The Villain's Sister - Chapter 39

“It’s not fear. It’s discomfort.”

Even though it wasn’t the right mood for jokes, his thoroughly displeased face made me ask lightly without meaning to.

“Really?”

Johan furrowed his brows.

He reacted as if me thinking he was a coward was a grave moral offense.

I decided to just go along.

“So even someone like you dislikes hospitals. I didn’t know that.”

“Because they’re places where death comes and goes.”

“That’s an answer that really leaves me speechless. At least wash it with water. It could get worse.”

After forcibly pushing Johan into the bathroom, I contacted the lobby and asked for saline and bandages.

In a five-star hotel, they don’t get curious no matter what the customer asks for.

I even received medicine and ordered room service. Then Johan came out.

It was the first time I saw water dripping from his hair.

He was someone who always looked composed, suited to fully buttoned shirts.

His chest showed slightly through the gap in the robe.

His skin wasn’t pale, but it wasn’t deeply tanned either.

Beneath the faintly damp skin, well-defined muscles were visible.

Maybe it was because Tristan had such beastly muscles, but Johan wasn’t exactly small either.

I was nearly 170cm tall and still had to look up at him. He had a naturally large frame and, though slim, gave off a solid impression.

Looking closely, it wasn’t that he was thin but that he had no fat between his tightly packed muscles.

“Finished admiring me?”

Suppressing the heat rising in my face, I said calmly, “Just checking if you had any other injuries. I told the lobby and got some medicine. Let me take a look.”

“You need to be wary of your surroundings and show some fear. You might regret it someday.”

“Ignoring someone who’s hurt is what I’d regret most. That’s what I fear. Take off your robe. By the way, you are wearing pants underneath, right? Oh, you are.”

When Johan took off the robe, the wound was clearly visible.

Do all people in dangerous jobs end up like this?

From what I could see, it was a serious wound, yet he acted like it was nothing.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you in cotton pants. You always wore suits.”

“I wore them occasionally while staying at your place.”

“I just wasn’t interested in you.”

Actually, I remembered. I just didn’t want to show it.

“The previous wound healed well. There’s a bit of a scar though.”

As I poured the medicine, he tensed his abdomen from the sting.

Thanks to that, his abs stood out even more.

And… he had more scars than I expected.

Gunshot wounds, surgical scars, abrasions, etc.

Like gang members who use their bodies as notebooks, he seemed to use his like a dartboard.

I thought someone like Red Shadow wouldn’t have scars like these. Surprisingly, he did.

“Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Once it heals, it will leave a scar.”

“I don’t care.”

“Don’t get hurt. I don’t like you, but I don’t hate you either, so I hope you don’t get hurt.”

“Is this pity?”

Johan and I made eye contact. I didn’t look away.

There it is again.

That strange look.

Ever since I saw it at Tristan’s apartment, he kept giving me that look.

I don’t know how to define it, but it seems to desperately want something from me, and it makes me awkward when I see it and constantly think about it when I’m alone.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Are you seriously asking?”

His persistent gaze was bothersome.

I could see his long eyelashes casting shadows.

His blue eyes looked deeper than ever.

I suddenly felt the distance between us was too close.

And such realizations always come at the worst moments.

Since we didn’t have dressing tape, I had to wrap him with a bandage.

Because he was bigger than he looked, I had to practically hug him to wrap the bandage.

‘Of all times…’

I swallowed a sigh, again and again.

I pressed the bandage with my fingertips to fix it in place, then wrapped it around his body.

As I brought my body closer, my forehead lightly touched his bare back.

Damn, what a broad back.

Judging by his face, you’d think he was shorter and slimmer.

He’s full of surprises.

‘Too close.’

Slightly, just slightly. I thought I could feel his heartbeat.

His skin, which I thought would be cold like his personality, actually radiated a warm heat.

I’d been thinking I needed to close the distance between us, but now that the time had come…

This distance between us is unnecessary.

To be precise, it makes me uncomfortable.

Unlike me, Johan showed no sign of displeasure.

Instead, he took a deep breath and gave me a persistent look.

Johan didn’t answer, so I had to ask another question.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know what to do with you.”

The meaning-laden words left me speechless.

Johan tucked my hair behind my ear with his fingertips.

Since it hadn’t dried completely, his touch felt heavy.

Johan’s atmosphere was fiercer than usual. And also tender.

It was warm, yet chilling. Cold, but burning.

Just for a moment, I was confused by the unpredictable shift. Then he whispered in a weighty tone.

“Giselle. You’re a good person. You’ve just had bad luck.”

“……”

“I like good people. So don’t commit any sins.”

I don’t want to kill you.

That faint but distinct voice sent chills down my spine.

The palm that brushed against me felt hot.

Ah, it was my cheek that was hot.

My heart was pounding, unsure whether from trembling or fear.

Seeing me not knowing what to do, Johan took the bandage that was nearly finished and wrapped it up himself.

***

― …The terrorists are addicts of a new drug called Blue Gas, and needing money to buy more…

― …All government events are expected to be canceled…

Crimes driven by drugs were all too common on Mist Island.

The department store hostage incident that occurred today was no different.

“Hey. Can we just eat in peace?”

Tristan yelled and irritably turned off the TV.

He had skipped dinner while supporting operations and was only now filling his stomach with a cheap sandwich as the evening news started.

The media was heavily reporting on Blue Gas.

Because of that, the police were busier than ever.

The higher-ups were furious, yelling about how long it had been since they were told to track Blue Gas, and asking why nothing had been done yet.

On top of that, coordinating with fire departments and multiple other agencies to clean up the terror incident made the workload suffocating.

‘I won’t even be able to do patrols for a while.’

Blue Gas was the biggest concern for him and Red Shadow lately.

Big Bear, desperate with the organization in crisis, was throwing everything into the drug trade—and the core of that was Blue Gas.

So they were trying to find the supplier as quickly as possible and bring them under control, while Death Adder was preparing for an all-out war with Big Bear.

‘If we don’t catch the supplier soon, something really big is going to happen…’

A day would come when he’d have to trust that bastard, Red Shadow.

Damn terrorists.

When I write tomorrow’s report, I ought to bash each one in the head.

“I’ve got fox-like kids and a tiger-like wife waiting at home, but it’s night shifts for the next month. Hey, Tristan. If you want to get married, quit first. This job’s not for a family man.”

“Then you should quit too.”

“Thirty-year mortgage. Twenty-five left.”

“Tsk. I want to believe you’re not my future.”

After swallowing the last piece of sandwich and brushing off his hands, Tristan suddenly recalled someone waiting for him at home.

Crap! He’d forgotten about Giselle Rodriguez.

‘She’s not sitting around waiting with dinner ready, is she?’

He hadn’t even told her he wouldn’t be home tonight.

He quickly grabbed the phone and called the place she was staying, but no one answered.

Is something wrong?

Worried, he checked the terror victim list, but her name wasn’t there.

“It’s already almost eleven.”

It was about time to sleep.

Tristan figured Giselle had gone to bed early and lowered the receiver.

***

I remember the pulse at my fingertips.

Living prepared for death, burning more fiercely than anyone.

“You think he is a human? He’s a beast.”

Though she’d vaguely sensed the truth about me, she provoked me with such inflammatory words, seemingly unafraid.

Yet she shrank so easily.

She’s strange. No, she’s hard to understand.

From her eyes and the words she left hanging, I could tell she knew.

It’s a mystery how she found out. Her patterns are unreadable.

…If only that were the issue.

What unsettled me was how I kept mulling over the person named Giselle Deva Moltke.

“If there is a God, someone like me dying is only natural.”

She knew well that a horrifying story isn’t a justification for crime.

So as family, she defended Raphael, while also bearing the heavy burden.

The guilt brought down by the words she spoke that day carried a weight only those who gave birth to a villain like Raphael could understand.

That didn’t mean I pitied Giselle.

Everyone on Mist Island bears their own cross.

Hers just happened to be Raphael. And that fact wasn’t anything special to me.

Yeah. That’s how it should be…