The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - Chapter 26: The Final Kiss- Part 3

The Final Kiss- Part 3

Humming a tune, swaying unsteadily, Toruk ambled down the street, his face slackened into a carefree grin.

The housewives clutching their shopping baskets frowned and quickly averted their gazes. One mother, holding her child’s hand, whispered softly, “That’s what a bad adult looks like,” as if teaching a quiet lesson.

Toruk, usually a bundle of insecurities, would normally be painfully aware of the judging eyes of others, letting their stares gnaw away at him. But today was different.

There was a woman who said she liked him. What did it matter what those clueless fools thought? Their opinions were irrelevant.

His buoyant steps carried him to just a few blocks away from the shabby inn he had been staying at before he suddenly stopped in realization.

“Oh no… oh no, I messed up!”

Caught up in his euphoria, with his head clouded by alcohol, he had wandered here without thinking. He had already checked out of the inn he’d been hiding in last night. Sure, he could rent a room there again, but as the thought crossed his mind, he shook his head vehemently.

He was probably going to spend the night with that woman. A run-down inn, where you could hear the neighbor coughing through the walls, was out of the question. Even if it cost a bit more, he needed a proper place. If he added something thoughtful, like a bouquet of flowers, she would surely be delighted.

Toruk adjusted the weight of the sack slung over his back—a sack heavy with the money he’d acquired by pawning off Ward’s workshop and taking a life. Yes, he had the money.

After a brief moment of consideration, he turned toward a high-end inn he had heard mentioned a few times. The gossip was something he’d always dismissed as irrelevant to him, but they said nobles from foreign lands often stayed there when they visited incognito. It was that luxurious. They might turn him away at the door, judging by his appearance, but if that happened, he could just flaunt his money. Yes, money—he had plenty.

Retracing his steps, Toruk wandered toward the upper-class district of the town, where the wealthy resided.

Perhaps he had drunk too much. His face felt unusually hot. All he wanted now was to rent a room and lie down. Though his mind urged haste, his unsteady legs betrayed him, and he stumbled. Reaching out to steady himself against the wall of a house, he breathed heavily, gasping for air.

“Um… are you okay?”

At the sound of a voice, Toruk looked up. A young woman was standing there, but when she saw his face, she let out a startled “Eek!” like a strangled cry, then quickly stepped back and fled.

What an insulting woman, he thought. Even with this face, there was someone who said she liked him. He grumbled inwardly as he wobbled into an alley.

The dim alleyway seemed to grow darker. His eyes began to sting, as if pricked by needles. His vision turned red, his knees grew numb, his stomach churned, and his chest tightened painfully. He needed to vomit. That would surely help.

“Ugh—blegh…!”

A violent heave overtook him, and his body jerked as something forced its way up from his throat, spilling out onto the cobblestone ground.

The sickly sound of splashing echoed in the narrow alley. Once the retching subsided, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, only to feel a sticky, unpleasant sensation. Disgusted, he frowned.

Even though it came from his own body, filth was still filth. Hastily rubbing his hand on his pants, he noticed a dark stain spreading across the fabric.

“What the… what is this?!”

Glancing down at what he had just expelled, Toruk froze. Before him was a pool of thick, dark blood.

“Ah… ahhh… AAHHH!”

Overwhelming fear erupted into chaos within him. His fevered mind failed to form coherent thoughts, and he let out a guttural, animalistic wail. What was happening to him? He demanded answers from himself but found none.

As he panicked, a voice broke through, soft and scolding, like that of a parent admonishing a child.

“Oh dear… are you alright?”

Toruk turned, trembling. At the bright, sunlit entrance to the alley stood the young woman from before.

“You… you’re here! Call a doctor—please, call a doctor!”

Desperation clawed at his voice, tears choking his words as he pleaded. But the woman simply shrugged her shoulders, as if dismissing him with mild irritation.

“Ah, no, no. It’s meaningless.”

The woman waved her hand in front of her face as though shooing away a fly. Seeing this, Toruk’s expression shifted for a moment into one of confusion, before he screamed with all his might.

“W-what have you done to meee?!”

“What do you mean, what? Did you forget that you kissed me already? How lonely…” she taunted.

“Don’t mess with me!”

In a fit of rage, Toruk stamped his foot, but as soon as he did, he collapsed to his knees. He could no longer feel anything below his knees. He had no idea what was happening, and his face twisted with fear.

His freedom was being slowly stripped away, the numbness spreading throughout his body. Eventually, his face pressed against the muddy ground of the alley, as he crawled in a helpless manner.

“W-what have you… done?”

“I’m a creature of the night. A Nocturnal.”

With that, the woman gave a small chuckle, and Toruk’s face turned to one of shock.

An assassination group? Why would they be after me?

“P-please, help me…”

“Not happening.”

“What… have you done, you harlot?”

Toruk glared at the woman, his bloodshot eyes wide open.

“Do you really want to know? Well, since you asked, let me tell you a little story from the past.”

The woman hummed, her throat making small noises as she continued her tale. Toruk reached out to her, but she was too far out of reach.

“It’s quite a foolish story, really. There was a noble’s son, you see. He got the maid pregnant. Well, it’s not such an unusual story.”

Toruk couldn’t follow what the woman was saying, but now wasn’t the time for idle gossip.

“Well, it’s common enough for a nobleman to have a concubine or two. No big deal, especially when it’s a noble’s son. But, there was this fiancée of his, an extremely jealous woman. She couldn’t forgive the maid for taking away the man who was supposed to be her husband.”

The harsh sound of breathing in the alleyway gradually grew softer, and to the rhythm of that faint sound, the woman continued her tale with a singsong voice.

“The nobleman had no intention of letting the maid go. He truly loved her, unlike the fiancée who had been chosen for him. That’s only natural. But that fiancée, in a frenzy of jealousy, somehow managed to curse the maid. A truly vile curse. And the maid, oblivious to this, gave birth to a child.”

Toruk’s black pupils rolled back as his eyes turned blood-red. His breathing was barely audible now. The woman, without a second glance at him, continued weaving her story with growing emotion.

“It was a beautiful, adorable little girl. Her mother’s dark skin, her father’s blue eyes. The nobleman was overjoyed. As he happily bounced around in excitement, the maid lovingly kissed her newborn child.”

The woman’s words came to an abrupt halt, and a sudden silence filled the air.

“And then… she died.”

The woman’s eyes darkened, and she stared blankly into the air.

“The liquid flowing through that baby’s body—every single drop—was a deadly poison. A poison so vile that even the most fearsome of insects would cower. Her saliva was slow-acting, and her blood, immediate. The worst part was the concentrated sulfuric acid in her tears. Anyone who came in contact with her would perish. The curse from the fiancée took away love from that child.”

A drop fell from the woman’s eye, and as it hit the muddy ground, it hissed and steamed with a sizzling sound.

“Forbidden from forming any bonds of love, the child was hidden away, raised in a room in the noble’s mansion, out of sight from others, until the family’s downfall.”

The woman let out a small sigh, and an icy silence settled over them, as though the air itself had frozen, making everything feel still.

The distant sounds of the busy street echoed faintly, but here, in this grimy alley, time seemed to have come to a halt. The woman wiped her tears with a handkerchief, watching as it melted away in the smoke, and then sighed before turning her gaze toward Toruk.

“You know, women like a man who will quietly listen to their stories. A man who can’t listen until the very end won’t get far with women.”

There was no response from Toruk.

***

“What’s going on here?”

Frustrated, Bodoin glared at the other guards, who subtly looked away.

Last night, they had dealt with the strange corpses of Yakuza members. And this morning, once again, they had to handle another unusual corpse in a dim alley. Even though it was part of the job, it was becoming too much to bear.

Bodoin looked down at the creepy body lying in the alley. Its wide-open eyes were bloodshot and crimson, and blood dripped from every wound in its body. It writhed like a slug in the mud, its lifeless form grotesque.

Such an eerie corpse. It almost seemed as if it had been cursed, which made more sense than any other explanation.

“So, have we identified this one?”

“We haven’t yet. Aside from this piece of paper that came out of his pocket, there doesn’t seem to be anything else on him…”

Bodoin snatched the paper from the young guard’s hand and looked at it.

“What’s this?”

“It looks like a receipt from some tavern, but there’s a map drawn on the back.”

Indeed, the map was hastily sketched, with an “X” marked on it. Judging by the strong pressure of the writing, it was likely written by a woman.

“What’s at this marked spot?”

“Well…,” the young guard hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice and continuing, “It’s a cemetery. The one where the Yakuza members killed last night were buried, behind the entertainment district.”

At once, Bodoin’s eyebrow shot up, and he scowled.

“So what? Did this guy somehow decide to head to the cemetery to get buried, and then collapse along the way? Ridiculous.”

Just as Bodoin muttered in disbelief, he heard hurried footsteps approaching from the main street. Turning toward the bright street from the dim alley, Bodoin squinted against the sunlight. It was a young apprentice guard running toward him, out of breath. The boy, Il, stopped in front of Bodoin, bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for air.

Honestly, a guard who’s this out of breath just from running a little… I’ll have to work him harder tomorrow, Bodoin thought as he looked at the boy with exasperation. Il looked up at him and said:

“Boss! I found it! The ‘The way to make the Dark Green Steel’ has been found!”