To deal with Duke Crotsfield, one had to be just as ruthless, cold, and strong. Ivlik Wintermore was a person who perfectly met Karen’s conditions.

“Why didn’t you propose to Cedine from the beginning?”

“……”

“The result might have been different if you had. I didn’t like her working for the Intelligence Bureau, but Cedine was an elite who was bold and persistent. If the three of us had put our heads together, she wouldn’t have been unilaterally victimized by him.”

Karen’s expression contorted. In the past, she might have managed a bitter smile, but since her sister’s death, she had lost her smile completely.

“Well, I also thoroughly hid my news in an attempt to protect her… I’m in no position to criticize the Lieutenant Colonel.”

With these final words, Karen left. Ivlik stared at the photos spread out on the floor, then approached the window. It was a dark dawn before sunrise. He could see Karen’s car leaving the mansion and disappearing into the pitch-black distance.

Karen said she was going to Cedine’s grave. It was a place Ivlik had never visited since the funeral, unwilling to accept Cedine’s death. He couldn’t guarantee what he would do standing in front of her tombstone. What if he starts digging up the earth frantically with his bare hands, shouting at her to get up? It was entirely possible.

The extreme regret that flooded him after losing her had thoroughly destroyed Ivlik’s inner self. What had kept him going for 9 months in his utterly broken state was his obsession with revenge.

And now that the revenge, which had been the sole purpose of his life, was over. Ivlik felt like he was falling down, down like a puppet with its strings cut.

Was there any reason for him to continue living?

Ivlik returned to the bed. He took out a revolver from under the pillow and cocked the hammer. The feeling of the muzzle against his temple was unfamiliar. He had only ever pointed it at others, never having been threatened himself.

“It’s unlikely, but if I were given another chance, Cedine. This time, I’ll never let you go.”

The image of Cedine smiling brightly under the sunlight came to mind. The chiffon ribbon attached to her straw hat fluttered in the wind. A street vendor selling lollipops and soap bubble toys blew bubbles to attract young customers. The children were completely absorbed in popping the bubbles carried by the wind.

Just then, a couple of bubbles floated in front of Cedine. Cedine popped them with her index finger and laughed like a child. A moment later, she returned with a soap bubble toy in her hand. Her cheek was bulging with a lollipop in her mouth.

It was the first time he had been curious about the taste of a cheap, melted lollipop. Ivlik smiled at the vivid Cedine in his memory.

“I’ll eliminate the source of the problem from the beginning. Then I’ll never leave your side and let you enjoy everything.”

The image of Cedine blowing soap bubbles gradually became blurry. Tears rolled down Ivlik’s cheeks. He missed every moment he had spent with Cedine. At the same time, he was in pain remembering Cedine who had been so distraught upon hearing the news of Karen’s death that she could barely move. Back then, he had no choice but to deceive Cedine because it was the best option. Looking back now, he regretted it terribly.

He should have at least comforted her as she lay on the bed crying. If he didn’t know how to comfort her, he should have at least stayed by her side silently.

Ivlik Wintermore, who had spent his life torturing and killing others, didn’t know how to deal with a grieving person. All he could do was listen to Cedine’s cries through the door, watching to make sure she didn’t make any extreme choices.

Remembering her painful wailing as if she was about to vomit her intestines, he suddenly found it hard to breathe. The area around Ivlik’s heart, which he thought had been burned to ashes, ached.

“Just once, please, even if it’s just once, I want to see you again.”

If a devil appeared now and offered a deal, he would take its hand without a second thought. He didn’t care if his soul fell into hell. This place where Ivlik Wintermore was alone was already hell. It couldn’t get much worse than this anyway.

Ivlik’s vision blurred.

“It’s too lonely here without you, I can’t bear it. I didn’t know what loneliness was, but now I do. And guilt… I know it now too. When I close my eyes, the moment you fell after being shot keeps repeating endlessly.”

Why should he keep breathing and living?

“Cedine…”

Finally, a gunshot echoed through the empty mansion.

* * *

When he opened his eyes to the familiar voice of the butler, Ivlik thought he had failed even at suicide. Should he have put the gun in his mouth instead of against his temple? But whether you aim at the lower jaw or not, you can still fail if you’re unlucky.

He had seen several soldiers who had attempted suicide with a gun when they could no longer endure the horrific battlefield, only to have their lower jaw blown off. They had tried to buy a ticket for the express train to the afterlife but ended up in a living hell instead.

Some begged for a lethal dose of morphine. It might have been better to plead to be secretly carried out and shot. If they had begged every passing soldier, one of them might have granted the request out of pity. After a hundred attempts, they might have succeeded. Maybe even within fifty tries.

But a lethal dose of morphine?

That was impossible. In a situation where medical supplies were scarce and everything had to be used sparingly, asking to use precious morphine for suicide was unthinkable. Even soldiers who had lost both legs fighting bravely were only allowed three doses of this drug.

Anyway, if you fail at suicide by gun in this way, all you can do is lie in bed waiting for the moment of death.

And Ivlik Wintermore had failed at suicide by gun.

It was baffling that his optic nerve was intact even though he had shot himself in the temple. Could the bullet have been defective? Even so, he should have been injured once it was fired, but he wasn’t in any pain at all. It wasn’t thanks to morphine. Because a person who had been administered a powerful narcotic painkiller wouldn’t have such a clear mind as his.

‘What on earth is going on?’

Wondering if it was a dream, he tried to sit up. He had no problem getting up on his own. It was becoming more and more incomprehensible.

“How strange. Are you feeling unwell today? Would you like to receive your schedule report in bed?”

Ivlik looked at the butler standing with a notebook. Somehow, it felt like the butler looked younger today. Should he let him continue speaking? Ivlik made a chin gesture indicating for him to go on.

“Hmm, I understand.”

Since Ivlik had become part of the Army Ministry, the butler would come to the master’s bedroom every morning to report the day’s schedule. The first words were always the same. The year, month, day, time, and then the morning weather.

Ivlik immediately cut off the butler after hearing today’s date from his mouth.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Pardon…? What do you mean?”

“You’re saying today is April 8, 1917?”

“Yes.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Pardon?”

This was going nowhere. Ivlik let out a long sigh, then got out of bed. Look at this. A bastard who attempted suicide by gun can walk normally on two feet. Meanwhile, Cedine Liere, who had done nothing wrong, died on the spot after being hit by a hail of bullets. I don’t understand how this world works. It’s not even funny.

“April 8, 1917? Ha.”

Ivlik brushed back the blue hair that had fallen over his forehead and left the room. Despite his incredulous expression, his steps were quick. Maids who encountered their master in his nightgown in the corridor hurriedly bowed their heads in greeting. Ivlik, who was about to pass by quickly, stopped in his tracks at a familiar face he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Why is Nelipa here?”

The maid who was called seemed not to understand the master’s words. In fact, not just Nelipa, but the maid next to her, and the one next to her, all had the same expression. The butler, who had hurriedly followed, asked what was wrong.

“Ah… The child must be about three years old by now. I guess she found someone to take care of it and came back to work?”

Nelipa’s eyes widened. The maids who were bowing their heads in a row also glanced at their colleague with eyes as big as saucers.

“But the timing isn’t good. Coming back just to hear news of your master’s suicide attempt… No, wait. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have allowed the employees to be called back.”

“Master, Nelipa isn’t even married, how could she have a three-year-old child?”

The butler interjected from behind. Ivlik, who was about to retort, made a sound like ‘Ah’ as if he understood.

“You said it’s 1917. Right, I got it. Let’s see how long you keep this up.”