The Villain's Sister - Chapter 93

Fifteen minutes after returning home, what Tristan saw was a thief rummaging through the drawers.

The thief hadn’t noticed their arrival.

Johan stretched out an arm to stop Tristan, who was about to step forward.

He quietly approached the intruder from behind and subdued him in an instant.

“Ah! Aaargh!”

“Ah. This one’s not an organization member.”

A crime syndicate lackey wouldn’t react so clumsily.

Officially, Tristan was hospitalized and hovering between life and death.

If word got out that he had already recovered, it would cause trouble for Giselle.

“I—I’m a reporter from M.C. Today! I’m not a thief!”

“Do you think that means you’re above the law?”

“And who are you supposed to be?”

“A colleague of Tristan Lindbergh.”

With his usual calm but arrogant tone, Johan introduced himself and pressed his foot down on the reporter’s head.

“What were you looking for?”

“Just a story! Mist Island Times and Daily Issue already scooped something, so I thought I’d try to get something too… I—I’m sorry!”

“Let him go.”

Even after Tristan spoke, Johan didn’t lift his foot.

Instead, he opened the reporter’s bag and took out the materials and film he’d gathered.

With a light flick of his hand, he smashed the camera.

The reporter screamed as the shattered pieces clattered to the floor.

“Aaargh! That—that belongs to the company… ow, ow, could you please move your foot? I’ll report you, please… Agh!”

Unable to watch any longer, Tristan shoved Johan away from the reporter.

He restrained the man so his face couldn’t be seen and threw him outside.

“If you try that crap again, you’re dead. Remember, shooting a trespasser counts as self-defense.”

Bang!

The door slammed shut.

Then it opened again, and the reporter’s bag came flying out.

The M.C. Today reporter tilted his head, staring at the closed door.

There’d been no one inside a moment ago, so where the hell did those two come from?

***

“Let’s go.”

At a glance, the bag slung over Tristan’s shoulder was nearly empty.

In contrast, the TV he was carrying in his arms was heavy and filthy.

When Johan flicked his fingers, the television floated back to its original place, and the drawers flew open one by one.

The mattress flipped, sending up clouds of dust from underneath, and Tristan had to resist the urge to smack Johan in the back of the head.

“What are you doing?”

“Your helmet? You never know if more people like that will come digging into your past.”

“Did you get shot too or something?”

This guy isn’t the type to worry about me.

Before Tristan could mutter to himself, a dusty coin fell from under the dresser and shot toward him.

Clack!

Tristan caught the coin with one hand.

“I don’t keep my night work gear at home.”

“Good.”

Instead of returning home, Johan took Tristan, who’d grabbed his socks, to the rooftop of some building.

“Put on your hat.”

He didn’t bother explaining and went down the stairs first.

The place was a shopping tower.

“I have something to buy.”

“What is it? If it’s not more important than that TV, you’re dead.”

“Still got that mouth on you, huh? Must mean you’re doing fine.”

Tristan pulled his hat low.

His face wasn’t public like Giselle’s, but he still worried about being recognized by fellow officers.

In the basement supermarket, Johan filled a cart with fresh vegetables and fruit.

“Hey. I want meat. Go grab some pork.”

“Sigh.”

“What? You drink beer at least?”

When Tristan loaded a pack of beer onto the cart, Johan silently glared at him.

The pressure of his presence would have been enough to intimidate most people, but Tristan, used to it, didn’t even blink.

Instead, he cheerfully grabbed some snacks.

“I knew you were boring, but this is worse than I thought. What do you even do during the day?”

The one asking didn’t expect an answer, and the one being asked didn’t plan to give one, so the two just pushed the cart in silence.

Yawning as he examined a bag of sour cream chips, Tristan burst out laughing when Johan came back with both arms full of snacks.

“You—pfft! You like jelly? That’s adorable.”

A bag of jelly flew straight at Tristan’s face, but he caught it with his forehead and dropped it into the cart.

“They’re for Giselle.”

Johan was the kind of man who probably wouldn’t associate with anyone lacking wealth, reputation, or refinement.

It wasn’t just his arrogant and detached expression or his elegant way of speaking.

It was the innate grace in his movements, his aloof composure, his habit of wearing collared white shirts and cotton trousers instead of T-shirts.

When that kind of man showed even a hint of kindness….

“It’s kind of annoying.”

“What is?”

“It’s embarrassing that I came out in sweatpants.”

“They suit you, though.”

Half mockery, half teasing.

Or maybe half mischief, half his usual attitude.

Either way, it was surprising.

A month ago, if someone had told him he’d be out shopping like friends with Red Shadow’s unmasked face in plain sight, he would’ve called it bullshit and flipped them off.

Tristan smirked, half-jealous and half-playful, as he picked up a piece of chocolate.

“Giselle doesn’t eat chocolates with pumpkin in them. I’ll take this one.”

Seeing Johan’s scowl made him feel better.

When they were about to pay for the mountain of goods, Tristan suddenly reached out a hand beside Johan, who was taking out his wallet.

“I’ll pay. You’re unemployed; where would you even get money?”

“Don’t make me laugh. Showing off in front of me—”

“Just get a job already, man.”

Johan’s face stiffened, but Tristan grabbed the back of his neck and shoved him aside before finishing the payment.

Johan squeezed his eyes shut. Should he just kill him now?

Since Giselle had been in a low mood for the past few days, he didn’t want to make things worse by fighting.

But when they stopped by the electronics store last—

“Great-grandfather, behold! This is modern technology. Amazing, right?”

Johan drove his elbow straight into Tristan’s stomach.

“Ugh! Hhh. Even when that bastard’s right, he still—”

“C-customers?”

“Don’t mind us. I’d just like a recommendation for a model good for watching movies.”

“Y-yes, of course. Please come this way.”

That bastard. Next time I get the chance, I’m shooting him with a stun gun.

Tristan gritted his teeth and followed the store clerk.

***

Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.

Ding-dong, ding-dong—

I pulled out the gun from the drawer.

The heavy weight made my head spin.

I crawled under the table and held my breath for a long time, but things didn’t go as I’d hoped.

Instead, someone banged on the door hard enough to break it down.

Bang! Bang!

“I know someone’s in there! Come out already!”

Bang, bang!

Should I go out? No, I should stay hidden first. How did they find out?

Death Adder?

Lucky Ginger?

Or Big Bear?

Why aren’t those two back yet when they only went to get socks….

“Hey! Young man! Come out here already!”

“Are you sure someone’s inside?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I heard voices from inside earlier.”

An old woman’s voice cut in.

“I’m from next door. It’s nothing serious, just about the facilities.”

I tightened my grip on the gun.

With nowhere to hide in this house, it was best to hold out until Johan returned.

Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong!

“No, every time we come, it’s empty. I’m telling you, no one’s home today either.”

“You old fool. I saw a shadow in the window just now.”

“Young man, remember the air-blocking magic stone you installed last time? The one that activates during a fire? Anyway, the government officials keep insisting they have to redo the construction, so I thought I’d get your signature to confirm. Please come out and sign real quick.”

I stayed silent, not making a sound, when the doorknob rattled violently.

If that door opened, I’d shoot first. I’d think about the rest later.

I released the safety and placed my finger on the trigger.

Then—

Clack!

“What’s going on here?”

In the blink of an eye, Johan appeared, opening the door and stepping outside. Seeing him, my whole body relaxed in relief.

Tristan poked my back and motioned for me to crawl out from under the table.

“You must’ve signed with Olivia Smith three days ago.”

“What? Nobody told me that.”

“There must’ve been a mix-up. Just to be sure, please sign again. Sorry, but why didn’t you open the door? We’ve been waiting a while.”

“I was busy packing.”

“Ah, I see. By the way, are you married? I heard a woman’s voice sometimes.”

Through the slightly open front door, I thought I saw a pair of eyes peeking inside.

Annoyed that they’d come so late, I shouted, “Honey! I need to use the bathroom, so untie my wrists!”

“Ghk! Pfft!”

Tristan, beside me, covered his mouth and snorted.

Wow!

Oh….

Awkward gasps and the frantic scratching of a pen followed.

Clack.

The door closed.

When the inner door opened, Johan’s cheeks were bright red.

“Giselle….”

Unable to hide his grimace, he shut his eyes tightly, so I whined at him.

“Honey, hurry up and hook up the TV. I was dying of boredom.”

D–7 until Raphael’s transfer to the underground prison.

Teasing the antihero was my only joy in this maddening situation.