~Chapter 05~

In a gloomy alley, Rachel pulled out a cigarette and put it to her lips. Her hand, holding an oil lighter, was stained with blood.

“Phew.”

The smoke from the cigarette drifted thickly into the dawn air, which held no light. Rachel’s cold gaze fell on the man collapsed at her feet. A gush of hot blood erupted from his mouth.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. If you could have, you would have killed me too. I just happened to win. Evil is mutual, after all.”

“……”

“Isn’t that right, Martin?”

The man named Martin passed away shortly after. Rachel dropped her half-smoked cigarette to the ground. Ssshh. The blood pooled on the floor swallowed the flame.

Bowing her head, Rachel retrieved some documents from the man’s body. Most were encrypted, unreadable—except for the last page.

From the first line, Rachel recognized a familiar name, and her green eyes trembled slightly. And then.

“Rachel.”

Startled, her wide green eyes turned toward the sound. A man, dressed entirely in black, was walking toward her. Instinctively, Rachel closed the documents and offered a stiff smile.

“You came quickly.”

The man’s dark gaze briefly swept over the fallen corpse and returned to her. Then he pulled something from his pocket and threw it to Rachel. Tracing a curve, it landed in her hand—it was a car key.

Only then did Rachel notice dried blood on the back of his hand. Unlike the blood smeared on her hands, this one appeared to be his own.

“Are you hurt?”

“A little.”

With that brief answer, Jekart turned away. The injury wasn’t serious enough to prevent him from driving, but he was simply feeling lazy.

On the way to the car, Jekart’s hand brushed against something cold in his pocket.

A piece of metal—one side rounded, the other sharp. Scissors.

Blood stained its tip. It had belonged to the woman just moments ago.

“The child was simply born. Your purpose in coming here wasn’t the child to begin with.”

A smirk. She had a way of pleading with boldness. And… she was a woman with an extremely warm body.

Jekart clenched and released his teeth at the lingering sensation of her touch on his fingertips.

In the dimly lit room, where the only light came from the pouring moon, only part of the woman’s face under the deep-brimmed hood was visible. The shadowed ridge of her nose, the contour of her small, plump lips—nothing more.

If he had seen it all… if he had removed the hood and confirmed her full face… would it have been better?

At least then he wouldn’t have had to imagine her face with just the tips of his fingers—a pitiful act.

“Did you take care of the target?”

Rachel asked as she climbed into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t that she was particularly curious—the question was a habitual check between observers.

But the response that came back, unlike usual, was different.

“Not yet.”

“What?”

Rachel looked at him in surprise. He had clearly contacted the target despite his injury, so not yet?

“There was an obstacle.”

Rachel’s perfectly arched brows furrowed slightly. His physical abilities were top-tier even within the organization. It was innate talent, but he also honed it deliberately. Moreover, he was meticulous enough to never attempt anything without certainty. Who could possibly have dared interfere with him?

Jekart dismissed her question casually.

“I’ll handle it soon.”

As quickly as possible, and then, like always, decisively.

The night, calm only on the surface, passed, and morning came. Sunlight filled the world, yet their hideout remained shrouded in darkness, hidden behind the curtains.

“Have some, Edite.”

Perrel handed her herbal tea. Edite’s pale, bloodless hand reached for the cup, trembling slightly.

“Martin’s body was found near the rendezvous alley.”

“……”

“Simultaneously, there was an attack on our hideout. They must have sensed something.”

Perrel, explaining the situation, noticed Edite flinch and let out a deep sigh.

“Edite.”

She looked up from the cup, her eyes red and watery, as if tears could fall at any moment.

“You… you waited and… this is what happened.”

“It couldn’t be helped. If you had been there, you would have died too.”

Perrel said calmly, as if accustomed to such losses.

Edite, knowing this was far from true, felt a hollow ache. Martin had been a long-time friend of Perrel’s.

“Steel your heart. To honor Martin’s death, we must keep moving forward.”

Edite wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Yes. You’re right, Perrel. Thank you for the comfort.”

Perrel smiled faintly.

“Let’s move to Glissen. Given the situation, we’ll have to postpone the operation. The classified documents Martin intended to deliver are now in their hands.”

“No, Perrel. We need to hurry instead.”

Edite set down her cup and stood. Her hands still trembled, but her expression was resolute.

“Even if the documents are in their hands, they won’t immediately know the contents. It will take time to decode the encryption. That means they still haven’t completely uncovered our plan.”

“Then…”

“We’re going to Hasmal, not Glissen. Before the code is cracked, we need to finish the operation as quickly as possible.”

“It’s risky, are you sure?”

Edite smiled faintly.

“Of course, Perrel.”

Edite truly was fine. Or rather, she had to be—for Martin, who had died alone on a cold road.

[To my lost husband,

I know I can’t send this, but I write anyway.

I know my occasional letters might disturb your peace. I know that if you leave first, I’ll never be able to remarry, despite your insistence.

But you didn’t keep your promise to return alive first, so let’s call this even.

(…)

For various reasons, I’m going to Hasmal. The same Hasmal you know—the place where we first met, the same Hasmal that took you from me.

I’m writing this on the train. Leon is temporarily staying with Mrs. Mari in Glissen. He’s a responsible child like you, so he won’t cause her much trouble. It’s safer there anyway.

I hope my journey to Hasmal is safe, so I can return to Leon. Yet, on the other hand, I hope it’s dangerous enough so that it reaches you. Does that make me a bad mother?

I miss you. Very much.

At the threshold of winter, from Edite.]

Edite folded the page neatly and closed her diary. Many pages of letters she had written remained folded in half, unsent.

Whenever she missed Maximilian, she wrote letters as if keeping a diary, knowing full well she could never send them.

She gently caressed the worn cover and placed the diary deep in her bag.

She adjusted Perrel’s head next to her to a more comfortable position and turned her gaze to the window. Unlike Perrel, she couldn’t sleep and had nowhere else to look.

Clatter clatter.

With every heavy jolt, the pale scenery outside blurred past the train window. The world appeared dark and hopeless, as if it had lost all light. If this operation failed, it might truly end that way.

Operation Scolemáte.

Named after the chess tactic where a queen and bishop checkmate the king, here the king was Stifts—specifically, the head of Stifts, Herman Miller.

He had founded Stifts to identify resistance forces among nations invaded by Hasmal. In Hasmal, attempting to assassinate him would lead to capture and likely death in a camp—but that would still be a cleaner death.

“Do you need anything?”

A vendor passing through the train aisle asked. Edite smiled awkwardly and bought a sandwich and a soda, intending to share it with Perrel when he awoke. They still had a long way to Hasmal and would surely be hungry.

Clatter clatter.

The train ran tirelessly along the tracks.