"... Yes? What... do you mean?"
"You didn't know. I'm going to pretend I didn't see it, so it's probably better to see it in person."
As soon as he felt relieved, an ominous feeling ran down his back.
He felt like what he had done was a bigger deal than he thought.
He jumped up from his seat and opened the closed hospital room. A man was lying on the bed with his robe exposed and his face exposed.
Palely white skin and white hair. At this point, Daniel couldn't help but laugh.
"... Ha ha ha."
What kind of day was today? He didn't know why terrible things happened all at once.
He thought he knew who that guy was. No, let's not fool ourselves.
Daniel knew very well who that man was. He couldn't be sure because the man's eyes were closed, but if his prediction is correct, there were red eyes hiding under those eyelids. A sigh-like voice filled the hospital room.
"... Deon Hardt."
A person who must be eliminated as a priority for the Revolutionary ramy.
Only then did he understand the doctor's attitude. Also, the fact that he gave him tremendous consideration.
"Why?"
He'd already used up all his mental power for today. Any more than this was the limit.
He subdued the leaders of the rampaging Revolutionary Army, saw his mother coughing up blood, and saved someone who had the same symptoms as her. But now he had to kill that person?
'No. I can't do it.'
At least today, Daniel couldn't kill Deon Hardt. He was sure.
'...'
He approached him as if he was possessed. The quick-witted old doctor quietly closed the door to the hospital room, and in a quiet space where time seemed to have stopped, Daniel silently sat on the chair in front of the bed.
You don't know how lucky you are. Originally, he would have died as soon as his true identity was revealed to him.
He slowly got up and placed his right hand on the bed. Just extend your left hand and touch the guy's neck. Perhaps because of the lack of blood, he felt a slightly faster pulse.
'...If he was Deon Hardt, he would have opened his eyes and reacted the moment I touched the bed... or rather, the moment he got close to him. I guess I'm not feeling well after all.'
He withdrew his hand. He was about to leave, but belatedly, he noticed his disheveled clothes. To be precise, it was a strangely shaped brand revealed through the disheveled collar.
Yes, he was told that he was cursed by the Demon King.
Did they say it weakens the body? Nevertheless, because the experience accumulated over a long period of time on the battlefield did not go anywhere, combat ability was treated separately.
Therefore, even though Deon Hardt was cursed by the Demon King, he still ranks high for elimination by the Revolutionary Army…
"Even if I don't kill him, he won't be alive for long."
Look at this defenseless figure who still closed his eyes because even if he stood up immediately and was on guard, it would not be enough. Even if it's not him, he's going to die at the hands of someone soon, so why bother getting his hands dirty?
He woke up rationalizing it like that. He kept thinking of his mother and couldn't stay here any longer.
As he left the hospital room, he ran into the doctor waiting in front of him. He looked over his shoulder at the hospital room out of the corner of his eye, as if trying to check if Deon Hardt was dead or alive, and then made eye contact. Daniel shook his head slowly.
"When he wakes up, send him back without being seen by others. Of course, he shouldn't have to memorize the route. And this matter..."
"I will keep quiet. I'm getting more forgetful these days anyway, so I'll forget it soon."
"... But please don't forget about security. Don't forget to put on your eye patch."
"Yes."
He just turned his back and left this place. As he walked down the hallway, he tried to somehow recover his spirit that had passed the limit.
Normally, he would have gone to see his mother and rested, but that was not possible now. Instead of thinking about his mother any more, let's think about Deon Hardt. For example, the Demon King's curse.
'Curse... Curse... Was the hemoptysis caused by the curse?'
Hemoptysis... his mother.
Despite Daniel's efforts, the stream of consciousness that had been forcibly averted returned to focus on his mother.
As he cursed, it suddenly occurred to him that if Deon Hardt was cursed by the Demon King, then his mother must have been cursed by the world.
'After a difficult life, she came back with hemoptysis.'
Every time he saw her weakened body, he felt like he didn't have enough time. He had no idea that it would come so suddenly and so realistically without warning.
The blood from his mother was warning him. His mother's time was running out.
'We have to hurry.'
Before his mother dies, he must show her her ideal world.
Only then did Daniel know where his steps were heading.
Yes, he already knew. In order to shorten time, he had to meet 'him'.
Daniel calmed his expression and quickened his pace. His faster pace revealed his impatience.
***
Wow, I thought I was going to die.
When that guy put his hand on my neck, I was nervous because I thought he was really trying to strangle me. My heart was still pounding because of that, but thankfully he didn't notice?
I slowly opened my eyes and looked around.
Maybe it's because it's a hospital room, but it looks ordinary on the outside. But I know this is no ordinary place.
I don't know for sure, but considering how complicated the process was to get here, I think it might be a secret organization...
'... Then did I get caught? Have I been taken hostage?'
I may have been brought in for treatment purposes at first, but not now. My appearance must be quite unique. Not only did he just try to strangle me, but after seeing this face, it would be safe to say that my true identity has already been revealed.
'So let's bounce.'
I don't know the way, but wherever I go, I'm sure there will be an exit. I'd better get out of here first.
I slowly raised my upper body, then laid down and closed my eyes. I heard a sound outside.
Sure enough, the door opened and someone came in.
'Is this the person from a little while ago?'
The sound of footsteps got closer.
My nerves were tense. The footsteps, which were getting closer and closer in a strange tension, stopped only when they reached right next to me.
An unfamiliar voice was heard.
"... How long are you going to pretend to faint?"
"!"
I was so surprised that I opened my eyes without realizing it.
An old man with gray hair smiled softly as he looked directly into my clearly visible eyes. A voice without a trace of hostility continued.
"You have to deceive the person you want to deceive. But I am a doctor."
"..."
"Follow me. I will take you outside."
Really? You're taking me outside for nothing? No, rather... I pointed to the eyepatch in the old man's hand.
"That...?"
"That's because it would be a bit difficult if you memorized the route. Please understand."
"..."
The old man grinned as if he couldn't even see my expression.
***
Upon returning to the office, Cruel paused for a moment upon encountering an unexpected person.
"... Your Excellency the Duke."
Why was the Duke here? If he had something for him to do, he would have called instead of coming.
Even what he was looking at is the chessboard on the desk.
Cruel realized later that he had not cleaned up the chessboard because he was in a hurry to leave, so he put his back and hid his hand that was about to flinch.
The Duke glanced at him and slowly straightened his back.
"You're here."
"What brings you here?"
"I came because I thought we needed to talk about your participation in the hunting competition. Even so, there are a lot of things to worry about, but I don't want to waste my time and energy with unnecessary misunderstandings."
"..."
"Of course, we'll have to wait and see whether that was a misunderstanding or not."
The Duke smiled.
"Oh, before that."
"...?"
"Kneel down."
For an instant, the green eyes shook slightly.
As if wondering if what he had heard was really what he was saying, the green eyes facing the Duke met the ever-smiling violet eyes and lowered them as if in resignation.
One knee touched the ground and Cruel's head was lowered.
An example of a knight to his lord.
Since nothing was certain yet, there was no need to cross the line and be hostile towards him. Since Cruel was an undeniably good force, the Duke was satisfied with that and moved on.
"You participated in the hunting competition."
"Yes."
"..."
"..."
A subtle silence came.
The Duke looked down at Cruel for a moment as if at a loss for words, then opened his mouth with a sigh.
"Great. I'll say it straight away without beating around the topic."
"..."
"Did you think I didn't know?"
Cruel's eyes trembled. He couldn't saw how fortunate he was to have his head down at this moment. If he was making eye contact with the Duke, he would most likely have noticed the shaking.
How much did he notice? How much should he say? It's unlikely that he even figured out the 'plan'.
'Answer...'
He had to answer.
His head spun rapidly. The silence was getting longer. Just when he thought this was going to be a really big problem, the Duke continued.
"Why did you save Deon Hardt?"
With great generosity, he kindly pointed out and pushed back on the past that was overlooked at the time.
"You tried to persuade me to request an assassin when I could have used the Revolutionary Army, so I gave permission, but you arbitrarily set a condition that you would pay them half of the promised amount even if he was just injured..."
"..."
"Let's see, let's see. So you also moved without my knowing. Did you think I didn't know that it was to lower the chance of Deon Hardt dying?"
Those who moved for the purpose of money acted more insincerely than Revolutionary soldiers who were fascinated by the cause.
Cruel chose the request.
Even those who worked for money valued their lives. So, if you created a situation where you could get a lot of money just by injuring someone, there was no reason to go out of your way to kill them.
Cruel spent his own money to create such a situation.
"Besides, in this hunting competition, you went so far as to save Deon Hart yourself."
What on earth was he thinking to do such a thing?
Did he really want to kill Deon Hardt?
"Please explain."
The purple eyes shone brightly. It was indeed a sharp attack, but Cruel felt reassured.
He guessed he didn't notice everything.
Since the calculations had been made, there was no need to take any more time. He opened his mouth without delay.
"I wanted to kill him with my own hands."
"... If that's the case, you should have said it a long time ago. You just wasted manpower."
"I'm sorry."
"That's it."
There was no way the Duke's suspicions could be resolved just like this. There were many loopholes in his answer.
The Duke also knew this, but instead of going into detail, he chose a different method.
"I don't think you would think that my doubts would be resolved to this extent."
"..."
"Therefore, I propose a bet."
While telling Cruel to get up, the Duke walked leisurely and stood in front of Cruel's desk. He picked up the black king that was pushed off the chessboard and slowly examined it.
"Deon Hardt must die. Up until now, I have left it to the you and issued orders through you, but now that there is room for doubt, I cannot just sit back and ignore it."
"..."
"Please move to kill Deon Hardt with your own hands. I will also move separately. Whoever kills him first will be the winner of the bet. The benefits to the winner... should we leave that decision to the winner?"
This meant that the loser must grant the winner's wish. The Duke had a lot of money and a lot of people he could spend it on. It was clearly an unfair bet, but Cruel had no choice.
Maybe that's why, instead of the obvious answer, something else came out.
"... Why do you want to kill Deon Hardt so much?"