To My Gentle Dictator – Chapter 014
“Just a moment ago, I was informed that he… couldn’t handle the wait. Hung himself on a radiator. With the ribbon from the gift I sent upon my return.”
“…”
“Tragic, really. I heard he just got married. A young man, with a bright future ahead of him… gone too soon.”
Lowering his golden lashes, Ulrich let out a quiet click of his tongue, his expression genuinely sorrowful.
Vasily couldn’t look away.
No true Velusian soldier would ever choose hanging over a bullet—
Officers, in particular, hated knots.
But whether the man had done it himself or not, the sight of Ulrich—
An angelic figure mourning over a corpse—
Was something that even a man hardened by war and purges found utterly disturbing.
Something chilling.
Like a fallen angel, cast down by divine wrath, still walking in human form.
“Brother.”
Ulrich’s gentle, celestial voice snapped Vasily out of his thoughts.
“To be honest, I find my new position a little overwhelming.”
“…”
“As you know, the scope of my authority is rather broad. It makes it easy to become… overconfident.”
“…”
“For example, even if I were to take something from someone’s home, I could always justify it as ‘part of my duties.’ You only just stepped down, so perhaps you were confused and made a mistake. What do you think?”
The silence that followed was brief.
Grinding his molars, Vasily glared at Ulrich before spitting out a short reply.
“It was a mistake.”
“Good.”
Ulrich stubbed out his cigarette, standing up as if the conversation were over.
Vasily watched him walk toward the door—
And then, on impulse, blurted out:
“What are you planning to do with her?”
Ulrich, his hand already on the doorknob, answered flatly.
“Not sure.”
Then, as if just remembering something, he tilted his head thoughtfully.
“I was considering asking you for relationship advice.”
“…Relationship advice?”
“Yes. Things like what she likes, what she’s interested in these days.”
Ulrich’s voice was light, indifferent.
“But then I realized—you wouldn’t know.”
Vasily let out a disbelieving scoff.
“You do realize what I did to her, don’t you? And you still want to talk about ‘relationship advice’ with me?”
“Is that strange?”
“Strange? Any normal man would want to rip apart the bastard who treated the woman he loves like that.”
“I see.”
Ulrich let go of the doorknob and tilted his head in mock contemplation.
“So, to avoid being an idiot, should I beat you to a pulp right here?”
Vasily flinched—just for a second.
“If I were you, that’s exactly what I’d do. Hell, any sane man would—”
“Hmm. But from what I recall, you seem to prefer beating the women you like.”
“What the fuck?! Who said I—”
Vasily shot up from his seat, ready to lunge at him, fury flaring in his eyes.
Ulrich, glancing at the chair Vasily had knocked over, spoke calmly.
“Of course, everyone has different tastes. I respect that. It just doesn’t align with my own principles.”
“And what the fuck are your principles, huh? Marking a woman you don’t even care about just to piss off another man?”
“Education shouldn’t be influenced by emotions. Whether it’s people or animals.”
“What…?”
“Besides, if you don’t even care about her, why are you getting so worked up over someone else claiming her?”
Vasily fell silent—and Ulrich smiled.
A gentle, patient smile—like a teacher addressing a difficult student.
“Be more careful from now on, brother. I hear you got yourself a new car after transferring to the Foreign Ministry.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know how clumsy I am behind the wheel.”
“…”
With that, Ulrich walked out of the interrogation room.
Vasily, stiff as a statue, slowly turned toward the desk—
Then slammed his fist down with a resounding—
BANG!
The metal desk shook, and the cup of cocoa tumbled to the floor, shattering loudly.
“That fucking bastard…!”
Down the hall, the waiting NSS agents flinched, exchanging glances.
Ulrich, strolling past them, smiled pleasantly.
“Next time, serve espresso instead of cocoa.”
“Ah… of course, sir.”
* * *
The moment she opened her eyes again—what had she expected?
Half-lost in a daze, the first thing that registered was the faint sound of running water—
And the quiet disappointment that, once again, she had survived.
As her mind cleared, confusion flooded in.
The setting sun streamed through the windows, casting its glow across the room.
The ornate frescoed ceiling and marble walls were bathed in soft rose hues, and the crystals of the chandelier shimmered like molten gold.
Sasha staggered upright, blinking.
‘What… is this…?’
She was sure she had lost consciousness in her cramped, decaying apartment—
So how had she ended up back in this dreamlike place?
Had it all just been a nightmare?
Had Vasily coming to find her—and everything that had happened afterward—been nothing but a terrible dream?
Her gaze dropped to her wrist.
‘…No.’
Faint bruises marked her pale, stick-thin arm. The kind left behind when someone grabs and twists too hard.
But they didn’t look fresh. They looked as though days had already passed.
‘Am I finally going insane?’
A horrifying possibility surfaced. What if she had lost her mind and was now trapped in a hallucination?
Because if this wasn’t a hallucination. Then how else could she explain the impossible?
Her disoriented gaze drifted toward the balcony on the far side of the bedroom.
The glass doors were concealed behind thick lavender velvet curtains.
They were the only curtains drawn in the entire room.
“Were there always curtains there…?”
As she stared blankly at them, trapped in a surreal daze, the faint sound of running water abruptly stopped.
She turned her head just in time to see…
A wall panel behind the periwinkle couch slide open.
A hidden sliding door—one she hadn’t even known was there.
And from it emerged a man in a white bathrobe.
“Ulrich…?”
Sasha blinked numbly, her sore, dry eyes struggling to focus.
Her lilac irises—adrift and unsteady—
As if she were lost in a dream.
Ulrich barely spared her a glance.
Rubbing a towel over his damp hair, he passed by the bed—
His entire figure bathed in the fiery glow of the sunset, making him seem even more unreal.
At the chime of the bell, the door opened, and a servant entered, carrying a tray.
Sasha could only stare, utterly speechless.
“Is this real?”
For a moment, she felt certain she was still hallucinating.
There was no other explanation for what she was seeing.
Ulrich—fresh from the shower, wearing nothing but a robe.
Like a painting come to life.
Not just because he was beautiful…
But because he felt so distant, so untouchable, as if he weren’t truly here.
“Eat.”
Ulrich finally spoke, running his fingers through his damp hair as he approached the dry sink.
His voice was flat, indifferent.
On the tray, neatly arranged, sat a bowl of millet porridge with milk, a packet of powdered medicine, and a glass of water.
The warm, nutty aroma curled into the air.
But Sasha couldn’t bring herself to eat.
“U… Ulrich, I… What happened—”
She stammered, trying to form the words. But Ulrich cut her off.
“Shura disappeared, so I went looking for you.”
He spoke so casually. As if it had been nothing more than an errand.
“No one would dare come into my home and steal a guest away. So I had to figure out whether you left on your own… or not.”
⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ✩ ﾟ｡ ⋆
☕ Hi, friends! Your support means the world to me. If you’d like, you can buy me a star here: Click the link on the image! 💖
Thank you for keeping me inspired! 🌸
⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ✩ ﾟ｡ ⋆
