RURO Chapter 34

Russian Roulette /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

CHAPTER 34

Vicente expertly tightened the tie he had knotted around Tessa’s neck, pulling it like a leash. The knot dug into her throat. Tessa instinctively grabbed his wrist, the one holding the tie.

Should she be thankful he was only choking her just enough to let her barely breathe? Even as she gasped, Tessa didn’t look away from him. She had no intention of begging for forgiveness. She had done nothing wrong. She had only done what needed to be done.

“Still nothing to say to me?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Meanwhile, Vicente was struggling to make sense of the emotion that had taken hold of him. At first, she had just been an important piece in a thrilling game—nothing more than a valuable card. He hadn’t thought she meant anything beyond that.

Annoyance? No, it was deeper than that. Not just some impulsive wave of irritation, but something rising, churning from deep inside his chest.

He was genuinely angry.

Why?

Because of this woman?

Absurd.

Tessa, who used to do nothing but grovel under his boots, had finally defied him. That must have been what got under his skin. Vicente hated dogs that didn’t obey.

He’d given her a bit of attention, patted her head, and now she’d forgotten her place and dared to stand in his way. Despite having a body that could only be healed by him, she dared to think of another man in front of him.

Yes, maybe that was why. That was why he was seething with rage.

Thinking that made his tangled thoughts clearer. But forgiveness was still off the table.

“Tessa. Who is the master you’re supposed to serve?”

He asked while still holding the tie. Tessa didn’t answer. Her gaze was stubborn, her defiance unyielding.

If she needed a reminder of her place as a dog, then so be it.

Vicente flipped Tessa over, forcing her onto her stomach. He didn’t let go of the tie around her neck. Shocked, Tessa let out a scream.

Now, the cityscape below the building stretched out before her eyes. Vicente pressed firmly on her shoulder blades to keep her from moving.

“It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?”

“Ugh… ngh…”

“I personally tore down the filthy slums that used to be here. This area was once utterly neglected—dirty, horrible, hopeless. Even Her Majesty the Queen ignored this place.”

But the view Tessa saw held no beauty. The sensation that she could fall at any moment brought bile to her throat. She barely managed to hold it back.

That kind of fear couldn’t be helped—it was primal. Just being on a rooftop this high made her legs weak. For a low-ranking Sentinel like her, it was even harder to endure.

“I created order here. Do you know what that means? It means those who follow my rules get to live, and those too stupid to do so get buried. How many people do you think are already buried beneath that ground?”

“Then I guess I’ll be joining them soon.”

“Whether or not I bury you… that’s for me to decide.”

No—he wouldn’t bury her. At least not until the game was over.

But there was no need to spell that out for her.

“Should I bury you, Tessa?”

Say you’re sorry. Beg for your life. Cry. Just like you always do.

If Tessa gave up her defiance and shed tears, this emotion he couldn’t name might finally be extinguished.

That’s what Vicente thought. Crushing her spirit would be easy. If she only acted wisely, he’d be satisfied. Then he’d take her to the bedroom, make her spread her legs, and command her to touch herself.

Then she would cry again, remember her place, and return to being his beloved toy.

But Tessa shattered his expectations without hesitation.

“The man you killed was a civilian.”

Vicente’s grip tightened.

Stupid Tessa—she had thrown a stone into waters that were just beginning to calm.

“It meant nothing! He didn’t even threaten me with a knife! You just wanted to blow off steam. You seized on something minor to justify killing a civilian—just because you were in a bad mood!”

“That he was a civilian—does that mean something to you?”

“Because I’m a Sentinel…!”

With that single word, the rage that had begun to settle surged back with a vengeance.

Vicente pulled her toward him so she could look him in the eye. Without realizing it, Tessa had begun to cry. Her face was streaked with tears.

She had shown him the tears he wanted.

But they brought no satisfaction. Only deeper irritation.

“I thought the Agency had trained you well.”

Vicente let out a cold laugh.

“But instead of training you, they turned you into a damn fool.”

Did she really not know those three men had tried to drug her drink? That they’d planned to get her high, drag her off, and violate her however they pleased? Of course she knew. She’d been trained to spot those tricks instantly.

And yet she was still upset.

Because she hadn’t been able to protect that civilian man.

“Come to think of it, you did something just as stupid before.”

“…”

“The day you hesitated in front of a grenade trying to save a service worker—do you really think you survived that day out of pure luck?”

Tessa’s eyes widened. The man who had saved her that day during the meeting with Javier… had been Vicente. Yes, it was true. It hadn’t been out of affection—just a matter of saving a valuable card from being burned too soon.

Even then, he’d been angry about her actions.

Why did it infuriate him so much?

He already knew Tessa was a loyal dog of the Intelligence Agency.

She was just proving it, that’s all. But still, the anger kept rising—and he didn’t know why.

Or maybe… he didn’t want to know.

“Come.”

Vicente dragged Tessa off the rooftop.

The bedroom on the floor below wasn’t far. He threw her onto the bed like she was nothing and climbed on top of her.

Tessa’s face turned pale, assuming he was going to unbuckle his belt. Not that it would have been a bad choice, but Vicente’s eyes were fixed on something else.

He grabbed her wrist. The wound was bandaged with expert precision. Vicente gripped it and ripped the bandage off.

With a snapping sound, the bloodied fabric unraveled. Staring at the wound on her palm, Vicente pressed down on the cut with his fingers.

“Ah—agh!”

Tessa screamed in pain. The more she did, the more Vicente, carried away by a sensation he couldn’t resist, pressed harder. Blood oozed from the wound, staining his hand red.

As he tormented her in this strange way, Vicente’s expression gradually softened. In a voice sickeningly sweet, he whispered,

“You’ll need guiding to heal, won’t you? Shall I help you, Tessa?”

Even so, she was just a playing card for the game.

That’s all Tessa Ambrose was. Nothing worth thinking too deeply about. Just a toy to play with for a little while and then toss aside.

And so, Vicente began to unwrap the toy.

* * *

Ten years ago.

A boy with black irises was strapped to a long chair that resembled an operating table, staring at the people surrounding him. His pale fingertips trembled uncontrollably. Exhausted beyond belief, he suddenly found himself wanting water. His throat felt dry and cracked, as if it might split open.

The adults, too busy exchanging words among themselves, seemed entirely indifferent to the boy’s condition.

“Astonishing. A Sentinel with this level of potential, especially in times like these.”

“With a bit more refinement, he’ll become incredibly useful.”

“Don’t overdo it, Dr. Smith.”

A man cautioned sharply.

“This child is a talent we absolutely cannot afford to lose.”

“That won’t happen. We’ve already accounted for all prior failures due to side effects.”

The boy, dressed in a fine vest and suit just as refined as the adults’, was treated as nothing more than an interesting lab rat in this place.

Knowing that truth, the boy kept silent.

“What we need is an army that can change the tide of war.”

A man who had once been a high-ranking officer in the Intelligence Agency spoke.

“We need Sentinels with overwhelming ability.”

Suddenly, his eyes met the boy’s. The man gave a pleasant smile as he asked,

“If there’s anything you need, just say the word.”

It was a time before he had even been given a code name.

“Vicente.”

The boy’s name was Vicente.