Chapter 3
Owen pressed the man’s wrist he was still holding under the table and drove the knife into the back of his hand.
As blood splattered, people around gasped and backed away. Even the man’s companions, who seemed to be his subordinates or colleagues, couldn’t dare to interfere.
“Ah!!!”
His blood was mixed into the chips he had just won. Every time the man struggled to break free, the chips under his palm made a crunching sound. The only one screaming was the injured man. No one else screamed and intervened, they either watched the situation or went away.
“Seeing the blood, it seems you won this.”
Looking down at the blood-soaked chips, Owen leaned close to the man’s face and kindly said. Now he acknowledged that the lucky chip with blood on it belonged to the man.
Suddenly, Sarin’s hand, which had been clenched into a fist, was released. Her fingertips were slightly trembling. Even though she saw the man who took away her chip screaming with a pierced hand, she didn’t feel relieved.
All this seemed unreal.
Everyone here seemed to take this situation as normal. Only Sarin, who couldn’t blend in here, felt a chill run down her spine as if she was the only one realizing the strange unreality of the situation.
People focused on their own business again, as if something as trivial as a light bump with someone had just happened. The dealer in front of them suppressed the momentarily faltering smile and called the cleaner after organizing the chips.
The man with an injured hand was quickly taken away by his subordinates. As Owen nodded, the chips he had been dealing with were quickly put away in one pocket.
Just like with the slot machines, even this was dismissed as no big deal.
Sarin, who had been terrified at the sight of the frozen bodies, had to admit it on the third day today.
Everything happening in Eden City is abnormal. But the fact is, no one seems to find it weird.
The roughly organized tables started to turn again. Only the dealer’s voice urging to place chips on the roulette could be heard.
Approaching the confused Sarin, Owen deeply bowed right in front of her. She involuntarily stepped back in surprise, and he picked up the fallen chip and straightened up, holding the chip between his fingers as he looked at Sarin.
“Give it a try.”
“…It’s not my chip.”
“It’s yours.”
How did Owen know what the man, who had left with a knife in his hand, had said? She instinctively felt repelled. Should she bet her luck with the $500 he gave her and meet him again, or should she just go back? As Owen approached, Sarin wanted to turn around and run away.
His golden eyes gleamed cruelly. Unlike on the main street, the man was clearly looking at her with curiosity on his face. With an amused expression, he reached out to hand her the chip. Without him having to say it again, she extended her bloodied right hand and received it.
Owen’s eyes narrowed slightly. The fleeting look became more intriguing.
As soon as she took the chip, he moved the hand on her shoulder to turn her body back to the
roulette table effortlessly. Then, he placed her in his arms and reached around her from behind, gripping the end of the table with both arms. Startled, Sarin stiffened as his solid upper body leaned against her back.
“Bet down, please.”
She realized the trembling voice of the dealer and his glances darting towards her several times were not focused on her, but on the man standing behind her.
“Give it a try.”
“…I’m going to lose.”
Sarin replied with a cracked voice, knowing that her once-in-a-lifetime good fortune would never come again.
“Weren’t you thinking that way anyway?”
His response, as if he had seen everything from the beginning, sounded pleasant. But even without turning around to check, she knew his eyes weren’t smiling. As his breath brushed past her ear, Sarin ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth.
“No more bets.”
The betting was over, but the man didn’t let go of her back. He seemed determined to find out what happened to the chip, so Sarin deeply bowed her head.
Her white nape was clearly exposed under Owen’s gaze.
It was slender and straight. The nape visible through the hair reminded her of something. Not long ago, she had shot an arrow into a deer’s nape. It looked similar, and the yellow eyes lazily looked down at a neck that could be easily snapped with one hand.
“Bet down, please.”
A new game began. The roulette wheel spun round and round. The sound of the ball rolling around the wheel sounded like her life being caught in a wheel, making Sarin grip and release the chip in her hand several times.
“I was watching how you were fucking wasting my kindness. So take a walk.”
He said kindly.
Fucking waste it again.
That last sentence struck fear into her ears. It was true that he had been watching from the beginning. He grabbed Sarin’s wrist, which was not moving, and made her move. Her hand trembled as she grabbed the man’s hand, and it stopped shaking when she saw what happened in front of her eyes.
Their hands stopped on the number 11, the same number she had bet on.
“Here.”
Knowing that 11 wouldn’t come out again, he still stuck to that spot. She looked at the man’s hand holding hers, stained with someone else’s fresh blood. Once again, the chip fell on the number 11 as her fingers lost strength.
The sound of the bell rang along with the dealer’s words to stop betting.
As the sound of the wheel diminished, the bell sounded like it was announcing the end of her life.
“No. 32.”
“Oh man.”
Even though he knew the probability of the same number coming out twice was extremely low, he let out a disappointed sound. As soon as she felt him slowly release his grip from behind her, Sarin was able to escape from the overwhelming pressure that had been weighing her down.
“What a waste.”
He casually picked up a glass of whiskey from the passing server’s tray and then nonchalantly wiped the blood off his hands with the whiskey.
Sarin watched the pumpkin-colored liquid disappear under the carpet as it ran down his fingers. Time seemed to momentarily stop as the water-like hue between his long, thick fingers slowly caught Sarin’s gaze.
The man who had previously pulled out a knife next to Owen now handed him a handkerchief. Without saying a word, the man, who knew his next move, stood by Owen’s side familiarly.
His act of wiping each finger was quite mesmerizing. The remaining blood was wiped away cleanly. Owen attentively observed Sarin, who couldn’t take her eyes off him.
It was odd to see her looking at him through her hair, and she lowered her black eyelashes as if she found it strange.
“Interesting,” Owen blurted out impulsively. Wanting to make eye contact, he lifted her chin to meet her eyes. It was a rare impulse for him, even more so when the words came out of his mouth.
Since Sarin changed the money she held tightly under her hand into chips, Owen had been watching her. He was half convinced that the words that lingered in his mouth when he hesitated in front of the streetlight were his name.
And when he encountered her again at the casino, he was half convinced that she was just an ordinary gambling addict. And his curiosity about the lips that seemed to hesitate to spit out what had been beaten out of him.
Owen lightly clasped her hand.
As he slowly clasped each finger from the thumb to the last, her gaze followed suit.
What should he do with the amusement he found in this mundane daily life where there was nothing new anymore?
“So, what kind of scoundrel are you?”
He said, raising her chin. Spit gathered at the tip of his tongue. His low voice was only noticed by the man next to him.
Owen felt a strange excitement, like when he had discovered the scoundrel who had put his hand on the body of the lamppost, which was almost like a weapon, out of the car window.
The uneven breath of her, her hesitant hand as she bet her chips, her trembling body when he took her hand, every single cell of her body told Owen that her purpose was not the casino.
As if turning the thought of finding it interesting upside down, he turned his body in the opposite direction. As he walked forward, he felt the footsteps reflexively following behind him.
It was like the manner of a small dog chasing its owner. A faint smile suddenly clung to his lips as he walked forward without looking back.
He liked dogs.
No one blocked Sarin’s path. Not even in front of the elevator leading straight to the suite. By the time she stopped walking after mindlessly following him, it was already too late to come to her senses. Owen entered the elevator and pressed the open button, waiting for her.
“You’ve come all the way here, and now you’re just standing there?”
After eagerly following him this far, she hesitated like a timid mouse entering this narrow, square box. Due to her long hair, he couldn’t see her eyes well, and it was difficult to discern her thoughts—whether she was frightened or in contemplation.
So, it became even more interesting.
“I…”
What should she say? He nodded quietly, listening to her trailing words. Even though he had entered the elevator and meant to talk, Sarin refused to get any closer. She was anxious that he might release the button at any moment, and her remaining sanity warned her to stop talking.
Owen was a dangerous man.
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Translator Note:
Hello there! This is Sid. I hope you liked it<3
Next post will be released on February, 15.
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