There’s Something Special About Her - Chapter 4

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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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Episode 4.
With tension awakening every nerve in my body, I gripped the short dagger firmly.
I rose from the bed in silence and walked toward the door.
I even suppressed my breathing.
Creak, creak.
The footsteps drew steadily closer, their direction unmistakably toward my door.
Knock, knock.
Someone rapped their knuckles against the door.
“Ruki.”
It was Jake’s voice.
“…Yes, Jake.”
But I couldn’t let my guard down.
I pressed my back harder against the wall near the door.
“Assembly order. Change and get out here now.”
Jake spoke urgently and curtly before moving on to knock at the next door.
Soon, footsteps began sounding sporadically throughout the floor as people woke from sleep.
“Phew.”
So it was real.
I activated the Artifact, changed into clothes as Runelc Ayns, and headed to the assembly point.
“What’s this about?”
“No idea. Word is there’s an emergency meeting at the Main Building, and they want us to stand watch in the corridor.”
“An emergency meeting?”
Action Team 13, myself included, had arrived at the third floor of the Main Building where the Grand Conference Room and the Duke’s study were located.
The meeting must have already begun; the dim, chilly corridor outside the conference room was lined with other team members who’d arrived earlier, standing guard.
“You, here.”
Jake lowered his voice and positioned me directly in front of the conference room door.
Why here of all places?
I frowned in protest, but Jake silenced me with a look.
It was clear he was dumping the post on me because he didn’t want to stand it himself.
Coward. Absolute coward.
With no choice, I kept watch by the door and studied the faces of those who’d arrived before us.
Whatever had happened, they all looked terrified.
A bad omen.
An emergency meeting in the dead of night, and the organization members’ frightened expressions.
‘What’s happening in there?’
But the massive conference room door, firmly closed, had soundproofing that was far too excellent.
After a while, tension was just beginning to ease.
The conference room door opened without a sound.
But before I could process the fact that it had opened, something pierced my nostrils—a sharp, metallic reek.
‘Blood.’
The scent of blood—so familiar to me, yet equally revolting—wafted through the gap in the opened conference room door.
And then a man appeared.
Exceptionally tall, with brown hair tied high in a tangle and sharp eyes hidden behind glasses—a piercing gaze of deep green—and a tight, chilling mouth.
‘Dupont Clansher, the Duke’s right hand.’
I’d seen him many times in documents when I was with the Information Department at Whisker, but this was my first face-to-face meeting.
I found myself looking up at Dupont Clansher directly.
That was my mistake.
“You.”
Our eyes met, and Dupont Clansher flicked his finger.
“M-me?”
I stupidly asked for clarification, and one of his handsome eyebrows arched slightly.
“Follow me.”line>
Ah, this doesn’t feel good.

I had no choice but to lower my head slightly and follow Dupont Clansher.
The moment I stepped fully into the conference room.
“Huh.”
I instinctively held my breath.
The conference room was packed with people in Knox uniforms.
Organization members pressed against the walls of the vast chamber, and high-ranking officials seated along a long table.
And executives in comfortable chairs arranged in a loose circle at the front.
Any ordinary person stepping into this space would have had their legs give out from the overwhelming oppressive atmosphere filling the room.
But that wasn’t why I’d gasped in alarm.
‘It’s not from one person.’
I should have realized it sooner.
The smell of blood filling the conference room was thick and intense.
No single body could produce such a concentration of blood.
I surveyed the conference room interior quickly, pretending to cover my mouth.
There were roughly three hundred organization members in the Grand Conference Room.
It was only a small fraction of Knox’s total force.
These must be the elite members of Knox.
So why were they all gathered here at this hour?
The pale faces of everyone along the walls and at the table all stared in one direction.
‘That way?’
I followed their gazes to look at the executives.
There were seven executives in Knox.
Though it was my first time seeing their faces in person, I had continuously gathered intelligence on them while at Whisker, so they felt as familiar as neighbors I’d known for years.
The executives seated in various postures on the comfortable chairs were all from Vassal Houses that had served Knox loyally for generations.
And right now, three of the seats were empty.
‘One is Dupont Clansher, who just stepped out to fetch me. Another would be that one.’
I’d already heard that the Head of Personal Guard—”that one”—had been away from the capital for months.
‘The last empty seat is… Grayer Knox.’
As you could tell from the Knox surname, Grayer Knox was different from the other executives—not from a Vassal House, but from the Duke’s own family.
He was even the Duke’s uncle and had been managing the Information Department since the previous Duke’s time.
Just as I was wondering why I couldn’t see that foolish old man’s face, someone in a Knox uniform rose from the darkness.
No.
Not by his own will.
Someone had grabbed his neck, lifting his body up.
He thrashed, his feet no longer touching the ground, but seemed powerless against the grip.
“P-please… spare me… Ack!”
Crack!
Before he could even finish his desperate plea, the sound of bones being crushed echoed out.
His neck snapped like a clay figure, and his life ended—but not the horror.
Splat!
His severed head rolled across the floor, and red rain fell inside the conference room.
Over the body that fell with a thud like a sack of goods, I could see another figure kneeling in the center where the executives sat in a circle.
‘…Grayer Knox.’
The owner of the last empty executive seat.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Grace. I have no excuse. Please, I beg for your forgiveness—”
And looking down at Grayer Knox, who was trembling and begging for mercy after tearing a man’s head off with one hand, was.
“Hey.”
Suddenly my vision went dark.
No—Dupont Clansher had stepped directly in front of me.
The height difference was so great that I mistook it for darkness momentarily.
“Go prepare a bath.”
“A… bath?”
What kind of nonsense was that?
“You new?”
Dupont Clansher’s frown deepened in displeasure as he pointed to a door in one corner of the conference room.
“There’s a bathroom connected to the Duke’s study. Draw a bath.”
What, when this estate has hundreds of employees?
And you’re waking someone in the middle of the night!
It was dirty and cowardly, but Dupont Clansher was Knox’s second-in-command.
Someone like me—a mere member of the rank and file—could be dismissed with a single finger.
And I was not someone who could afford to be thrown out of Knox.
Damn.
Why is my bad premonition never wrong?
Just as I was about to move in the direction Dupont Clansher had indicated.
“The Information Department’s oversight…”
“A spy’s fate is…”
Fragments of whispered conversation from people pressed against the walls reached my ears.
“Ah.”
Information Department. Spy.
I’d only caught two words, but they were enough.
Gnash.
I clenched my teeth and rushed into Killian Knox’s study.
Without even looking around the space, I found the bathroom and turned on hot water full blast.
“This should be enough, right?”
I noticed my hand gripping the bathtub was shaking slightly.
The man in uniform whose neck was torn off.
“A spy… he was a spy.”
No wonder Grayer Knox trembled and begged Killian Knox for mercy like that.
It was the Information Department’s job to prevent spies from infiltrating Knox.
So Killian must have rooted out a spy that Grayer Knox had missed.
Grayer Knox was the executive I knew best among the seven.
He had been Knox’s information officer during my intelligence war with him when I was at Whisker.
He was adequately incompetent and adequately lazy—not a particularly difficult opponent.
For someone of his skill level, missing a spy wasn’t surprising.
But that wasn’t the point.
My tangled mind was filled with nothing but the gruesome sight of the spy’s body being torn in two moments before.
“If you’re caught, that’s what happens.”
Killian Knox’s notoriety for savagery was no exaggeration.
Perhaps Whisker was far more humane by comparison.
“I absolutely cannot meet him.”
Grayer Knox’s Information Department might be deceivable, but Killian Knox might not be.
But unfortunately, I had to finish the task Dupont Clansher had given me and escape.
‘Forget it.’
Whoosh!
To leave as quickly as possible, I turned on the cold water too.
And of course the tub was unnecessarily large!
“Done!”
I bounced impatiently while waiting, then closed both faucets the moment the water had filled enough.
Now I could leave, right?
I was just stepping away with a sigh of relief.
Bang!
The heavy bathroom door swung open as lightly as paper, and a man entered.
Step, step.
My gaze had fallen to his feet, which left crimson footprints with each step, when I suddenly felt a sharp killing intent and looked up without thinking.
And I found myself staring directly into a pair of golden eyes.
‘Killian Knox.’
Ah, so that’s why they called him a dragon’s descendant.
Rather than human eyes, the pupils were truly slit like a dragon’s—golden and gleaming—and they felt like they were piercing right through me.
‘They say if you look into Killian Knox’s eyes, you turn to stone.’
I’d heard it said once as a joke.
I needed to move.
I needed to lower my gaze quickly.
But my body wouldn’t obey my mind.
My eyes were trapped and couldn’t turn away.
Silver hair polished and sharpened like a forged blade, and sharp brows above.
Beneath them, deep-set eyes and a commanding nose.
Blood spattered across perfectly shaped lips and porcelain-pale, flawless skin seemed almost obscene.
And slightly disheveled hair and collar emanated an arrogant, decadent beauty.
When I’d been working at Whisker and gathering intelligence on Killian Knox, the word that appeared most frequently was “insane”.
I’d thought it meant Killian Knox was truly mad.
But maybe it was his beauty that was insane?
Such an absurd thought bloomed in my muddled mind.
Step, step.
“…Ah.”
As Killian Knox resumed his steps, passing right beside me, my suffocated breathing finally released.
Once I could breathe, however ragged, my mind cleared again.
‘I have to get out of here now.’
With nothing but that thought, I walked with the utmost stealth.
With each step, my heart felt like it would burst from tension.
Just as I was barely about to cross the threshold of the bathroom.
A chill ran down my exposed nape—exposed because of my short hair—and I heard it.
A low voice, languid yet carrying an edge of metal, calling me back.
“There, you.”

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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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