Resetting Lady - Chapter 74

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“…Damn.”

Raymond lowered his head.

Bang!

Crash!

The mirror shattered.

Raymond felt his throat burning. He immediately dropped his body to the floor.

“E-e-enemy…!”

A trembling voice was heard. Raymond picked up a shard of the broken mirror from the floor. Then he threw it toward where the sound came from. Thud, a direct hit. It wasn’t the method he had expected, but it was effective. However, he could hear panting sounds that were too loud to be considered hiding one’s breath.

“…”

A small voice. A young voice. A woman. Why is she inside the Duke’s chamber? The gun isn’t a repeating rifle. And what he just threw hit its mark. Is she dead? No, he can still hear breathing.

“Hic, hiccup…”

Crying sounds. The Duke’s child? No, that’s not right. At that age, it would be a grandchild or great-grandchild, not a child. But this is strange.

‘Everyone else is dead.’

Raymond crouched behind the curtain until the crying subsided. Then he crawled. Slowly. She can’t see him from there. At this distance, there’s no need to use the gun. No, now he needs to conserve ammunition as much as possible.

“…”

“D-don’t come!”

Raymond counted how many bullets were left in his gun. Somehow he had succeeded in taking Duke Routella’s life. Now he had to wait until he could reunite with Sion. But how long could he hold out?

“Ah, ahhh!”

Thwack.

Raymond struck the girl hard on the back of her head. Black hair fell to the floor. He pressed down on her wrist with his foot.

“…”

“No… don’t…”

At most fourteen? Fifteen? She was a young woman. But she was scantily clad. Damn. Raymond frowned. And the gun was cheap. Only one shot. A flimsy pistol that could only be used for suicide. And unless it hit a vital spot, it probably wouldn’t even kill. To think he was tense over something like this. No, no. Let’s kill her quickly. Don’t think anymore.

“…”

“K-kill me.”

Damn. Raymond felt like cursing when he saw the girl’s extremely lightly clothed body. A prostitute. And Raymond did as she asked.

Crack.

Her neck snapped. The girl died instantly.

“…Damn. Your Grace.”

Raymond approached the Duke’s prostrate corpse. The Duke lay dead with his eyes wide open. The back of his head was blown apart by Raymond’s gun, which was completely different from the pistol the girl had. Raymond sat down beside the Duke’s corpse and covered his eyes.

“Your Grace. Your Grace. Hey.”

“…”

The corpse said nothing.

“…You called me an enemy.”

“…”

“Didn’t you ask if this was an honorable war.”

“…”

“What were you thinking when you killed your children and subordinates.”

“…”

“Damn, and after all that, the last person in your room is a prostitute? And such a young one at that…? Your Grace.”

Raymond suppressed the urge to kick the Duke’s head. Don’t think. Don’t think. Is there anything that would change if he thought about it? If he dies, Sion steps up. If Sion dies, Chelsea steps up. If Chelsea dies… then the corps comes next.

The average number of people Raymond alone can kill exceeds ten times that of Sion. It’s more efficient for him to go first. That’s all. And what would change if he rebelled against the orders given to him? Disobedience means death penalty, or dishonorable discharge. What would be given to Raymond, who has only accumulated military knowledge his whole life?

“I don’t think.”

He repeated the words. Raymond looked at Duke Routella’s shattered skull. The brain that had swirled with all kinds of knowledge, anguish, and desires was now no different from the organs of a dead beast.

Raymond closed his eyes. He heard familiar footsteps in the distance. Now Raymond could return.

“Sion.”

“Lord Raymond, you’re impressive. Thanks to you, I entered safely.”

“Don’t praise me. When you praise me, unlucky things happen.”

“That’s too much.”

Sion grumbled as he entered. Then he saw Duke Routella’s corpse and broke into a broad smile.

“Wow, that old man finally died! He lived disgustingly long.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

Ignoring Raymond’s reproach, Sion cut off Duke Routella’s hand. This was their method. The sound of flesh and bone being cut made a scraping noise. Raymond, who had started thinking, felt slightly nauseous. Not because of the cruelty, but because the sound reminded him of meat.

“Dinner will be beef.”

“…”

Sion must have had similar thoughts. Raymond frowned as he helped finish the job.

“Huh, what’s with that girl?”

Sion asked. Raymond lifted the girl’s corpse. As expected, she was dead. She had already grown cold.

“Hah, to think this old man was keeping a whore until the end. He’s something else.”

Raymond laid the girl’s corpse on the Duke’s bed. This was hypocrisy, self-satisfaction that wouldn’t help anyone, but he still wanted to do it.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“Say one more word and your neck won’t be safe either. If you want to keep that pretty face, shut up.”

The black-haired girl was wearing blatantly provocative clothes. Raymond felt uncomfortable and covered her with a blanket.

“…Ah.”

“What?”

“…She’s not a prostitute.”

Raymond noticed that the girl’s body was unusually clean. This child was not a prostitute. Raymond knew well the children who rolled around on the streets. And the facial features resembling Duke Routella. The pistol.

“A granddaughter? I thought all his descendants were dead… Ah, they’re all dead now.”

Sion scratched his head as he approached, somewhat reading the mood. Raymond closed the dead girl’s open eyes.

Raymond finally understood what Duke Routella was thinking when he put his granddaughter in his room dressed as a prostitute. It wasn’t that he intended to commit incest. The girl’s body was too clean for that.

‘What did you expect from me.’

Duke Routella had pinned his hopes on this – if she was a young prostitute rather than his granddaughter, and if it was Raymond who came to kill him.

That Raymond would show mercy to a young prostitute and not kill her.

Because he was a famous gentleman.

But that was only possible in his own country.

Raymond looked at Duke Routella’s severed hand that Sion had cut off. Then he looked at the closed eyes of the girl lying on the bed. Surely she had heard from the Duke that what she had to do was ‘beg for mercy,’ but she chose revenge instead of saving her life. There was no way it could have succeeded.

And Raymond had killed most of those in this castle on his way up. Even if the Duke’s plan had succeeded, he wouldn’t have spared her.

“Is there honor here?”

Duke Routella’s words echoed in his ears.

Don’t think. Don’t think. Raymond closed his eyes.

And now Raymond had to think of something else. What should he think about? Raymond wanted to think. He wanted to think of something better. Not blood, not pus, not tears. Something more comfortable and ideal.

“…Severe case.”

Raymond felt dejected when seeing blood made him think of a woman he didn’t want to remember.

* * *

“So Lord Raymond rescued me.”

“…Amazing!”

The young girls huddled together, listening to Karen’s story with sparkling eyes, then exclaimed in admiration. Karen felt burdened by those flushed young faces. There were too many parts she had omitted from the story.

In the story, Thomas grabbed wrists instead of swords, and Raymond disciplined the thugs with fists instead of guns. Of course, Karen didn’t mention that she had dismembered Thomas in front of Tom, or that she had hidden parts of him. The children asked innocently.

“When will Verdick die?”

“…I wonder?”

“Why won’t he die?”

The ‘innocent’ part needed to be reconsidered. Karen thought this while watching Lady Sola, who was annoyed at Verdick’s well-being.

“The villain should die first!”

“That’s right. Verdick Evans’s interest rates are too excessive.”

Even realistic complaints. Karen maintained her smile as she offered cookies to Lady Lian, who was surely repeating what she had heard from her mother. Lady Lian angrily talked about the shortcomings of that wicked loan shark, expressing her fury at Verdick Evans’s usury.

“Surely that person’s wealth should be used for better purposes.”

“Indeed.”

Lian turned her head sharply to meet Louis’s eyes. He visibly flinched. Lian asked with force in her voice.

“Of course you’ll do that, won’t you, Prince Louis?”

“…Hmm.”

Prince Louis awkwardly smiled while drinking the hot tea in front of him. What a hard life for a ten-year-old. To express political opinions, he had to consider not only the children but also their parents glaring from behind. It would be easy to simply pressure Verdick Evans unilaterally, but among those here, it would be rarer to find someone who had never interacted with Verdick Evans. Rather, weren’t they all closely intertwined with each other?

“Um… I’ll think deeply and consider it.”

“Are you avoiding even expressing the most minimal opinion?”

“Why is it so difficult for you to punish bad people?”

The girls spoke in unison. Are they doing that on purpose? They must be, right? Karen lifted her teacup to cover her mouth. Her throat hurt because she had to keep talking. At least she felt like she could survive now that attention was focused on Prince Louis.

“Alright… Um… Yes… Personally, I think pursuing legislation regarding interest rates would be fine…”

“Your Highness, I’d like to ask more about what you just said. Does that mean you also agree with the chairman directly proposing the agenda?”

“No, not necessarily to that extent…”

“Your Highness!”

‘What was I doing when I was ten?’

Karen looked at the children while having that thought. She couldn’t know since she didn’t remember. If it was “Karen,” she would have been diligently taking psychiatric medication or being brainwashed in front of Nancy. Have fun with your heated arguments. Leave me out of it.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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