Chapter 42
“How on earth does Mr. Kyle even know something like that…?”
Oliver muttered in a daze, but I didn’t bother responding and instead headed toward what was clearly the examination area. It wasn’t hard to find. The veterinarians’ faces and names were posted in huge frames next to the doors. Franklin was smiling brightly in one of the photos, sitting beside a woman who looked like his wife and an adorable Cocker Spaniel that seemed to be his pet. The dog was wearing a collar that read Bailey.
Maybe it was the vets’ way of showing that they had pets of their own and genuinely cared about animals.
Honestly, I appreciated it. Both as someone who had to entrust animals to them, and personally.
“I heard dogs barking from over there, so that’s probably where the hospitalized dogs are. Medical supplies are usually stored nearby. Just take photos of any storerooms that look well-stocked with meds.”
I waved him off and walked toward the exam rooms. I paused briefly, wondering how to get inside… then lifted my walker-clad foot and kicked the door handle straight down.
The door shattered instantly.
I felt oddly satisfied.
“Ah, it’s been a while. This is still fun.”
Muttering to myself, I stepped through the broken, dangling door.
The first thing I saw was—
A filthy sight of a man and woman tangled together.
I froze on the spot.
“…Franklin Dow?”
The disgusting, obese man looked up, half-naked. And the woman beneath him—
“Well, she’s definitely not your wife.”
“W-What the hell are you?!”
“No, nothing. Want to say cheese?”
“K–Kyaaaah!”
“Cheese.”
I said it shortly and pulled out my phone, snapping a photo.
After that, everything moved fast. Franklin’s computer setup consisted of an old desktop, about six or seven years outdated, and an IBM laptop. As soon as I confirmed that, I strode over. The half-naked couple shrieked as I passed by.
Good grief. So jumpy.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Surprised. Guess you haven’t clocked out yet.”
“Hey!”
“No, go on, keep doing what you were doing. If you don’t touch me, I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”
Cheating in a place like this. At least get a motel.
With an incredulous look, I opened the desktop tower and pulled out the hard drive.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’ll just take the laptop too.”
“Hey!”
The moment I turned around with the laptop—
Click.
“Don’t move!”
With the sound of a gun being cocked, Franklin Dow roared. At some point he had gotten up, wearing nothing but boxer shorts, aiming a shotgun at me. He blocked the entrance, using the woman—clearly not his wife—as a shield.
“Don’t move, you bastard! Do you know who I am?! You think the vice president of the Gun Association is a joke?!”
“Oh wow… a shotgun.”
I let out a hollow laugh. He looked like he’d fired guns before. Too bad about the model.
“…You keep a loaded shotgun in a veterinary office? Seriously bizarre. Are your clients okay with that? What, do you use it for euthanizing dogs? Is that how things work in the South?”
“Put down the hard drive and the laptop!”
Franklin shouted, thrusting the barrel toward me. His stance was surprisingly decent. But honestly, with buckshot, you could just duck behind a sofa before the second shot. And at this distance—
I glanced at the disheveled woman on the couch. Anna, was it?
“You idiot. If you shoot here, the young girl you’re hiding behind will die, Frank.”
“Doctor! Doctor! Please save me!”
The girl screamed. She was so young. What on earth was she even doing here with trash like him…
Even if I didn’t want to get emotional, I couldn’t help it. It was pathetic.
Frank screamed hysterically.
“Get lost! Don’t even think about taking those computers!”
“Kyaaaaah!”
“A-Anna! Call the police, now!”
That was when I naturally raised my pistol and aimed it at the woman called Anna, sighing.
“Try calling them. Go on. You’ll die a lot prettier than by a shotgun.”
“K-Kyaaaaah!”
“W-Who are you?!”
Escaping wouldn’t be hard… but the screaming was irritating.
Still, since I came all this way, might as well enjoy the show. It was entertaining.
As I grinned—
That was when it happened.
“If you say one more word, this dog dies.”
“Woof!”
…Huh?
Frank spun around. So did I.
The moment I looked back, my eyes widened.
It was Oliver.
Wearing a ski mask, holding a familiar-looking puppy in his arms, a pistol pressed to its head.
…Wait.
I’d just seen that dog earlier. By the door.
Its name was—
“Bailey! Bailey!”
“Oh, right. Bailey.”
I snapped my fingers.
Franklin Dow suddenly collapsed to his knees, wailing.
“No! Not the dog! Anything but the dog! Shoot Anna instead! Shoot Anna!”
“Frank! Are you insane?!”
His mistress screamed in disbelief, but Frank sobbed uncontrollably, crawling toward the Cocker Spaniel Oliver held. Oliver didn’t budge, re-aiming the gun at the dog.
Frank quickly raised his hands, sniffling. The shotgun had already fallen to the floor.
“T-Take it! Take everything!”
…Well, damn.
I barely held back my laughter.
It felt less like a play within a play and more like a slapstick farce.
Was I really watching this right now?
Plain, ordinary Oliver—holding a vet’s dog hostage?
The same secretary who hesitated to even block a CCTV camera earlier?
His growth was faster than expected.
Impressive.
“Good thing I brought you along.”
Chuckling, I picked up Frank’s shotgun while holding the laptop.
“Alright, we’re leaving, Frank. We’ll send Bailey back to your wife soon, so don’t worry. I’ll be keeping this gun. Thanks.”
“Uuuh… B-Bailey…!”
After taking Bailey from Oliver, I waved and got into the car. Oliver backed away smoothly, gun still trained on them, then climbed in beside me and sped off.
I thought I heard gunshots and Frank screaming “Baaaiiileyyy!” behind us, but I didn’t look back.
Seriously, how many guns does that animal hospital have? I should submit an anonymous complaint later.
Title: A Crazy Veterinarian Pointing Guns Where Puppies Are.
* * *
Youngseo’s Basement
“Snff… h-hic… sniff…”
The moment Oliver switched from my usual sedan back into it, he burst into tears. Sitting in the car he was familiar with, the threat he’d made and the dog he’d taken hostage seemed to finally sink in.
Of course. The gap between who he used to be and what he’d just done must have felt enormous.
I patted his back and brought him home.
The moment I asked, “Want a drink?” Oliver, still crying, led me to Kyle’s basement.
What greeted us was a massive underground wine cellar.
I looked around while patting Oliver’s back.
“Was I really this good at drinking?”
“Snff… N-No… That’s why it’s all stored here. Once you make money, you’re supposed to have a proper wine collection… hic. I-I built this for you, Mr. Kyle…”
“Oh, this is nice. You did well.”
“I just wanted to curate wine lists… give gifts to your connections… organize and label the data you wanted… I even do calligraphy as a hobby, so I could make cards too… hic… but I-I threatened someone!”
Oliver broke down again like a child, covering his face with both hands.
“I never imagined I’d end up being a masked robber! I just wanted to be a loyal dog to someone powerful and enjoy a happy life as a second-in-command!”
“…Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing now?”
“Well… yes. But it’s my first time.”
“Didn’t we come here to analyze data quickly?” Sylvia Duvet muttered dryly.
Ignoring her, I left Oliver with her and began scanning the shelves.
Let’s see… what should I drink?
I spotted a Himmel label from a Chilean winery.
Perfect.
There was more good stuff here than expected.
I knew Himmel well. In Chile, he ran one of the largest wineries—but that was just a hobby. His real job was mafia.
His vineyard was perfect for disposing of bodies. He was such a psychopath that when turning over the fields, he secretly mixed in burned human bone ash, carefully adjusting the lime concentration.
“253. Found it.”
I pulled out the wine I’d been eyeing. Next to it was sherry, which I grabbed casually. There had to be whiskey somewhere too, but it felt wrong to ask Oliver while he was sobbing.
When I returned with the bottles, Sylvia glanced at them.
“What’s that?”
“This brand numbers their bottles. That year, the vineyard with the best grapes was plot 253.”
That was the number given to me by a “cleanup” company boss who helped me when I first worked as a broker.
He said they’d scattered quite a lot of ash that year…
So the wine should be excellent.
