Chapter 46
“It must just be my imagination. Anyway, it turned out well for Nina too.”
“Yeah, it’s really great! I’ll be counting on you, Katya.”
“…Thanks. I’ll be counting on you too. But wow, this place is amazing. Where’s Nina staying?”
While the two girls chatted, Messi quietly left them behind in the penthouse and slipped away.
The scene that greeted him at his destination was bodies sprawled across a maze-like alley floor.
At a glance, it looked like the aftermath of a gang brawl, but all those lying unconscious belonged to the same organization.
They were easy enough to identify, each wearing the signature mustard-colored coats. Clearly, some kind of training had gone wrong—or they had simply crossed the wrong person.
“Did the Wildcats pick a fight with you?”
“No.”
“Then why beat up someone else’s men on someone else’s turf?”
“Just felt pissed off.”
Lavian didn’t even sound surprised when Messi suddenly appeared. He gave the offhand reply as he casually trampled over the fallen men and strolled out of the alley.
The very picture of a thug.
Messi followed close behind, making sure not to step on the poor bastards.
“That’s not very guest-like manners. You’re going to start a war at this rate.”
Though he scolded, Messi knew Lavian wouldn’t do something like this without a reason.
Besides, the Wildcats had probably expected this much.
After all, Ferry had tailed Lavian the day before with a pack of flunkies. That alone gave Lavian justification.
If his mood had been good, it would have ended with that single beating.
“I thought you were in a good mood. Guess not?”
Messi’s form subtly shifted into his alternate persona, Mercy, as he sidled up beside Lavian.
Lavian shoved his hands deep into his pockets and sauntered across the main street.
“That knight… Hamel or Hamong or whatever. You saw him too, right?”
“Of course I saw. Why? Are you still bothered Nina fainted when she saw him?”
“Bothered? Hardly. Don’t you remember what Nina said the first day?”
“I remember plenty of things she said—hard to tell which one you mean. Anyway, why did you ask her about her fingernails earlier?”
“Why? You think I’d pull some trick pretending to be Hamelin when I put her back together?”
The biting question made Mercy shake his head firmly.
“No. The boss is trash, sure. But he’s a different breed of trash from that kind. Fundamentally a whole other level.”
Even though his own lieutenant had just declared his character garbage, Lavian didn’t get angry.
Because it was true.
“…I need to head to the capital sooner than planned.”
The sudden remark made Mercy stop dead in the middle of Blue District’s busiest boulevard.
Lavian stopped too, turning his head.
It was evening, the streets crowded with people of all kinds. Standing still in the middle of traffic was an open invitation for trouble.
Yet no one bumped into them or even dared make eye contact.
The two men were oblivious to the nuisance they caused, locked instead in a serious stare-down.
“Why?”
“To look deeper into that incident, among other things.”
“Not like you. Since when do you care about Hamelin?”
Even by Mercy’s standards, the recent incident had been grotesque.
A child abducted, stripped of fingernails, then dumped in the plaza with a letter.
The victim had been left alive, but not out of mercy. It was more like theater.
Still, it wasn’t the sort of thing Anubis usually involved itself in. Unless the authorities secretly requested their cooperation, gangs in the underworld had no reason to act without profit or justification.
And neither Mercy nor Lavian were men to be moved by hollow justice or glory.
Which left only one possibility.
“Does the kid’s family have ties to you? Did someone you know hire you?”
“No.”
“Then what the hell’s the reason?”
Lavian started walking again without answering.
Mercy sighed and followed.
“Just in case you forgot, we’re kidnappers too. We’ve got our own hostage to worry about. You hiding something from me?”
“…”
Lavian said nothing until they reached a storefront painted entirely in cheerful pink.
Mercy didn’t press further.
They stopped before a parfait café, complete with a door painted with a smiling kitten. Lavian glared at it with distaste before muttering:
“I’ve been seeing things lately.”
“Oh? Stress, huh? What kind of visions?”
“Nina. Even when she’s not around, I keep seeing her. Now she’s even showing up in my dreams.”
His voice was too serious, too grave.
So Mercy’s expression turned grave as well.
“That’s severe. A neurosis, maybe?”
“That’s what I thought. But every time I see her like that… she has no fingernails.”
“…What?”
Lavian’s golden eyes wavered, unusually unsettled.
Mercy’s absinthe-green gaze flickered with the same confusion.
“I don’t know. Just… it feels connected to that bastard.”
With that, Lavian pushed the café door open.
The café’s interior was adorably decorated. Inside, only two patrons sat waiting.
Ferry, with violet hair, and the leader of the Wildcats, Cheshire—both draped in the same yellow coats as the men left sprawled in the alley earlier.
Cheshire’s eyes sparkled with delight as he stared at the freshly served choco-cream parfait. He lifted his head, smiling brightly.
“Oh-ho! You’re here. This is a limited edition, you should order—”
“You got a death wish? Since when do you order me around?”
Lavian cut him off with profanity the moment he arrived, making Ferry scowl from the side.
Cheshire blinked, flustered.
“But… you said if we wanted to meet, just to come here—”
“You think I expected this kind of place?”
With a snarl, Lavian dropped into the pink, dainty chair opposite Cheshire—furniture that suited the café’s cute décor far more than him.
Meanwhile, Mercy and Ferry sat together at another table, pretending to browse the menu.
“The melon parfait looks good too.”
“Didn’t you hear the boss? Limited edition’s the best.”
“I can’t eat chocolate.”
“Then strawberry cream?”
Lavian ignored their chatter and glared at Cheshire.
“This isn’t a smoking joint, is it?”
“Oh-ho! How’d you guess?”
“Just look at it.”
It was obviously the kind of place schoolkids frequented. Smoking would be unthinkable.
Lavian clicked his tongue and glanced around in disdain. Cheshire leaned forward eagerly.
“Since you can’t smoke, try this instead. Hardly any left—seasonal limited edition.”
“Hell no. I’m not pathetic like you.”
“Pa-pathetic? Just because I like desserts? That’s a discriminatory way of thinking—”
“No prejudice here. Just saying, you’re a grown man over thirty hogging a kid’s café for a parfait. That’s embarrassing as hell.”
Was he just picking a fight, or was he genuinely serious? Even Mercy and Ferry traded uneasy looks at Lavian’s remark, while Cheshire sat stunned.
