The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - Chapter 23

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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 23
“I will keep watch.”
Since the beating he’d taken on his first day, Liam hadn’t dared venture into the basement.
Davion didn’t mind — spectators were unnecessary anyway. He entrusted his wristwatch and gun to Liam, then descended into the Basement alone.
The bare bulb in the Basement flickered with a sickly pallor. Rats scattered from the bread crumbs on the floor at the sound of Davion’s footsteps.
The man sat slumped in a chair, his limbs bound, head drooping. His consciousness was muddled, yet his breathing was remarkably stable—far steadier than during his withdrawal symptoms.
His skin, deprived of light for over a month, had gone corpse-pale. A curling crimson beard, as tangled as his hair, covered half his face, while clouds of flies circled about, as if drawn by the stench that assaulted the senses.
After confining him, Davion had quickly uncovered the man’s background. There was nothing particularly memorable about it—just another foot soldier in the Underground Organization based out of East Hallow, investigated once a few months back for assault. That was all.
Davion picked up the Hose rolling near the man’s feet.
He aimed it at the prisoner and turned the spigot.
“Wake up.”
Struck full-force by the cold water, the man jolted awake with convulsive coughing.
“Ugh… Please, can’t you wake me some other way? Do you have to spray water?”
The man shook his head, flinging off droplets as he spoke. His articulation had grown far clearer than before, easier to understand.
Davion fetched a chair from the corner and sat across from him.
The man watched in wary silence as Davion drew a Cigarette from his back pocket. Then, after a stretch of considerable quiet, a poisoned smile slowly spread across lips hidden beneath his beard.
“Strange how quiet you are today. Aren’t you going to ask me anything?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Oh? You’re thinking awfully long, aren’t you?”
Davion didn’t reply, only closed his eyes.
The stale reek of Cigarette smoke soon filled the Basement. As he brought the Cigarette to his lips, the man noticed the absent ring on his left hand and spoke in a jeering tone.
“By the way, you’re married, but there’s no ring on your finger.”
Davion slowly opened his eyes.
“Right. I told you my wife died not long ago, didn’t I?”
Confronted with such an obvious provocation, Davion laughed outright.
He’d never leave this place anyway, so there’d be no need to keep the secret. After a brief moment’s consideration, he revealed the truth to someone other than Liam for the first time.
“No. My wife only pretended to die. She’s very much alive.”
The man’s eyes widened slightly—not so much at the news that his wife was alive, but that Davion had actually answered him.
“She’s alive? Ah, I get it! You hated her so much you ran away?”
Davion threw down his cigarette butt and crushed it under his heel. As his jaw clenched, the man tilted his head back, laughing with the satisfaction of having struck a nerve.
“I understand the feeling—mine did the same thing! She ran off with some young man… and turns out the kid wasn’t even mine. If you ask me, your wife’s probably the same kind of insane wench, maybe even worse…!”
Before the man could finish, Davion kicked the chair out from under him, toppling him to the floor. His hard heel drove mercilessly into the man’s sternum.
“Gasp…!”
“My Cecilia,”
Thud. His foot lashed out again, striking the abdomen hard.
“is far too precious,”
And his leg moved again—this time to the thigh.
“for anyone to dare call her mad.”
The man trembled without so much as a whimper.
Davion exhaled deeply, looked up at the ceiling, and straightened his disheveled hair. He then rolled up both sleeves and knelt before the wretch of a man to ask his question.
“So you brought her back?”
“What?”
The man pressed his cheek against the cold floor, fixing Davion with a blurry, defiant stare.
“Your wife. I’m asking if you brought her back to your side.”
The tattoo on Davion’s left arm rippled darkly in the shadow cast over them both.
Davion brushed a few strands of hair back from his forehead and lit a fresh Cigarette, waiting for the answer. Having unburdened the truth at last, he felt almost as though he’d found a decent conversation partner.
A criminal—and he was calling him a conversation partner.
Cecilia is going to drive me mad after all. A bitter smile leaked out at the pathetic thought. But the moment Davion heard the man’s answer, every trace of humor vanished from his face.
“How would I not know? Of course I dragged her back by the hair! But she only made it a short way before running off again. Once a woman’s tasted freedom, she can’t resist it twice. I haven’t seen her in years now, but far as I could tell, she went off somewhere and died.”
He spoke of his wife’s death without restraint, his laughter unmasking his satisfaction. Davion looked down at him with contempt, then quietly got to his feet.
“Be careful yourself. Once a woman’s had a taste of the world outside, they say she never forgets it.”
As if he who dragged his own wife back by the hair had discovered some universal truth, the man had plenty to say.
Davion grabbed the Hose and turned the spigot again, dousing him with cold water once more. The man screamed with curses mixed in. While he was shaking from the cold, barely coherent, Davion withdrew a small pouch containing powder from his pants pocket.
“I checked the Canned Food that was down here. But some of the Lampi inside a few tins wasn’t in powder form.”
The Lampi in the pouch was rounded like a pill. He held it before the man’s eyes, pressing for an answer.
“How do you inhale this?”
“T-that’s not meant to be inhaled—you eat it. God, it’s cold……”
From the man’s rough coughing mouth now flowed cold water instead of blood.
“You dissolve it on your tongue like candy. The labor cost is factored in, so it sells for more than powder. Shaping it into smooth forms like that—it’s a technique only certain people can pull off.”
“Then what kind of demand exists for something like this?”
“I just told you—it’s like candy. Lampi has a sweet taste, so……”
“I see.”
After returning the medication to its place, Davion switched off the light and opened the door.
As he left the Basement, the man cried out behind him, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.
“Why don’t you numb your own grief over losing your wife with candy, then! Just one dose!”
Davion paused for a moment, but he didn’t turn to look back.
He returned to the Office with Liam, drafted a report to send up the chain of command, then stopped by the Dressing Room to change out of his soiled Dress Shirt. His bare chest reflected in the spotlessly clean mirror.
He’d been so consumed chasing Cecilia’s whereabouts lately that he’d completely forgotten he needed to exercise. A silver Military Dog Tag gleamed across his chest, its muscles lean from neglect.
Threaded on the chain beside the Military Dog Tag was a pair of Wedding Rings of different sizes.
Davion was halfway into a black Dress Shirt when the conversation from the Basement a moment ago came back to him.
“But you’re a married man, and there’s no ring on your finger.”
He didn’t want to dwell on the nonsense the man had spouted. Yet now that Cecilia was undoubtedly alive, there seemed no reason to go about without his ring. What if she came back one day and found his hand bare? She might misunderstand.
She’d surely be hurt.
Having made his decision, Davion unfastened the chain and slipped the ring onto the ring finger of his left hand. A satisfied smile crossed his face, and he set about arranging his appearance properly.
A visitor was scheduled to arrive early in the morning—someone else coming to pay their respects.

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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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