113.

For a very long time, Ro had looked forward to this day alone. From the very first moment she opened her eyes in Lea’s body until now, it had been her sole fate and desire. Hadn’t she torn through Cardier’s heart and escaped just for this? She wrapped her arms around herself to hide her trembling. Her heart pounded violently, her mouth dried completely. Her blood rushed so fast she could almost hear its roar.

Ro stared directly at the hateful specter of the past. The languidly drooping outer corners of his eyes, the thin lips that felt chilling even with the slightest twist—except for the strangely overwhelming aura of dominance, he was exactly as she remembered Nick to be. Only the clothes he wore were different. He looked as if he had just stepped out from the very moment he murdered Crimson Dawn.

At his gesture, the man sitting at the table quickly vacated his seat. As Nick took his place, one of his subordinates smoothly placed a cigar in his mouth. With the scratch of a match, a round glow of flame lit up in the dim room. The pungent smoke curled between them, and through the hazy air, his voice came out indistinctly.

“Sit. What’s so urgent?”

Ro let out a bitter laugh. When she was still alive, he had merely been pretending to be a delicate nobleman. Hated combat, loved numbers. Disliked ruling, preferred comfort. Yet now, from fingertips to toes, he reeked of raw brutality. It was evident that the blood on his hands had long surpassed that of Crimson Dawn.

Ro stared at him intently. He didn’t look pained, nor sorrowful, nor consumed by regret or anger. If anything, his face seemed brighter. He appeared to have lived well—very well indeed. The sight twisted her insides, which had once boiled with rage. She tightened her grip on her own arm.

“Yeah, maid girl. I heard your story through the Net. Seems you need quite a bit of money.”

He exhaled a puff of smoke and asked, his tone calm and irritating. Ro answered a beat too late.

“…Right.”

“Show it to me.”

“First, the money. That comes first.”

Nick widened his eyes slightly at her words, then chuckled. He pressed the cigar against the table to extinguish it. Ash scraped against wood, sending up tiny sparks. The smell was harsh. He flicked the remaining butt at her shoulder, mocking her.

“You’ve got some nerve. Do you find me funny because I let you walk in so nicely? Hm?”

“….”

“If you mess up, I can gouge out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Ro burst into a hollow laugh. Nick finally reached out, grabbed her cheek, and shook her head back and forth. His interest was exactly like that of a beast toying with its prey before killing it. When he tightened his grip and flung her aside, her head snapped sharply to the side.

Ro smiled inwardly. Such rudeness didn’t even register. There was nothing more wasteful than feeling anger toward someone whose breath was already near its end. The Net’s men hadn’t managed to find her last remaining weapon. The flintlock pistol strapped to her calf felt heavy. There was no tool more efficient at taking a life.

Rosetta crouched like a composed lioness. Don’t get excited. Steady your breath. Find the opening. Leading with emotion before battle was something only an amateur assassin would do. The man mistakenly interpreted her lowered head as submission and let out a low chuckle.

“Finally becoming obedient, aren’t you?”

…You bastard. It was impressive how he had hidden such a nature for nearly twenty years, playing docile—but just as foolish that she had believed it. The years spent like family, the bond forged through hardship, the attentive care he had shown—all had blinded her completely. Now, she saw everything clearly. Rosetta lowered her fluttering eyelids to conceal the murderous intent within.

“Still, I won’t hand over the item until I see the money in front of me.”

“…Still as reckless or as stupid as ever.”

“….”

“Well, fine. But the item better be genuine. Don’t even think about making excuses if it’s not.”

At his gesture, the subordinate standing behind him immediately bowed and disappeared. Ro watched as he pulled out another expensive cigar and placed it in his mouth. Wasting costly cigars, dressed in fine silk. The way he commanded his men, his arrogant tone and manner—every detail soaked in a sense of authority. He had become less like a pirate and more like a noble, his actions smooth, as if perfectly imitated from someone else. So he’d been mingling with the upper class, had he? He’d clearly adopted their ways entirely.

Soon, the floorboards creaked. Nick’s subordinate grunted as he carried in a heavy chest. He placed it on Nick’s lap and opened it with a bow. A mountain of gold coins and ingots glittered brilliantly inside.

“Now it’s your turn, miss.”

Nick crossed his legs and rested his interlaced hands on his knee. His half-closed eyelids looked indifferent, the rest steeped in complacency. His arrogance was easy to read—a posture he could afford because she was a woman, young, and seemingly weak, someone who had never even held a weapon.

Ro took a long, deep breath, just as she had during the Crimson Dawn days. She could feel her blood pounding through her heart and spreading throughout her body. Slowly, she reached into her dress. Her fingertips touched the smooth, slightly grainy texture of wood. Kirgos’s token—the old wooden chess piece. Carefully, she closed her hand around it and pulled it out. Even the small part not fully covered by her fingers caused Nick’s gaze to shift instantly.

“No way… that’s…”

“Yes.”

In that moment, Ro suddenly loosened her grip, letting the token drop to the floor as if by accident. The four pairs of eyes in the room instantly turned downward in bewilderment. It seemed they reacted instinctively before their minds could process anything. That fleeting moment of carelessness—exactly what she had been waiting for. Ro raised her fingers, tore at the hem of her dress, and pulled the pistol from the strap hidden against her inner calf.

Shhk.

The instant she raised the barrel, the hammer was drawn back. Metal mechanisms clicked faintly into place and rotated. All of it happened in less time than a blink. By the time Nick, who had caught the sound, lifted his head—Rosetta already had the flintlock’s muzzle pressed against his forehead. Ro slid her finger deep into the trigger and growled.

“Hands up.”

The expressions on every man’s face in that room must have been identical. Had this woman lost her mind from fear? Or had she been insane from the start? After all, threatening the other party’s safety during a Net-mediated transaction was the most severely punished violation. It was said that once your name was on the Net’s list, no matter where you hid, they would find you and deliver the most miserable death.

So unless the woman was truly mad, it meant she had come here fully prepared to die.

“What is this…?”

“Damn it, grab that woman!”

Ro noticed Nick’s men turning to approach from behind. Instantly, she pressed the muzzle harder against Nick’s forehead and shouted at the men.

“Don’t try anything stupid. Step back, all of you. Unless you want to see this bastard’s head full of holes.”

“….”

“The same goes for you Net bastards. I want only one thing: leave me alone with him. Even for a moment.”

In the dim room, she could see the men’s glances darting nervously among one another. Ro sensed every shift with acute awareness. This was the moment her chaotic, relentless training with Turner finally paid off.

But she had only one hostage, and her time was limited. Ro pulled the trigger deeper. Ready to fire instantly if anyone grabbed her arm or attacked from behind. Yet Nick, whose life was now threatened, oddly seemed delighted, his eyes gleaming with fascination.

“What are you all standing around for? Do as the lady says.”

As if a spell had broken, the men hastily scrambled out of the room at Nick’s command. Ro waited until their footsteps completely faded. In the dark room, their eyes met. Even with a gun aimed at his forehead, he gazed at her with intense, almost hypnotized longing. Under that stare, she felt as if she were being pulled back into a distant past.

“….”

“….”

It seemed he felt the same. A fleeting look of ecstasy flickered across his languid eyes. He flicked his tongue out like a snake, then whispered in a voice thick with anticipation.

“Now, tell me, miss. What is it that you want?”