The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 58

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 58
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“Youth alone means nothing. This one couldn’t even catch a passing ant. I have to say, I’m almost inclined to believe he’s not actually dead.”
Geren prodded the young man sprawled on the ground with the tip of his shoe, his voice cutting cold.
“You… gack… what are you… you….”
“Oh, and—”
The heel of Geren’s shoe pressed slowly against the young man’s ribs.
Crunch.
The sensation of breaking bone tore a scream from the young man’s throat.
Geren gazed down at him grinding his teeth against the floor and laughed softly.
“Kill me… throw me away…!”
“At your level? Hardly worth the effort.”
Rozelin watched Geren Wilbrid with one layer of his mask stripped away—the ever-composed gentleman discarded, leaving bare something else beneath. Her expression remained perfectly still.
‘So he was always that kind of rotten creature.’
To all appearances a man of refined civility, yet in truth a pleasure-seeker through and through.
A man who would not shy from the most tiresome tasks if they promised him amusement and sensation.
‘He found a venting partner at last, only to be disappointed by how poorly the wretch performed. His pride is wounded.’
Rozelin watched indifferently, waiting for his temper to exhaust itself.
Soon enough the man went slack, and Geren lowered his foot from the limp chest.
Geren turned with a smile playing at his lips.
“I’ve caught your filthy little pest for you with these very hands, as you requested—so where’s my reward?”
“Reward? You’ve already enjoyed yourself to your heart’s content, so what more—”
Rozelin murmured softly beneath Geren’s amused tone.
“Well then. If you’ve need of it, I’ll credit you with the merit for this affair.”
Rozelin added the concession without warmth, and stepped into the Alley alongside Arma.
Geren watched Rozelin’s hand clasp Arma’s, noting how the man trailed in her wake, and his eyes narrowed to slits.
‘What a peculiar sight.’
Even the fangs he’d been unable to hide jutting from beneath his sheathed claws—a curious thing to witness.
‘I had no idea he was capable of such behavior.’
Geren had encountered Arma once before—in the world after Rozelin’s death. He had lived for another week in that timeline, time needed for the grand ritual to shift worlds.
It was the duration required to prepare the enormous ceremony of transference.
‘Perhaps others cannot fathom it, but I cannot comprehend why that man conducts himself in such a manner.’
Geren turned the matter over in his mind.
In the future, the one who secretly murdered every member of Makluksa’s true King and its inner circle, then seized their position.
A monster among monsters—one who never hesitated to use people and discard them in death, bearing the thickest blood of the current Emperor.
That was Arma Dianitas.
He had abandoned the Imperial Throne and seized Makluksa instead.
Makluksa had pursued Rozelin’s trail, and after rumors spread that Geren Wilbrid had slain her, they hunted him relentlessly unto death.
It was thus that Geren encountered Makluksa’s King before his own final moments.
The Third Imperial Prince—frail, timid, unable even to protect his own betrothed before death claimed him.
Geren had never imagined Arma capable of bearing such a sinister visage.
Makluksa’s King, who had traced Rozelin’s shadow to its end and emerged in person to throttle his own life in her wake.
When Geren glimpsed his true nature, he felt genuine astonishment.
‘I never conceived that someone could harbor the Abyss itself as their darkness.’
Geren regarded Arma with an intensity difficult to look away from.
Those blue eyes, always cast downward, slowly lifted to meet his gaze as though sensing the weight of his stare.
The gaze they held carried an unmistakable killing intent.
“What now?”
“We’ll interrogate this one.”
“Interrogate? Interrogate what from this?”
Yuldian, standing some distance to the rear and surrounded by cats, birds, and sundry creatures, posed the question.
“Ah, step back a bit, would you?”
Yuldian waved his hand dismissively.
The birds retreated briefly at the gesture, only to settle again moments later on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere they pleased.
“How does our Yuldian possess such an adorable ability…?”
……
At the word adorable, Yuldian—once genuinely alarmed—now exhaled a short breath, as though all surprise had worn away with familiarity.
Rozelin glanced at him, then turned her attention to the man writhing and grinding his teeth on the ground, unable even to lose consciousness, and finally spoke.
“Likely… Makluksa.”
Rozelin delivered the word tersely.
He was gambling at a gambling house and spoke in similar ways, so it had to be him.
‘Geren said it was a similar world, and it really is remarkably alike.’
Hardly different at all, in fact.
“Makluksa? That damned organization?!”
“Yes.”
At Yuldian’s rough words, Rozelin nodded.
Geren Wilbred also seemed caught off guard, pausing for a moment as if he hadn’t anticipated it.
“…Wait, Rozelin. You’re saying this man is Makluksa?”
“Yes.”
“…So you’re telling me that Makluksa orchestrated this disappearance case?”
Rozelin stared at Geren for a long moment before slowly nodding.
Having said that much, she hesitated. She was wrestling with whether to tell Geren the truth.
But the hesitation didn’t last long. She felt no need to spare him consideration.
“It’s not just the disappearance case. The plague spreading now, the arson incidents—they’re all connected to Makluksa.”
Geren’s movements stopped abruptly.
“…What did you say?”
He asked quietly, his voice subdued.
Geren probably didn’t know. After the Duchess died, Geren Wilbred had apparently secluded himself for quite some time.
In fact, Rozelin had only discovered by chance that all these separate incidents were connected to Makluksa.
If the King of Makluksa hadn’t come directly to her spouting on about offering her the position of Queen, she never would have known.
This criminal organization, structured like a point network, was that dangerous.
In any case, Geren Wilbred had secluded himself for quite a long time, and after emerging, he’d pursued Rozelin as time passed.
‘Well, thinking about it now, it seems he wasn’t trying to kill her from the start—he was planning to shift her timeline.’
So Geren Wilbred may not have known that he’d captured Rozelin before she could be killed by others’ hands and thrown her into the underground dungeon.
Of course, knowing wouldn’t have made it forgivable anyway.
……
Rozelin looked at Geren Wilbred.
The Vertical Slit Pupils gazed at the unconscious man, brimming with murderous intent.
‘…Wait, Vertical Slit Pupils?’
How could a person’s eyes split vertically like that?
Rozelin’s eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath.
A race whose pupils split vertically when excited was extremely rare.
Fortunately, since he was looking down, only Rozelin, who was shorter than Geren, could barely see it.
“Geren.”
Rozelin called out to him.
Geren’s eyes slowly rolled toward her.
“Don’t dwell on what’s already past. For now, I’d appreciate it if you’d listen to that first—I’m starting to want to move somewhere quieter.”
At Rozelin’s words, Geren, who had been gazing down at her, smiled with the same expression he always wore.
By then his eyes had returned to their usual state, and Geren lifted the young man.
“I could still let off more steam, you know.”
When Rozelin added with a slight shrug, Geren paused.
“We have the Chaplain here. Isn’t that right, Asidor, Intermediate Chaplain?”
Rozelin laughed brightly.
The chaplain, who had been looking down at the blood-soaked youth, nodded with a pale, ashen face.
“Ah, yes……”
“Then this wouldn’t look particularly good here, so I’ll refrain and accept a favor later.”
Geren made no particular objection.
“And…it seems we have quite a lot to discuss, don’t we?”
“Not at all.”
Rozelin answered flatly.
At her unhesitating, firm refusal, Geren laughed softly.
“Rozelin, this place smells. Let’s get out of here.”
Just as he was about to speak, Arma carefully pulled her away.
Naryan had already lost interest in the matter and was dragging Yuldian around to see the Market.
“Now that I think of it, chaplains are skilled at Concealment Magic too, I hear.”
With a laughing expression, Geren bound the young man and thrust him into the chaplain’s arms.
“I hate getting my clothes dirty. Mind taking him to my Estate?”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“Rozelin, if you don’t like the daughter, the granddaughter will do.”
“Madman.”
“Wait—what do you mean ‘daughter,’ Rozelin?”
Asidor’s face crumpled as he watched them chatter and recede into the distance.
Seeing blood spattered across patches of his pristine white priestly robes, he bit down hard on his lower lip.
“Cursed nobles…….”
He exhaled slowly, staring down at what had been thrust into his care with an expression of helplessness.
“Foolish bastard…….”
Asidor narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on the young man’s forehead.
At the same moment that pale Healing Light began seeping from his fingertips…….
“I knew it would come to this.”
A voice reached him from behind.
“The traitor isn’t far away, is he?”
Asidor’s body went rigid.

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