BADIL 30

Chapter 30

To the man, the woman was a world unto herself.

Wondrous, lovable, beautiful, and someone he wanted to cherish. He only learned for the first time that when all those feelings come together, people call it happiness.

But the happier he became, the more unease began to fill his heart.

“This isn’t me. This isn’t who I am. If I stay like this, I won’t be able to protect anything.”

And that unease reached its peak—on that very day.

“Paul, I have wonderful news.”

She smiled with a radiant, dazzling joy.

“I’m pregnant.”

The moment he heard those words, he staggered pathetically.

My child.

He didn’t know the face, the name, or anything about that tiny being still nestled in her womb—but there was one thing he did know.

If that child stays with me, it will surely be unhappy. And that unhappiness will make her sad.

He bit down hard on his lip.

If I stay like this, I’ll lose everything.

And so the man turned away—even though he loved her more deeply than he’d ever loved anyone.

A cold voice spilled out cruel words.

“Let’s end this. I never want to see you again.”

Her soft green eyes filled with tears as beautiful as starlight—then one slipped down her cheek.

And in that moment, the man realized: he would never, ever forget that face for the rest of his life.

Calima clapped her hands with delight after hearing my plan.

“Wow, madam, you’re a genius! That method suits you perfectly, and it’ll leave such a memorable impression.”

“Ahaha, that’s a relief.”

I smiled brightly and nodded at her compliment. Then Calima tugged me by the hand.

“Come on, let’s go home! After hearing your idea, I can’t wait to try it out.”

“Ah, but I wanted to rest today…”

“Quickly, quickly!”

If I had known she’d be this eager, I would’ve told her tomorrow instead. I let her drag me up from the bench, and we had only taken a few steps toward home when I saw them—

A group of people on horseback, riding down the main street in the distance.

“Huh? At this hour? That’s unusual.”

Riding horses at night was forbidden; it was too dangerous since visibility was low.

“Ah, it’s the Special Unit.”

Calima had better eyesight than me—she could tell the figures in black were wearing uniforms.

“Must’ve been a Roar sighting. Looks like they’re returning from an operation. They wouldn’t be riding that casually if it were still ongoing.”

“What? A Roar?”

At that word, I twitched in excitement and almost ran toward them, but Calima grabbed my arm firmly. I gave her an awkward smile.

“…Even if I ask you to let me go, you won’t, will you?”

“Exactly right. And besides, even if you went now, there’d be nothing left to see. Don’t waste your effort.”

“Ugh.”

I sighed heavily. Too bad I couldn’t go to the scene—but at least, with Cerulean not around, I could talk to Calima about the Roar freely.

So I asked casually,

“Do Roars often appear in densely populated areas?”

Of course, I already knew the answer. My mother had encountered one right in the middle of the city.

I only asked to use that as a lead—to draw out more information. And sure enough, Calima began sharing freely what Cerulean would never tell me.

“Usually, yes. Roars feed on humans—they’re monsters that use people as nourishment.”

Calima shuddered slightly, her usually calm face tightening with a hint of unease. She must have remembered an encounter with one herself.

“That’s why people who live alone are especially at risk. They can become targets… or even unwitting hosts that nurture a Roar.”

I stayed quiet, tense, listening. Seeing that, Calima gave me a reassuring smile and waved her hand.

“Don’t worry too much, madam. I’ll protect you.”

“Ah…”

At her words, I couldn’t help but recall myself—trapped alone in my home after my mother’s death.

What was I like back then? My head felt like it would split open, my insides were twisted up. Even after Father Leopold helped me, it took a long time before I could recognize people’s faces again.

Now that I think about it, that was strange. It wasn’t like a normal illness… Could I have met a Roar back then?

The thought made my skin crawl. Cautiously, I asked,

“What does it feel like when you meet a Roar?”

“That’s…”

Just as Calima was about to answer—

“Kyaaaaaa!”

A piercing scream echoed from the end of the street.

I immediately turned toward the sound.

“It must be a Roar!”

“No, it isn’t.”

As I tried to rush off, Calima grabbed me. I turned, frustrated.

“Calima, I appreciate you protecting me, but you can’t keep restricting my actions—”

There are two beings in this world you should never try to stop: a galloping horse, and a journalist chasing a scoop.

Calima met my glare with a serious expression.

“It really isn’t a Roar. And even if it were, you absolutely shouldn’t go running toward it with that excitement.”

“I don’t believe you. What else could make someone scream like that?”

“Honestly…”

Calima sighed and leaned close, whispering into my ear.

“I can sense a Roar’s presence. And there isn’t one here.”

“…!”

My eyes widened. She could sense them?

“Then—wait, are you a Roar hunter too?”

Calima immediately shook her head and smiled awkwardly.

“No, nothing like that. And… I can’t say more.”

“You’re leaving me hanging!”

“Some things just can’t be said.”

She placed her hands on her hips with a wry smile.

“I don’t know everything about Roars either. Only a handful of hunters are allowed to get close to them during missions. So if you’re that curious, ask the Captain.”

“Cerulean won’t tell me anything.”

I pouted. I knew I sounded childish, but I couldn’t help it.

I puffed out my cheeks for a while, then muttered softly,

“It’s not like Cerulean and I have that kind of relationship anyway.”

We were bound by a contract—married because it benefited us both. Not a relationship for affection or tenderness.

It was the arrangement I had suggested, I had wanted… so why did I feel so miserable?

I already knew the answer. I’d just been refusing to face it.

I pressed my forehead into my palm.

When did things get so tangled like this?

The problem was simple. It was my heart.

Get a grip. Go back to how you were.

As I whispered that to myself, a gentle hand stroked my hair. Startled, I looked up at Calima’s kind, sisterly smile.

“For over ten years, no one has ever dared call Cerulean Luke by his first name. So don’t worry, madam.”

At those words, my face twisted helplessly.

After that, Calima and I took one more walk around the park before heading home. The streets were quiet, and only the gas lamps kept the darkness at bay.

If I were alone, I’d never dare walk here at this hour.

Maybe because Calima was with me, the night didn’t feel frightening. We walked in silence until we were almost home. Then Calima spoke.

“Wait here a bit. I’ll check around the area once before you go inside. Go ahead and rest.”

“Alright. Don’t take too long—it’s late.”

Since she was camping in a tent in our yard, I figured she meant to follow after me soon. I nodded and crossed the small garden, rummaging in my pocket for the house key as I reached the front door—

And that’s when I saw him.

I noticed him a beat too late because I was busy searching my pockets: a man with golden hair, leaning against the wall.

I blinked blankly. Even in the dim light, that golden hair gleamed brilliantly. Only one person I knew looked like that.

“Cerulean?”

“Edel.”

I thought maybe I was seeing things—but then he answered. My eyes widened.

“What are you doing here? Look at your face—it’s freezing! How long have you been standing out here?”

“Is that so?”

Without thinking, I cupped his pale cheeks in both hands. His blue eyes flicked briefly toward my hands, then met my gaze. Even as he let me touch him—something I’d never done before—his voice came calm and detached.