[AFYC] Chapter 29

No one knew the exact number of Reinhardt’s Wolves, where they were, or what they did. All of it was shrouded in secrecy. Even the King of Luxen, who had once betrayed them, was kept in the dark about their activities. Most people didn’t even know these Wolves existed. However, a few of them have surfaced into the public eye.

One such figure was Simon von Bernheim. Simon stood out as one of the few noble-born Wolves with his striking blonde hair and red eyes. He was renowned both externally and internally for his impeccable handling of tasks. Externally, he served as Oscar’s secretary and as a director at Reinhardt Steel. Internally, he managed and coordinated the operatives within the marquess’s household. 

“Call a doctor immediately. If the woman is still in this state by 5 a.m. tomorrow, bring the brothel owner to me,” Simon ordered, walking down the hallway of the Royal Suite at the Ritz Hotel in Felphe. 

He entered the suite quietly, where the sound of running water suggested Oscar was bathing. The Wolves, who had been moving about silently, approached him. 

“The key has been secured,” one of them reported. 

Simon took the key and examined it closely. 

“The replica is ready; it just needs engraving. And here is the verification certificate for the keyholder and her identification.” 

As Simon reviewed the documents, his eyes narrowed. 

“The script is indeed indecipherable.” 

“Yes, that’s why it’s been on hold at the Felphe Bank as well,” the subordinate replied. 

Simon returned the key and the documents to the operative. “Make exact copies and bring me the translations. Place the original key by His Excellency’s bedside.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Make a copy of the verification certificate as well. Once the replica key arrives, ensure it is placed back where it was without anyone noticing.” 

“Understood, sir.” 

Simon waved off his subordinates, signalling that they could leave. He then walked toward the room's open door, where he needed to check the woman’s condition. 

The woman, now the living key, presented a unique challenge. According to Felphe’s banking laws, it would be problematic if she died or lost her mind. 

Simon gently pushed the woman’s shoulder. She was curled up on her side, so light that she seemed to drift with the slightest touch. Under the pale moonlight, her breath was visible, like a mirage. Simon gazed into her unfocused eyes and clicked his tongue softly. He then ordered the guards standing outside her room to leave. It didn’t seem wise to leave a woman in such a vulnerable state alone with men who had spent their lives in the field. 

After confirming she was alive, Simon left the room just as Oscar emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but his pyjama pants, as usual. 

“The key, identification, and verification certificate have all been secured,” Simon reported. 

A Wolf who had placed the key by Oscar’s bedside immediately handed it to him. Oscar took the key and examined it with a casual hand before asking, “What’s her name?” 

“...” 

“The woman, I mean. What’s her name?” 

Oscar’s gaze, fixed on the room where the woman lay, shifted to Simon. 

“The identification is indecipherable. That’s why the Felphe Bank has put it on hold for now.” 

“Find out the movements of the Felphe Bank and the King of Felphe, and bring me the identification translation within a week.” 

“Understood.” 

Oscar began to walk, still holding the key. Simon could be heard leaving the suite, but Oscar’s attention was solely on the object in his hand. 

The key. 

The cold, hard metal was smaller and simpler than he had imagined. Once, he would have torn the ocean floor apart to find this key. It had been his obsession, eluding him completely until, out of nowhere, it appeared on its own. 

“Well... if it’s the price for getting blindsided by a fool, it’s not a bad deal,” Oscar muttered as he paused by the door. 

His icy blue eyes, fixed on the key, shifted to the room beyond the open door, where the woman lay, unaware of her surroundings or how she had ended up there. The moonlight poured over the bed, with only the helpless darkness between them. 

Oscar hesitated for a moment, then resumed his steps. He walked into the moonlit room until he stood by the bedside, where the light sharply contrasted with the shadows, casting half of his figure in the darkness. 

The woman, now the living key, had a face he had never imagined. 

In his mind, the person holding the key was always someone at the pinnacle of power—a pirate king who ruled the seas from Norfolk to the Far East, a drug lord controlling the flow of narcotics, the head of a violent gang, or perhaps even a king. 

But this woman was none of those things.