[AFYC] Chapter 70
As the dogs whimpered for mercy, the captured man suddenly found himself strapped to the same chair where the Wolves had been tortured.
It was then that the man, who had been crushing the dogs underfoot, turned to face him. Beneath the black hair that hung over his face, cold blue eyes glinted.
One of the dogs beneath Oscar’s foot trembled violently before collapsing, while the others shook in fear but didn’t dare flee.
The prisoner’s entire body trembled.
Oscar von Reinhardt approached slowly. The man couldn’t bring himself to look up at this figure who seemed more like the Grim Reaper than a mere human.
Suddenly, the rag was pulled from his mouth, and the scent of cigarette smoke wafted down from above.
“Looks like the dogs are ready for their meal, huh?”
The low voice settled over him like a death sentence. The extreme fear made him feel as if the cigarette smoke was filling his lungs, choking him. His teeth chattered as his jaw quivered uncontrollably.
A deep, low chuckle hit him like a slap.
“S-spare me…”
Thud.
Oscar brought his fist down on the man’s head with brutal force.
Thud. Thud. Thudthudthud.
He beat him mercilessly, pounding his skull until the man was on the brink of losing consciousness. Just before the final blow would have knocked him out, Oscar paused to catch his breath.
He spoke then, his face calm and composed, as if he hadn’t just beaten someone to the verge of death.
“If you want to live, think carefully about what you’re going to say.”
“Uhh… Ugh…”
“Who was responsible for rooting out the spies?”
“Wh-what…?”
The man, drooling blood, looked up at Oscar, who nodded slowly. At that moment, he realised he had just lost one of his last chances to survive.
“Who led the spy-hunting operation?”
The man’s entire body shook violently. His lips trembled as he tried to form words.
“It… it wasn’t found out from inside!”
His mouth was so battered that his speech was slurred. The icy blue eyes that bore down on him were more terrifying than anything he had ever seen.
“That’s not what I asked. Who did it?”
Oscar’s voice was unnervingly calm, his expression even more so, making the prisoner’s legs weaken.
“The Chairman ordered it!”
“Not the dead man.”
The man tried to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come out right.
A brief silence fell, and Oscar yanked off his gloves, tossing them carelessly to the floor.
Realising that he had now lost any chance of survival, the man started thrashing about in desperation.
“The King! It was the King’s orders! I did what the palace…”
“The King, yes, but who in the palace?”
“...”
“...”
“S-sir, please spare me—mmpf, mmph!”
Before he could finish pleading for his life, the wolves stuffed the rag back into his mouth.
Oscar turned slowly, giving the remaining wolves a cold command.
“Make him suffer the same way.”
Make sure that, even if he survives, he wishes he were dead.
Oscar’s lips curled into a twisted smile as he watched the hunting dogs cower in the corner, too terrified to even breathe.
The Beta Mercenaries’ headquarters had been thoroughly decimated.
Oscar walked down the path the search team had cleared for him. Though the bodies had been removed, the floor was still slick with blood, making his shoes wet. The overwhelming stench of death and blood prompted him to light another cigarette just as Simon returned from searching the mansion’s documents.
“Anything useful?”
“It seems they managed to retrieve most of the critical documents when they killed the leader. We’re interrogating those involved to see how they uncovered the spy team, but they all claim it was just on the Chairman’s orders.”
“...”
Oscar lit another cigarette, and as he watched the glowing tip burn down, Simon continued his report.
“We’ve received a translation of the identification papers, as well as a report from Abel.”
Oscar’s icy blue eyes, which had been razor-sharp, finally turned to Simon. Simon, careful not to make any sudden moves, pulled an envelope from his jacket.
“First, the translation of the identification papers.”
In the midst of the blood-soaked carnage, Oscar unfolded the paper.
“The identification papers appear to be official documents from a recognised family in the Dankook. It seems the individual in question is from a lesser-known branch of a fairly well-known family. There doesn’t appear to be anything suspicious on the surface of the documents. However…”
“However?”
“The name ‘Seo Ah’ is somewhat unusual. Since they use ideograms in that region, each character has its own meaning. The character ‘Ah’ can mean love, which is not so strange, but the character ‘Seo’ means forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness?”
The image of Seo Ah, who had stubbornly avoided making eye contact with him, flashed through Oscar’s mind.
