raphael was gone, he wouldn’t kill me.

“Instead, take this to him as a warning.”

I handed over a tray with soup, water, and medicine.

Liam eyed the contents, then grabbed an empty can from the sink.

“The cuffs still aren’t undone, right?”

“I don’t have the key.”

“Good. Just leave him like that until Raphael returns, just in case.”

“He’s a poor patient who hasn’t been able to use the bathroom all day.”

“And he’s a man. Once boys turn fourteen, they’re stronger than girls. Better safe than sorry—it’s that kind of world.”

Liam offered a light warning, then headed upstairs while I set the table.

Clang!

A loud noise came from upstairs.

It might’ve been Johan and Liam arguing.

“Liam!”

I rushed up the stairs, only to find Liam closing the door with a click.

“What happened?”

“I dropped the water bottle by accident. It didn’t break since it’s plastic, but I guess the sound carried downstairs.”

“You didn’t threaten him or anything, right?”

“Of course not. If anything like that was needed, Raphael would’ve done it already. Come on, let’s go eat.”

Liam gently turned me around with a smile.

I still felt uneasy on the way to the kitchen, but when Liam changed the subject, my attention naturally followed.

“Raphael thinks that once Two Star absorbs Lucky Ginger’s power, Death Adder will collapse too. The triangular standoff between Death Adder, Two Star, and Lucky Ginger has been broken.”

“Still, dealing in narcotics… Isn’t weapons trafficking and liquor sales enough? I thought Two Star was already in trouble thanks to the heroes.”

Liam just answered with his usual gentle smile.

Raphael and Liam always drew a line at the critical moments.

Even so, from the outside, I was also seen as a villain’s associate.

The dinner was delicious.

I was so full I couldn’t even swallow water.

After tea, the hour had grown quite late.

Liam, reading the mood, said he’d head home, and I saw him off.

“If anything happens, call me right away. And if it feels dangerous, just shoot first. I’ll take care of the body.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Right. It won’t.”

Liam left only after nagging as much as Raphael would.

Truthfully, even without all that, I was already being cautious around Johan.

I had to stay under the same roof with him for days without anyone to protect me.

The guest room where Johan was staying was right next to mine.

On my way to my room down the hall, I paused by the door and tried to detect any presence.

Maybe he was asleep.

Anyone from Mist Island would know the infamous Red Shadow.

He’s the one who single-handedly wiped out mafias and sent escaped gangsters back to prison with every bone in their body broken.

That same man was sleeping next to my room tonight.

‘Seems like he’s asleep.’

Hopefully, he stays deeply asleep and doesn’t make me feel uneasy.

Click.

After getting ready for bed, I locked the door.

Just in case, I placed a gun under my pillow.

There was still no sound from the next room.

When I turned off the light, the ticking of the clock became exceptionally loud.

Tick, tick.

The sound blurred my mind.

“Raphael?”

I called my brother’s name. Desperately… in the most wretched voice.

“Raphael… Raphael!”

At the end of a filthy alley, the dizzying world unfolded.

The hurried footsteps of commuters, the blaring honks of cars, the screeching sound of the city train.

And me, left alone.

I felt like I would be crushed by fear.

No, I couldn’t breathe from the loneliness.

At that moment, a loud sound exploded.

Bang!

My heart dropped at the deafening boom.

“Aaaah! Ah! Aaaagh―!”

I screamed and jolted awake.

***

Bang! Bang!

It was the kind of noise you’d hear at a construction site.

A scream escaped my lips instinctively, and my shoulders shook uncontrollably.

My heart pounded wildly.

Each time it did, my soul felt like it was falling deeper into hell.

It didn’t take long to realize the house hadn’t been bombed.

The sound was coming from the next room.

The door before me was our white household door, but it looked like the chipped, battered door from the house I grew up in.

The doorknob slipped in my palm.

‘…Mom… Raphael…’

For countless days, I’d crouched under the desk, filled with regret.

‘I should’ve just stayed at Maria’s house.’

Mom had left us long ago, and Raphael, being a soldier, wasn’t home.

After Raphael left, Andrew came home drunk and smashed everything in sight.

The dining table, the sofa, the TV, the windows… If it had a form, he destroyed it.

“Open the door! You damn brat! I’ll kill you first tonight!”

Bang! Bang!

With each dull thud beyond the door, my heart thrashed.

Oh God.

Please, have mercy and don’t let that door break.

I prayed, regretted, and with every minute and second, vomited something thick and black from deep inside.

It was a fear that couldn’t be soothed by trembling—it was carved into my memory, body, heart, and soul.

“…It’s okay… It’s okay… Andrew Moltke is gone now.”

Cold sweat drenched me.

I wanted to run.

I wanted to die.

My chest tightened so much I couldn’t breathe.

Tears welled up, and with trembling hands, I opened the door.

Johan was breaking the part of the bed where the chain was attached.

Fragments had scattered across the floor, and the part where the chain ring had been was half-collapsed.

“…Ah…”

I should’ve felt relieved that it wasn’t Andrew, but seeing the wrecked bed made heat boil up from within.

“Stop it! Stop!”

I quickly rushed to the basement and grabbed the bolt cutters.

My footsteps stomped down the hallway and up the stairs.

I was boiling with anger.

It was infuriating enough to wake up screaming from a noise like that so early in the morning—but I was even more furious at myself, for shattering at the sound of furniture breaking.

I felt pity for my wounded self.

I hated that I couldn’t escape that trauma, that I couldn’t escape it. The injustice of it made me suffocate.

It’s been years since Andrew died—why am I still trapped in that time?

“You could’ve just knocked on the wall to wake me up! Or shouted!”

I fit the chain between the jaws of the bolt cutter and pressed down on the handles.

It didn’t cut cleanly like when Raphael did it, but after a few grunts, the chain snapped with a snap.