A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 214

Chapter 214: One Step (3) Part 2

In the heart of the city stood a modest two-story building—its first floor a shop, and its second a place of residence. It was the place where the rotund man, who called himself Jack, had led us.

"This is the place, Professor," Jack said.

"I'll go in first," I replied.

"Yes, of course! Hahaha..."

I examined the building’s exterior as I made my way around it. Rather than stepping inside, I took a narrow passage leading to the back. Beyond it lay a small, overgrown yard—an old, tattered doll abandoned in the grass, a ball rolling, and an aging dog plodding after it.

"Huff, huff—"

The dog gave up on the ball and made its way toward me instead. It seemed fond of people, yet the weight of age had worn it down—each breath slow and strained.

At that moment...

“Relin~ You need to fetch the ball... Gasp.”

A child's soft, sweet voice caught my attention, and I turned toward it. The child standing there froze in surprise as our eyes met. There was nothing remarkable about the child—perhaps, in time, the child would grow into beauty, but for now, merely a child, charming in the way all children are at that age.

However, the child’s face was pale and drawn. Perhaps it was the medals cluttered across my uniform—or merely the sight of a face far too familiar.

"Does this dog belong to you?" I asked.

The child, damp with cold sweat, stammered, “N-No, sir... It... it’s the landlord’s...”

"Is this where you live?"

“I...”

"Is Relin the dog's name?"

“... Yes, sir.”

"The name fits well. It’ll fit even better once it puts on some weight," I said, looking at the child.

The child, small enough to barely reach my chest, held a single book tightly in the arms.

Then, I added, "Do you like books?"

“... Sorry? Oh... yes, sir...”

"Do you know who I am?"

“... Yes, sir.”

I gave a slight nod.

The child trembled, wide eyes glazed with fear. It was not a look of will, but of paralysis—frozen and unable to turn away.

"How many people live here?"

“... Sorry?”

"How many live here?" I asked once more, my eyes on the child.

“... Five, six...” the child muttered, mouthing the words.

"Give me an honest answer," I said.

Tears welled in the child’s eyes, legs shaking beneath. Sweat had already drenched the bangs—it was summer for the child alone.

“Eight... teen...”

"Nineteen people, crammed into a space this small."

The child was likely one of the Scarletborn, though the reason for stepping outside was unclear. Perhaps the child was worried about the aging dog, nearing its final days, or maybe the child simply believed no one would come asking questions here.

Whatever the case, the child bore no signs of the Altar’s indoctrination—neither the traces of its magic nor the weight of its doctrines and chants.

... If even the slightest mark of the Altar had existed, would I have taken the child's life? I thought.

"Nineteen people," I muttered, raising my eyes to the building—far too cramped for so many to live within.

"N-No, that's not right... Not nineteen—nine. Just nine."

I watched as the child hurriedly corrected the words, a quiet scoff escaping me. At the sound, the child’s shoulders gave a startled flinch.

"What book do you have there?" I asked.

“... Sorry? Oh, it’s... a diary.”

“A diary,” I said, stepping back, knowing that getting any closer would only heighten the child's fear. Then, using Telekinesis, I returned the ball and placed a book in the child's arms. "Take this.”

“Oh.”

"You seem to have a talent for magic."

“... Sorry?”

Talent was plain to see with Sharp Eyesight, a basic application of the attribute, and this child's magical talent was undeniable. More than anything, the fact that they kept a diary hinted at a named character with a purpose and motive of their own.

"Go inside. There will be a blood test soon, so it's best to stay out of sight for a while. You'd be better off disappearing somewhere underground."

“... Sorry?”

I turned away without another word. Though I could feel the child's eyes on me, I did not look back.

"Oh, Professor. Has it been confirmed?" Jack asked, waddling into the alley.

I nodded.

“... Then, Professor, you must have seen those hiding here like rats. They are definitely Scarletborn—”

“And how did you know?” I interrupted.

“Pardon me?”

"Being so certain about the Scarletborn based on their appearance is quite the gamble to make. Did someone tell you?"

“... N-No, Professor. It’s just... isn’t it suspicious? Why would they be hiding—”

"How did you know they were hiding?"

The news of Bethan's invention of Blood Magic had yet to reach the public. As a result, the only way for ordinary people to distinguish a Scarletborn was through the unreliable method of appearance. However, Yukline’s reputation was not something lightly disregarded, yet Jack had still sought me out, undeterred by the uncertainty.

“I... I, umm...”

I studied his face—his expression, the subtle movement of his pupils and irises.

"Pardon me? Oh, yes, Professor. I used to dabble in a bit of vigilantism, hahaha."

With Telekinesis, I drew the revolver from his waist and flipped open the cylinder. The chamber was loaded with live rounds.

Clack—

"Pardon me? Oh, well... ahem. It’s not that I expected anything in return, Professor... I merely did it for the sake of public safety. But, truth be told, I am currently running for the position of the city's vigilante leader..."

"Let me ask you one thing," I said, weaving Silence over the area to ensure no sound would escape. "Do you worship the Altar? Did they feed you this information?"

"Haha... Professor, how could that be possible?" Jack replied with a forced laugh, but for a brief moment, his pupils trembled violently before he quickly denied it.

— Are you out of your mind? Where have you been all this time?

— Children.