KFBRV Ch 27
- Jan 19
- 6 min read
The driver’s voice drifted through the carriage door, dripping with forced concern.
[Driver] "My Lady, there’s an issue with the wheel. Could you step outside for a moment?"
The second she heard that tone, her instincts flared.
Dammit.
She knew that voice—the honeyed, high-pitched rhythm of a man about to betray someone. She had heard it a thousand times in her previous life.
[Odette] "Very well. Give me a moment to put on my cloak."
She answered calmly, her voice masking the soft click of the internal latch as she locked the door. She quickly unfastened her hair and used the ribbon to tie the flimsy latch in place, reinforcing it.
I should have known when he charged four times the normal rate.
She thought bitterly.
The man’s greed was as transparent as glass.
The driver must have seen Gisela leaving with a gold coin and decided he wanted a share.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds outside.
He didn't come alone. Four... no, five of them.
There was one small mercy: the carriage was cheap, and it only had a window on one side. In a siege, the fewer openings to guard, the better.
It would be wonderful if I were a master of martial arts.
She mused with a dark sigh.
But I am not.
She gripped the pistol hidden in her skirts. It was a last resort. If she used a firearm and killed someone, the Metropolitan Police would investigate. While her status as a Purifier would protect her from execution, the Albrechts would discover she had snuck out.
My best bet is to wait until they tire themselves out, then make a run for it.
[Driver] "My Lady, you’re taking too long. If I may just open— Damn it, it’s locked! She’s faster than she looks!"
A bombardment of heavy thuds shook the carriage. Through the window, she saw several men wielding pipes, wooden clubs, and rusted tools.
[Driver] "Open this door! Now!"
Judging by the way they swung their clubs, they were amateurs. They were likely common laborers driven mad by the sight of gold and the lawless atmosphere of the festival.
The residents of the slums began to stop and stare, drawn by the commotion.
Thud! Crash!
The frame of the carriage groaned and began to warp. A small gap appeared at the edge of the door.
She looked out the window. The ambient noise of the slums—the drinking, the laughter—was fading into a heavy, suffocating silence.
A massive shadow seemed to roll over the area like a dark tide.
I have a terrible feeling about this.
The onlookers who had been laughing a moment ago began to scatter, sensing the shift in the air. Only the bumbling robbers remained oblivious, shouting and kicking at the door.
They’re screaming in a den of monsters. It’s like they’re trying to summon the King of the Underworld himself.
She couldn't resist speaking through the gap in the door.
[Odette] "Is it really necessary to scream while you rob someone? Are you that desperate for attention?"
[Robber] "What is she talking about? Has she gone mad with fear?"
[Robber] "Ha! She’s a high-born lady; she’s probably terrified of a little noise. AHHHHHH! How’s that for you?"
Right... I forgot. Their intelligence is nonexistent.
Odette knew it was too late. Viktor would already be interested.
The thugs continued to jeer and scream, their voices echoing through the alleyway.
She reached into her skirts and engaged the safety on her pistol. If she had to encounter Viktor, her priority was to avoid provoking him.
As she secured the weapon, the hair on her neck stood up. The intuition she had sharpened during two years on the run told her the predator was already watching.
So, this is how we meet in this life.
Viktor König. The third male lead. The man who had hunted her to the ends of the world.
CRASH!
The window finally shattered under the relentless assault. Shards of glass rained down on her, slicing through her sleeves and leaving stinging scratches on her shoulders.
[Driver] "I got her! I have her!"
The driver lunged through the broken window, his hand clamping around her arm like a vice. He began to drag her toward the jagged glass.
Suddenly, a man with crimson hair appeared atop the carriage.
[Viktor] "Robbers posing as drivers? The world truly has gone to the dogs."
He clicked his tongue and dropped down behind the driver with effortless grace. His massive hands reached out, seizing the driver’s neck. With a sickening sound, he used raw, brute strength to separate the man’s head from his shoulders, as if he were tearing a sheet of paper.
Blood erupted from the stump like a fountain. To Odette, the world seemed to move in slow motion.
Before she could hit the ground, Viktor reached out and caught her with a single arm.
His reaction speed was supernatural.
He was towering, with messy red hair and pale green eyes that danced with a lethal sort of mischief. He wore his khaki uniform carelessly, looking more like a delinquent than a colonel.
[Viktor] "Hello there, pretty lady. No need to be scared—the hero has arrived."
He gave a breezy, lighthearted greeting, but stopped the moment he looked at her face. The vacant grin vanished, replaced by the sharp, calculating gaze of an apex predator. He looked at her with a mixture of loathing and intense fascination.
He recognized her.
[Viktor] "Well, isn't this interesting? What is this... disgusting scent?"
His eyes glowed with a predatory hunger.
I forgot how much I hate being around him.
In her previous life, he had been an uncanny tracker. Whether she hid in a dungeon, a beggar’s shelter, or a gypsy’s tent, his animal instincts always led him to her.
[Viktor] "Strange. This filthy place isn't usually our darling's style. And yet, I had a feeling you’d be right here."
He was a creature that existed outside the realm of reason. She had hoped to avoid him entirely, but the greedy driver had ruined everything.
[Robber] "W-what the hell?! Who are you?"
[Robber] "Drop the girl and get out of here if you value your life!"
The remaining thugs didn't recognize him.
His green eyes finally shifted away from Odette. Unlike Johan, Viktor rarely granted interviews, so his face wasn't widely known to the public. Still, anyone with even a passing knowledge of the underworld should have recognized the man everyone worshipped.
If you’re going to be stupid, you should at least have a survival instinct. Didn't they just see their friend get torn apart like wet cardboard?
The thugs were clearly terrified, but they stayed put, emboldened by their numbers. Unfortunately for them, they were facing a sociopath.
[Viktor] "You uncultured bastards don't even read the papers. Imagine not recognizing this handsome face."
[Robber] "Shut up and get lost! Give us the girl!"
[Viktor] "Honestly, there’s no point in playing hero. I work myself to the bone killing Calamities, and for what? So, criminals can feel safe enough to go robbing?"
He sighed and unsheathed the massive sword strapped to his back.
[Viktor] "If you’re going to be a thief, have some dignity. Robbing a lady? You're a disgrace."
[Robber] "W-why are you pulling that out? Put it down—!"
With a single, effortless swing, Viktor took the man’s head off. He moved with a rhythmic joy, clearly enjoying himself.
[Robber] "AGHHHH! Help!"
[Robber] "Run! Just run!"
There were three left. He didn't chase them immediately. He waited, giving them a head start so the hunt would be more entertaining.
Put me down before you swing that thing, you lunatic...
She felt a spray of warm blood hit her cheek. She didn't scream or protest; she knew he hated nothing more than someone ruining his fun.
[Viktor] "Look at that. Even in death, he’s lying in the middle of the road without a permit. A total menace to society."
He clicked his tongue, but his eyes were alight with pure malice. He smiled so wide his fangs showed, looking genuinely giddy at the prospect of the coming slaughter. He looked like a boy playing a game, which only made his cruelty more grotesque.
Even as the thugs vanished from sight, he hummed a tune, savoring the moment before the kill.
Then, the driver’s severed head rolled across the pavement, coming to a stop at his feet. Its eyes were wide, frozen in a mask of terminal horror.
As Odette stared into those dead eyes, her heart plummeted. A phantom pressure tightened around her throat, and her vision began to flicker into blackness.
It was PTSD. The memory of her own death was screaming back to life.
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