"Ughhhh...!"
How much time had passed? Oscar, who had been looking down at him, turned his gaze away.
Where Oscar's gaze stopped, there was a brothel owner who had been quietly dragged there by wolves. She stared blankly into the middle of a hell where sound had been erased.
"Uh..."
Oscar, who had been effortlessly trampling the grown man, shook his hands and straightened his back. Only then did the man, now free to move, let out a beastly sound and crawl toward her. Even after turning a man into a beast, Oscar was no different from the moment he first set foot in the mansion.
"You came?"
The low, gentle tone sent shivers down her spine. All the thoughts she had held while trying to maintain her composure—about 5,000 and raw gems—vanished like the tide in the face of instinctive fear. She collapsed flat on the floor.
“I was wrong.”
Oscar quietly looked down at her, and the wolves moved in advance before their master gave the order.
"I was wrong. Please forgive me."
A large lump slumped down next to the brothel owner, who was lying flat on the floor. When she instinctively looked up, there were two men, whether alive or dead, she couldn't tell.
“Ahh!”
Terrified, she spun to her feet and slumped back down. As she crawled backward on her buttocks, one of the wolves pushed her toward the fallen men. Pushed by brute force onto a pile of what looked like corpses, a metallic and nauseating smell of blood pierced her lungs. She felt nauseated.
“Ugh, ugh!”
A heavy money bag was tossed in front of her as she vomited up everything inside. The moment she saw the money bag smeared with vomit, she realized that the people pinned beneath her were human traffickers who had brought her here.
Trembling, she lay back down on her vomit. Her forehead and hair were a mess, tangled with the vomit, but she didn't even care about that.
She gently searched her mind, trying to figure out why on earth this had happened to her. Why this mysterious man was obsessed with the woman, and why he was doing this to her. But that wasn't the important thing. She had been crushed like meat simply for the sake of having captured a woman. There must be many more reasons why she deserves to be crushed than that.
"Please forgive me."
Thump, thump.
As the slow footsteps approached, she trembled as if she were about to faint. How foolish it had been to pride herself on having been through everything. Never once in her life had she been so afraid.
"Forgiveness, please, forgive..."
Talking about the times and the evidence... the moment she dared to talk back with such thoughts felt like a dream.
Oscar stopped a step ahead of her and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Then, he stared silently at the back of her head, which was trembling pitifully. In that state, he reviewed his final course of action regarding her.
Which choice will be the most efficient?
The woman who thought Simon was digging his own grave was, at least, lucky. It was not very wise to shed useless blood multiple times in the cramped space of Felphe.
"No guests were staying overnight today."
The brothel owner quickly nodded.
"Yes, of course."
"There wasn't even a woman bought for 5,000 in the first place."
"Of course."
"Cleanup."
Oscar kicked two corpses.
"Can I really trust you? If you're not confident, I'll do it."
"No. No, please believe me."
The brothel owner kept repeating the same answer, not even knowing what she was saying.
"Yes. Then I'll trust you and go."
The moment those chillingly kind words fell on her head, she repeatedly expressed her gratitude as if Oscar were her savior.
"Thank you."
However, it was too early to think that she had survived.
"Anyway, did you feed her a drug?"
When she suddenly looked up in surprise, Oscar was standing on the bed before she knew it.
Oscar slightly bent his long body toward the woman.
The pitiful woman, for whom a mere door was the only means of concealment, had changed in an instant. Her face, which had been pale and colorless at first glance, was flushed red. And the focus that flickered on and off repeatedly.
"Ha..."
Languid yet even labored breathing.
In fact, Oscar was puzzled by the brothel owner who was trying to somehow protect the woman visible through the crack in the door. When he heard the price for buying the woman... It was the same back then. He wondered what she was going to do with a woman who couldn't even see, bought at that price.
But seeing the state of it, he thought he could understand what the brothel owner saw in the woman.
Oscar straightened his bent body and looked back at the brothel owner.
"You've already done something useless?"
The brothel owner trembled and crawled toward the bed. She couldn't have resented herself more for having ordered the training to begin tonight.
The woman was lying on the bed, her body contorted, and moaning softly.
She knew it at a glance. The administered aphrodisiac had spread throughout her body.
With the mind sinking below the surface and the five senses instead surging with heightened sensitivity, the entire body would become an erogenous zone. As they would blush and moan with every touch, those in this state were referred to as 'instruments' in this world.
Although she was in an ideal condition for education, for the brother owner—whose life hung in the balance depending on the woman's condition—it felt as though her lifespan was being cut short every time the woman groaned. She desperately explained the situation to Oscar.
"Uh, well, it’s not a serious drug. It’s just, um, you can’t move your body a little, and your senses are heightened..."
“Bring the antidote.”
Her waist, severed without reason, felt just like the title, so tears streamed down her face.
"I'm sorry. The antidote is, uh, uh, not, Sir..."
She clutched her trampled hand and bowed her head. The gaze on the back of her head felt heavier than the pressure on the back of her hand.
"It is not a lethal medicine. I administered a mixture of one drop of Elos and 1.5 drops of Exlos. It will be naturally detoxified over time."
"Anything else besides that?"
"No. I didn't feed it. Absolutely not!"
She appealed desperately.
"I was in the middle of training. If the condition worsens, wouldn't that be a loss for me too? Please trust me. It will absolutely detoxify naturally as time passes..."
“How many hours?”
"It is... between seven and nine hours. She will be fully conscious tomorrow morning! Please believe me."
"..."
There was a smell of cigarettes again.
She instinctively knew that a review of her life was underway again.
'Will he kill me if he finishes smoking that one cigarette?' It was at that moment when she felt like her mind was going to turn white from extreme fear.
Thump.
A cigarette with embers still remaining fell next to the prone body.
She could not look up at Oscar and stared at the cigarette dropped beside her. The cigarette, with its empty smoke rising, was reflected in her despairing eyes. As she stood breathless, wolves began to move around her as if they had been waiting.
Silent tears poured out.
Her life, which had been like a mud pit, flashed by quickly before her eyes. Just when life was finally getting bearable.
While thinking those thoughts, the brothel owner constantly prayed with her mouth to be spared.
Please spare me, I did something wrong, please spare me.
The fear of death made her forget time and space. Like a broken machine, she endlessly repeated the same words.
How many times did she repeat the words begging to be spared like that?
"So why didn't you both just get along nicely and understand the situation?"
As she creaked her head up at the sudden words, there stood a wolf glaring at her with red eyes mixed with irritation. The creature slowly lowered its body like a sinking shadow to meet her eyes.
"You definitely said seven to nine hours, right?"
She nodded sleepily. He straightened his body again with the flexibility of a wolf straightening its back and stomped out the cigarette that was still lit.
"Don't wander around aimlessly; just stay put. Finding it is no big deal, but if you make me find it, I'll charge you a fee on top of that."
“Yes, yes..."
"Live a good life, a good life."
The man who had tossed out an inappropriate remark rummaged through the room one last time, then stepped through the door and disappeared.
She sat there blankly, then unconsciously stroked her neck.
But the relief of being alive was short-lived; if by any chance the woman did not wake up...
A chill ran over her in the summer night, and she vomited up again and again, having nothing left to throw up.
***
The elite agents of the Marquis Reichinhardt family, commonly known as the Wolves.
They, who were the family's private soldiers when Reichinhardt was a Margrave family, gradually went into the shadows as time passed.
A slightly more dangerous and slightly more secretive mission was given to them.
Reception, disruption, assassination, search.
As they began carrying out such missions one by one, they went from being knights to agents, and eventually came to be called wolves.
The wolves have only one goal: to be loyal to the master who took them in and raised them.
Having neither nation nor people, they belonged solely to Reichinhardt. Reichinhardt was the nation and the people, and the Master's goal was their goal.
To put that disgusting level of loyalty in reverse, it meant that those who did not possess such loyalty could not be called wolves and were either expelled or discarded.
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