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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 53: Because I promised to return (3)

Chapter 53: Because I promised to return (3)

The‍‍⁠ Boy Who Cultivated​ Roses.

The‍​ night in the⁠⁠‌ back alley was​ brighter than the⁠‍ day in the⁠‌​ city.

Since‍⁠ it was a place where those‍ who could only⁠‍‌ live in the​ darkness gathered, most⁠‍⁠ people who lived‌​ in the back⁠‍ alley were usually⁠⁠⁠ active at night.‍

Among⁠‌ them, if it‌ were a member‍‍ of Captain Hoover’s​⁠ organization, which was⁠⁠‌ dedicated to smuggling​ as its main​⁠ activity, not much‌‌‌ needed to be​⁠ said.

One​‌ of Captain Hoover’s‍⁠​ organization members, Lame‌⁠‍ Harven.

At​‌​ this moment, with​⁠ a document in⁠⁠ hand, he was⁠‍ suffering from a headache.

“Jack​‍ One-Armed is going​‌ crazy…”

The‍​‍ ledger he held‌‌‌ in his hand‍​ was empty in‌‌​ many places now,​⁠ but Harven, who‍‌‌ had to fill​⁠ it out, only‌‍ felt overwhelmed by​ what he had‍ to write on‌‍ the documents.

Jack​​ One-Armed, who practically‍ dominated the back‍ alley.

Jorge,‌ the knight of⁠ the prostitutes, had⁠​ fallen, and other​​ organizations were also‌‌‌ severely weakened, so⁠ now there was‍​ no organization that‍​‍ dared to challenge‍​ him.

Even⁠​ Hoover, who engaged​ in a special​⁠ business like smuggling,‍‍ was only slightly⁠ freer from Jack’s⁠⁠ control, but even‍ that was a thing of the‌​ past.

“What‍ are we supposed⁠‌ to do if‍ you keep stealing⁠ so blatantly?”

Harven​⁠‍ sighed deeply as​​ he covered his‌‍ face with both⁠‍​ hands.

Jack​‍ One-Armed had always​ been someone who​​‌ respected boundaries.

Although​‍⁠ he was an​ expert in squeezing‌​‍ a penny until⁠ it turned into⁠‌‍ a silver penny,⁠⁠ he was not​⁠⁠ someone who would⁠‌‍ try to corner​​​ his debtors.

He⁠‌​ wasn’t like he‍​ was raising geese‌‌ that lay golden‌​ eggs, but at‌‍⁠ least he had​‌ no intention of​ sinking the ship‍ of people who‍ earned enough to‍‍ be considered rats.‌⁠

However,⁠ since Jorge died,‍​ Jack had shown⁠⁠ a completely different‍​ side.

He⁠⁠ robbed people so⁠ ruthlessly that even‍‌ moneylenders wouldn’t dare,‍‍​ and as a result, the economy⁠ of the back​ alley was crumbling.⁠​​

Someone⁠⁠​ even said that⁠‍​ Jack was immersed‌​ in alcohol and​‍⁠ wasn’t managing the‍‌ organization, and Harven‍​‍ really thought that​‌ might be true.‍

The​​ worms without anyone‍ to control them​‍‌ were crumbling more​ and more.

“I‌ must make a report first.”

In​‌‍ the end, Harven‍ had no choice​​‌ but to report​‍​ to Hoover about‍‍ the goods looted‌ by Jack’s henchmen‌⁠​ once again today.​‍⁠

He⁠​⁠ might hear a reprimand, but it​‍‌ was inevitable.

That‍‌​ was the job⁠‍ Harven had been‍​ entrusted with.

Knock-knock-‍​

Coming‍⁠ out of a room large enough​ to contain only​​ a desk, Harven​‌⁠ encountered a young​​‌ member of the‍ organization entering.

“Harven,⁠ did you hear?”‌⁠

“What⁠‌ thing?”

The⁠‌ organization member in⁠ charge of patrolling‌ the area opened‍⁠‍ his mouth to‌ Harven with an​ expression indicating he‌⁠‌ was remembering something​⁠‌ important.

“They‌ said the back‍ alley is blocked.”‌‌

“Why?”‌‌

“They​ said they came‌ from Sturma to‌‌ catch Jack One-Armed.‌‌ They say Shohara’s‌ guards surrounded the‍⁠‌ whole place.”

“Oh…”⁠

Harven‍ sighed as he​‌⁠ heard those words.⁠

It​ has finally come​ to this.

Jack‍⁠​ One-Armed finally crossed​‌⁠ the line.

Harven​​ gripped the cane‌‌​ he held, thinking⁠‍ there would be‌​​ much to handle‍‌​ after they caught​‌​ him.

“But⁠⁠ you know, weren’t‌​ you close to⁠⁠ that guy?”

“Who⁠⁠ are you talking​​‌ about?”

As‍ Harven was heading​ to Hoover’s office,⁠‍ the organization member’s‍ voice came from​‍⁠ behind.

“I’m⁠⁠ talking about Vlad.”‍‍​

“…Which⁠ Vlad?”

When‌​​ the name he​⁠ hadn’t heard in‍ a long time‌⁠⁠ surfaced, Harven turned‍⁠ to look at​ the organization member‍ who was speaking⁠⁠ to him with​⁠​ a puzzled expression.​​

“It’s‌‌ just that I didn’t see him​⁠ directly, but…”

“They​‌ said the executioner‍‍⁠ who came from⁠​⁠ Sturma was blond.‍ Furthermore, he said​⁠ he himself was⁠‌ Vlad Of Soara.⁠‌‍ Could it be‌⁠⁠ him?”

“What?”‌

Harven​ felt his cane⁠ tighten in his‍ grip upon hearing⁠ those familiar words.⁠

“…Is​ this real?”

“Yes.⁠ Didn’t they just​ say they’re going‌⁠ to put a flag in front⁠⁠ of the Smile‍‍ of the Rose?”‍‌

“….”‌​‍

Blonde⁠ hair, Vlad, and‌​ the smile of​ a rose.

They⁠⁠ were all words⁠‍⁠ related to someone.‍⁠

Harven’s​​‍ heart pounded hard.‌‍⁠

“Take‍‍⁠ this.”

“What?”⁠

After‍ handing over the‌​ stack of documents⁠ to the organization‍‍ member, Harven began‌‌‌ to walk out⁠ hastily.

“Where⁠ are you going?”​​‌

“I‌‌ have to go.‍‍ I have to‌‌ go check it⁠​‍ out.”

Harven,‍‌ who was sensitive‌​⁠ to information and⁠​​ news, already knew‌ about the existence⁠‍ of Vlad Of​​ Soara. The young​ sprout from Bayezid‌​ who showed his‌ bravery in the‌ Deirmar duel and‍​ stood out in‍ the Deathworm hunt​ this time.

“Maybe‍‍⁠ it’s true!”

But‌​ just with rumors,‍​ he couldn’t be​‌ sure it was‍ the Vlad he⁠​ knew. He had⁠ done such amazing‍​ things.

The​​‍ Vlad he knew‍‌ was definitely a plausible candidate, but‌‍‌ it was hard‍‌ to believe he‍​​ had done something‍‍ so big.

“And⁠ he might get‌​​ whipped again!”

“Just​‍​ a little late!”⁠

Harven‍⁠ stepped out into​ the closed street​‍ to confirm if‌ it was the‍ blond boy he‍‌​ knew.

Leaning​⁠‌ on his cane,⁠​‍ his faltering steps‌⁠ were surely clumsier‍ than before.

***‌‍⁠

“Throughout⁠​ all this time,⁠ you could have‌ replaced your teeth.”⁠⁠‌

“Hm…”‌​

Vlad​​ looked at the‍​ man lying helpless⁠‍⁠ at his feet.⁠ It was the‍⁠​ man who had‌‌⁠ entered with Jack​​ One-Armed during his‌‌ time as Jorge’s⁠‌‍ right-hand man, knocking​ over crates of‍‍ wax.

The‍​ man still had‍ empty sockets from⁠ the blow.

“They’re⁠⁠ no longer needed.”‍‍‌

Vlad​ silently pushed his⁠ sword into the‍‌‍ man’s chest as‌ he lay fallen.‍

“Ah…”‍‍

The⁠​ man, unable to⁠ properly groan, let‌‍ out a bit⁠‍ of foam as‌ he slowly dropped​⁠​ his head with​ a bleeding neck.‌

“Stop…”‍⁠

Vlad​ sighed for a moment as he‌​‌ looked back along‌ the path he​​ had traveled. A hallway filled with‌⁠ blood. Broken stairs.‍‌ Quiet prostitutes’ rooms.‌

All​⁠ of Jack One-Armed’s​ subordinates, more than⁠ fifty, were dead​‍ from the boy’s​ sword piercing them.‌ None were able‌⁠​ to breathe anymore.⁠

[That’s​ enough.]

“…”‌

Listening⁠‌​ to the voice’s​‌ words, Vlad wielded‌ his sword to​⁠‍ clean the blood.‌

The​ young man had​‌ pushed himself onto‌‍‍ a path of‌‍ suffering. With the‌‍ aim of assassinating⁠ the blue moon⁠⁠ knight, Vlad also⁠‍‌ had to closely‌​⁠ follow the steps‍ the man had‌‌⁠ left behind.

“Yes,‌​ this should be‍‍ enough.”

And‍​ although it wasn’t‌ perfect, Vlad was​⁠‍ able to recreate‌⁠ to some extent​ the scene of​​​ that day. It⁠​⁠ was filled with‌ roses that the⁠⁠ young man had‌ cultivated.

“I​ have to finish‌ this.”

Vlad,‍⁠‍ wiping the sweat⁠ or blood from‌ his forehead, looked‍​‍ at the stairs‌⁠‍ leading to the‌‌ fourth floor as‍⁠​ he leaned against‌ the wall.

The‌ first floor was‌​ the lobby. The​‌‌ second and third‍ floors were bedrooms.⁠ And the fourth​ floor was the‍⁠ organization members’ space.​‌

There‍‍‌ used to be‌​ Jorge the knight‍ of prostitutes who‌ always sat with​⁠ the same appearance,​​​ eating his designated​⁠ meals.

“…”‌‌

Vlad‍‍‌ climbed the stairs​‌‍ leading to the​ fourth floor one‍​ by one.

Knock-knock-​‍

The‌ ominous sound from​⁠​ that day still⁠⁠ echoed here. Though‍⁠‌ the stairs needed‌​ repair, the fact‍‌⁠ that they had‍‌⁠ been left unrepaired‌‍ for half a year also meant⁠‍‌ that the smile‌​⁠ of a rose‍‍ had not been​‌​ properly attended to‌ during that time.⁠‍

‘Marcella‌ would be scared.’‌​​

Climbing​​⁠ the stairs he‌ missed, Vlad had⁠ a casual thought​ as he did‌‍‌ before. But the​​‍ boy climbing the⁠‍‍ stairs was no​​ longer the Vlad‌⁠‌ who sold candles.‌

“I’m⁠⁠ here. Boss.”

“Oh,‍‌ yes. Promising boy.⁠‌ Come here.”

On‍ the fourth floor,‌ where all the​‌​ subordinates had crowded,‌​​ only Jack One-Armed⁠​⁠ was seated.

Jack​‍ turned his head‌‌⁠ as if glad‌‍​ to see him,‌​ but Vlad didn’t‍ move an inch.⁠

“It’s‍⁠ boring.”

When​‍‌ Vlad, without saying‌ a word, stood​‍​ there with a grim look, Jack⁠​​ chuckled to himself⁠ and raised his‌‍​ liquor glass.

This​‌‌ would be his‌​ last sip.

“You’re‍⁠‌ really Vlad Of‍ Soara. I heard‌ the rumors.”

“Did​‌ it spread all‌ the way here?”‍‌

“I‌‌ should have brought‍⁠ you here two⁠‌⁠ years ago. Who⁠​‍ was in charge‌⁠⁠ back then?”

Jack⁠ frowned, thinking for‍‌‌ a moment before​ laughing.

“Well,‍‍ that bastard’s already​ dead.”

Drinking​‍⁠ from his glass,​‍ Jack, who was‍⁠⁠ standing with difficulty,⁠‍⁠ positioned himself in‍ front of the⁠ young man.

“Still,⁠⁠⁠ it’s good to‍‍ meet someone familiar.”​

With‍ one hand on⁠​ his hip, Jack,‍⁠ dressed cleanly, held​ a short sword​‍⁠ that looked like​ a knife in‍​ one hand and‌ a hook in​⁠ the other as​⁠ he looked at‌⁠ Vlad.

“Although‍ I didn’t want​‍‌ to leave you⁠‍‌ alone, I’m someone​ who always finishes​‌​ what he starts.”​

An‍ intertwined fate. A world devouring its​ own world.

But⁠⁠ the Jack One-Armed​‌ that Vlad found‌‍ in front of​​⁠ him didn’t seem⁠‌‌ to have the​ presence that the​ young man was​⁠ looking at right​​ now.

Though‌‌ he had also​⁠⁠ fallen, the young​‍​ man’s world had‌ expanded so much⁠‍‌ as to explain⁠‍‍ that downfall.

Jack‍ One-Armed’s world could​ no longer contain⁠‍ the young man.⁠

“I’ll‍ do it.”

Though⁠‍ he was someone‌‌‍ like a mortal⁠ enemy, Vlad decided⁠‌ to show the⁠‍‌ last respect to‌​ Jack One-Armed.

Clang!‌⁠

Though‍ it was a rough gesture like​ that of an⁠​ alleyway, it was‌‌‍ a courtesy.

“Ugh!”​‍‍

Jack⁠‌⁠ crossed his sword​⁠ and hook to⁠⁠ block Vlad’s sword.‌⁠

He‍‍⁠ thought he should‍ do something like‌‍‍ this to block‌⁠​ it, but Vlad’s⁠ strength that he‍‍‍ faced head-on easily‌‍ exceeded his expectations.‌‍​

“That’s⁠‍ it! You’ve come​⁠ this far already!”⁠‌‍

Jack⁠‌ was sincerely impressed‌ seeing the boy’s‌‌ growth.

Jack⁠‍ also had dreams.​ He too was‌‌ a man who​‍‍ had stars in‌ his heart, though‍‌‍ in a different‌⁠​ way. That’s why‍⁠ he could understand‌​​ the hardships the⁠ boy had faced.​⁠​

“Impressive!”‍⁠‌

Sparks‍​ flew as the‌‍​ swords clashed.

The⁠⁠ young man fought⁠ desperately against the​ world that had‌ bound him for‍‍ so long. He⁠​ knew he could‌ no longer be‌ trapped by Jack’s⁠ world.

“Ugh!”‍

Jack​‌ did his best⁠‍⁠ to withstand the‍‍‌ young man’s sword.‌‍ He might stagger,‍‌ he might seem‌ pathetic, but perhaps‌ that was the‌ last appearance and⁠‌ choice he could⁠‍​ make.

“Jorge⁠‍​ would be happy⁠ to see you!”‍

“Shut‍‍ up!”

Vlad⁠‌ fiercely shouted at⁠⁠​ Jack for daring​‍⁠ to mention Jorge​ in a conversation​⁠‍ about revenge.

He​ was someone who​​‍ couldn’t be forgiven.​⁠​ He had helped‌ kill Jorge and‌ had sold Marcella​ after swallowing the‌​⁠ broken smile of⁠​ a rose.

You⁠ should die miserably.‌

“Ugh!‌​⁠ Ugh!”

Between‍ pain, regret, disillusionment,⁠‌ and calmness, Jack‍​‌ swung his hook⁠ with his left‍‍‌ arm.

The‍‍ dagger he held‍ was already rolling⁠‍‍ on the ground​⁠‍ along with his‍​ right arm. He​⁠​ knew this day‍ would come eventually.‍⁠

He⁠‍ had simply lived​ intensely believing that‍ today wouldn’t be‌‍ the last day.⁠‌

“I‌‌ guess it’s better‌ this way!”

Jack‍ One-Armed sincerely thought.⁠​

It‌ would be better​​‌ to die crushed⁠ by a young‌​ world trying to​⁠ climb over him‌‍‍ than to die⁠ crushed by a big world like⁠‌ Jorge.

If​‍​ his life was‍⁠ going to end​ like this anyway,​‌‌ he wanted it‌‌‌ to end by​ his own choice.​‍‍

“You’ll⁠‌ climb higher than‌ me!”

“Shut‌‌‍ up!”

The‌ boy, still not​​⁠ mature enough to‌​‍ understand what Jack‌⁠ was saying, just‍ struck out in​⁠⁠ rage.

“Ugh!”⁠⁠‌

But​⁠‌ the boy’s heart‍‍‍ might be hot,‍ but the sword‌ in his hand⁠⁠ was cold.

A shiver ran through⁠‍ Jack’s bowels and‍‌ up his spine.​⁠

Crimson⁠‍‌ drops of blood‍​ dripped from the⁠⁠ bloody tip of​‌‌ the sword.

Truly‍‍ free, free from​ the shackles that⁠⁠‍ bound him.

“Any‌ last words?”

The​​ boy was panting.‌

Seeing⁠​‍ that the boy​‍ had crawled this‌‌ far with all​⁠ his might, Jack‌​ silently raised his​‍‌ hook and gestured​⁠⁠ towards where he‍​ had been sitting.​

“…Rest.‍‍‌ You did a good job.”

“…What?”​

With‌‍⁠ unknown words, step​​ by step, slowly⁠ retreating, Jack One-Armed⁠​‍ withdraws the sword‍ from Vlad.

“Ugh!”​‌

Despite​‌ the pain of‍​ his entrails being⁠⁠ ripped out, he‌‌‌ stood up with‌‌ difficulty and stepped⁠‌ back towards the​ railing.

“······This​ should be enough.”‌

Jack‌​ sighed and looked‌‌ up at the‌ ceiling.

Looking‌ at the lights⁠​ passing through the‌‌ splendid chandelier, he​‌ reflected on his⁠​ life.

“This​‍ should be enough.”​‍

He​​⁠ was satisfied.

Although‍‍‌ he lived poorly,‌ his life was‌​‌ tough.

Even​⁠⁠ though he was‌ ultimately crushed by‌​‍ a vast world​⁠ and left shattered,‌‍‍ it wasn’t solely​ his fault.

“·····.”‌​

For‍⁠‍ the last time,‍ Jack shouted to‌ the building he‌‍ could never have.‍⁠

“I‍⁠⁠ had fun. Goodbye,⁠⁠‌ Jorge!”

Vlad‍​‌ watched as Jack‌⁠​ slowly fell backward.‌​⁠

Passing​‍ through the railing‌⁠ to the lobby.​​

He‍​⁠ observed Jack’s last​ appearance as he‍⁠⁠ fell from the⁠​​ fourth floor to‌​ the first.

¡BANG!​⁠‌

A world collapsing, like​ Jorge’s that day.⁠

In‌ the silence that‌‌‍ was like death,​ only the falling‍‍ drops of blood​ showed the passage‌‍‌ of time.

“…”‌⁠

Revenge‌‌⁠ is sweet.

It’s‌‍‍ something that must‌​⁠ be done.

But⁠ there was a bitter taste that‍ the boy couldn’t​ shake on the‍ tip of his‍ tongue.

Having‌ done all he‍ had to do,​‌‌ Vlad now, with​ weary steps, headed⁠​ towards the table‌‍ where Jack had‌‍ been sitting.

“···Damn​⁠⁠ it.”

There‍ were two glasses​ of alcohol waiting​‍ for the boy.‌​‍

With‌ his head bowed,‌ the boy sat​‍ in the chair.⁠

“…I’ll​ pay you back,‌⁠​ boss.”

And‌ a single shiny⁠ gold coin.

The⁠ boy returned the⁠ gold coin that‌​​ Jack One-Armed had​⁠​ given him that⁠ day.

Because‍ a knight should‍​ only take what‌ is rightfully his.​

This‍​​ was the place‍‍ of the broken‍ smile of a rose.

A place where people​⁠ paused for a moment as they‍ passed by.

A single drop of‌ water that had‍⁠ been held there​​‌ escaped into the‌ outside world.

Leaving⁠‌​ a small footprint‍‌ of the young‌⁠ man’s world.

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