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The cell was dark. If the assassin picked up the knife and threw it, there was no way he could perfectly protect the defenseless woman from the incredible force of the genius assassin with just a torch to guide him.

Jacob glared ferociously at the cause of this situation.

Her languid eyes, unfocused, looked amused.

‘Damn it…!’

Just suppressing his curse was a struggle. Margaret spoke leisurely in her calmest tone.

“If I die, the money on the floor is unclaimed. While hard to deposit in a bank, surely some prisoner knows how to launder cash. And look.”

The assassin isn’t moving. Her voice, lightened by a faint laugh, flowed like a song. Turning back with newfound leisure, Margaret’s words proved true.

The cunning girl asked softly, in a teasing tone.

“Were you very scared?”

“Possible scenarios are unpredictable because they’re possibilities. What if something happens?!”

“Oh. You didn’t promise to protect me. If something happens, solve it with the money on the floor. Anyway, I’m not usually reckless, so don’t worry. Let’s skip the trivial stuff.”

“Lady Eilish!!”

“This is my last offer. Maybe it’s a test.”

The floor echoed as white metal clashed with stone. Something far more valuable than the previous gold coins lay there.

Jacob gritted his teeth. Damn it. Platinum coins.

Eilish turned away, indifferent to his decision, and fixed her gaze on the assassin behind the guard. Only then did Jacob see the white-haired man reaching out with a haunted look.

“Screw the offer.”

The grumbled resentment rolled around his mouth. Knowing himself well, Jacob easily confirmed he wouldn’t pass her test.

“…Fine. Do as you wish.”

He finally surrendered. Margaret smiled gracefully, picked up the knife, and moved toward Taylor. Her casual gesture was astonishing. She closed her eyes leisurely.

“Goodbye.”

She casually greeted the frozen assassin. Taylor remained silent for a moment before answering, much to the guard’s surprise.

In a shy tone, uncharacteristic of him.

“…Okay.”

The knife was out of reach. Margaret twirled it slowly. Then, reassuringly, she laughed softly.

The guard quietly picked up the coins as Margaret turned away. Taylor, hugging his bedding, stared at the floor with red eyes. As if peace had arrived, Alcatraz was silent.

* * *

“Is Mel like me?”

Taylor stood right in front of the guard, who had just finished recalling the past, and asked.

Jacob bowed his head silently at the question. Yes, Margaret acted as if everything was over. Naive fool. I was the idiot for believing what I saw.

His guilt-ridden eyes sank into despair. Taylor abandoned the reserved attitude he had maintained in front of her and spoke bitterly.

“She isn’t. She has never killed anyone. Mel isn’t trash like me. Manipulating someone is just the fault of the one being manipulated… What do I care about your pathetic circumstances, right?”

“…”

The guard was frozen. A cold piece of metal touched his neck. But when? His terrified eyes rolled down to see the glint of a dagger.

“…This is insane.”

All he could do was curse. He looked down at the dagger, with its intricate design and red gem.

It was the very same dagger from the day Margaret first visited.

Taylor laughed.

“She was just smart.”

Indeed, Margaret Eilish was the sister of a villainess.

The guard made a choking sound as the knife pressed against his throat. Taylor warned him in a voice so low he had never heard before.

“So don’t you ever mention Mel’s name like that again.”

The dagger was precisely at his throat through the gap between the bars. Taylor’s red eyes gleamed coldly as he took a deep breath. The damp underground air reeked. It smelled of blood.

The familiar stench had become more repulsive since his seizures had stopped.

Taylor laughed, feeling a shiver as he realized that Margaret Eilish, a mere noble’s daughter, endured this disgusting environment to see him.

‘That’s why I can’t let her go.’

He remembered the day he first met Margaret in detail, more precisely than she could imagine. The gem in the dagger he held gleamed the same color as his eyes.

Back then, Margaret, with her characteristic emotionless face, had bent over and greeted him slyly.

At that time, Taylor was still deciding how to act around her.

He had thought she came out of pity or to find someone she could mock without worry.

“Hello.”

But contrary to his expectations, she greeted him casually. He hadn’t even noticed the knife slipping in so naturally.

“…”

Her crimson eyes stared directly at him, capturing him fully. He felt something twist inside.

Margaret, realizing he was staring at her, lowered her gaze to where he could see the knife on the ground.

The dagger, which had slid through the electrically charged bars, was clearly valuable at a glance.

The intricate craftsmanship alone indicated its high value, not to mention the gem embedded in the center. Moreover, it was exceptionally well-maintained. It was excessive for a decorative dagger owned by a noble lady.

Taylor realized it was meant for killing. It was hard to imagine such an item being handed over by the seemingly innocent lady who smiled at him.

‘…Where have I seen this before?’

Taylor felt a strange familiarity with the object. Although there were slight differences from those issued by the guild, it was unmistakably something he recognized.

Meanwhile, Margaret whispered indifferently, as if she didn’t care about his reaction.

“If you really need it, use it.”

She added, urging him to take it. She then pulled out another dagger from her sleeve and placed it on the floor with a dry cough.

Taylor was taken aback by her sleight of hand, typically seen in gambling. She nonchalantly waved the newly drawn dagger in front of the guard and smiled.

“See, I’m not careless about safety.”

Quietly, Taylor lowered his eyes and pulled his bedding over himself. The white cloth he hugged was more than sufficient to hide the dagger, and he pushed it deep into the corner of the bed.

The guard, perhaps not expecting there to be two daggers, permitted Taylor and Margaret’s meetings from that day forward.

Since then, whenever he was bored, Taylor would blankly stare at the spot where he hid the dagger, pondering why Margaret had given it to him. And when he finally realized the reason… how did he feel about it?

“If you really need it…”

After that, he never looked at the dagger again. Not once.

“The guild will abandon me. Probably because I’m no longer useful. They won’t even bother to kill me. I will probably…”

Taylor confessed in a dull voice in front of Margaret, who visited him a few days later. He felt pathetic, even as he berated himself inwardly, but he couldn’t control his emotions at that moment. Part of it was the emptiness when she wasn’t around, but another part was fear.

Recalling her words, he fixed his chilling red eyes on the hidden dagger.

A piece of sharpened metal suitable for killing someone was there.

You will be isolated. His voice trembled. Truly, he was utterly alone in this damn underground prison. Unless he killed himself.

So he pleaded.

“So please, can you come visit me like you do now?”

Kind Mel looked at him quietly, smiling softly. Her languid face held an inscrutable expression.

It wasn’t pity; it was something heavier, a kind of kinship. She whispered. You don’t want to die, do you? Yes, those who abandoned you were harsh. You’re in so much pain, so they couldn’t have been good people.

“Let’s do as you wish.”

Margaret kept her promise to him thereafter.

“But if she might leave now, then I have no choice.”

Whatever the guild wanted, as long as they still wanted him enough to cover an escape, he could play along. Especially if it was the only way to overturn the ending Margaret spoke of.

Taylor smiled broadly, his eyes narrowing, and commanded in a low voice.

“The key.”

An assassin doesn’t make loud noises. The guard, paralyzed by fear, struggled to move. Taylor didn’t let him stall.

Keeping the dagger pointed at him, Taylor pulled out the rope he had fashioned from a torn sheet—he had been preparing it for quite some time—and looped it around the guard’s neck. The following events happened so quickly that the guard didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening.

Taylor dropped the dagger, tied the sheet around the guard’s neck to a metal bar, and began choking him. He paid no attention to the burns forming on his other arm from touching the electrified bars.

Sparks flew immediately, and the body pressed against the electrified bars convulsed violently in pain from electrocution and asphyxiation.

Taylor asked,

“Don’t you want to live?”

The guard, unable to scream, fumbled desperately in his pocket. Taylor loosened the sheet in response.

If only there were an antidote for the paralysis. He clicked his tongue, looking down at the guard with chilling red eyes.

“Turn around and unlock it.”

The makeshift collar remained in his hand. The guard, trembling, obeyed with a quivering voice while catching his breath.

With the sheet still around his neck, Taylor glanced at the long metal rod and piles of stones used by guards to beat prisoners. He threw them inside the cell and used the dagger to draw blood, staging the scene.

The frequent beatings by guards provided enough of an alibi. Discovering the scene, people would assume the guard had gone too far in his violence against a prisoner. It might even lend some justification to his escape.

If the guard were replaced, there was a chance that someone from Glacies could be planted instead. Either way, there was nothing to lose.

He smiled contentedly. Handing the dagger to the gasping guard, Taylor offered what he thought was the kindest advice he could muster.

“I hear the Crown Prince punishes guards severely for failing to watch over a prisoner.”

Use it if you ‘really’ need to.

Taylor’s steps were light as he left the prison.

“I knew you’d come out.”

Near the prison’s outer wall, a man with the guild’s insignia whispered. Taylor looked down at him expressionlessly.

“How long have you been waiting?”

“I was only ordered to wait today. Here’s the master’s message.”

The man, in a polite tone, handed over a scroll.

And when Taylor opened it, recognizing the familiar star-shaped seal, he smiled with an almost childlike happiness.

“The Grand Duke has agreed to cooperate. Complete the task below and return to the guild within a fortnight. There’s no need to kill the watcher. I trust you will do well, my son.”