HTBOABDWAV – 2

The sharp, acrid smell snapped Jeryll back to herself, and she wriggled out of his vice-like grip.

‘What is this—am I some kind of flame for moths? Why does someone always drop dead in front of me?’

At this point, it was beyond traumatic.

Not that she felt much pity for the dead. They were usually murderers or just plain scum.

“Thank you for sav—…”

“Tsk.”

She was just about to thank her savior. But was that a ‘Tsk’?

The man pushed past her flustered self, flipped the corpse over like a sack of flour, and muttered under his breath.

“That son-of-a-b*tch Emperor is going to throw a f*cking fit again. What a pain.”

She didn’t catch everything, but the glare he shot Jeryl way wasn’t exactly warm.

Not that it mattered—something else had caught her eye.

‘What’s going on with his Karma gauge?’

[Karma: ▒▒]

The space above his head was blurry, like someone had smeared the air. She’d never seen anything like it.

Someone whose Karma didn’t display?

“You look like a noble. Don’t go around hassling people—take a knight with you when you’re out late.”

“What’s your problem?”

“What?”

Oops.

Flustered, Jeryll clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. The man sent her a scorching glare.

He frowned like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, then looked away, like talking to her was more trouble than it was worth.

‘Still, he saved my life. I can’t just let him walk away like that!’

Jeryll, who had once been deeply impacted by the story of ‘The Swallow Who Repaid Kindness’, quickly moved to speak.

“Haha, no, I didn’t mean… Anyway! Thank you for saving me! I’m Jeryll, of the Rubian Marquessate. If you’d like a reward—”

His head whipped around. Maybe it was her imagination, but the sharpness in his violent aura seemed to have intensified.

“…the Rubian Marquessate?”

“Yes!”

“Jeryll Rubian?”

Nod, nod.

He strode up to the nodding Jeryll. A shadow fell over her; he had to be well over six feet tall.

A gauging, appraising look met the bright, grateful eyes of the woman whose life he’d saved.

Then, his lips curved into a broad smile.

Had his butler seen it, he would’ve sighed, ‘Damn, the master’s about to cause trouble again.’

“I’m Cari—no, just call me Car. You mentioned a reward?”

“Yes! You saved my life, after all. Although you were a bit… intense…”

Like a predator who’d cornered his prey, he gave a savage grin.

To the swallow who only meant to repay kindness with a gourd seed, it was like a bolt from the blue.

“There is one thing I’d like in return.”

“What is it?”

“I’m new to the Empire. Haven’t had time to get my bearings of the Capital. Could you show me around?”

Oh, he’s a foreigner!

Jeryll, forgetting to check my brain, simply nodded.

“Good. Then let’s meet tomorrow at the café by the square. I’ll send a letter with the exact time.”

“Okay! Leave it to me. But… is that really all you want?”

Holstering a sleek, silver pistol, the man smiled like a well-fed predator.

“That’s all.”

***

Long story short, Jeryll got stood up.

“My lady! Didn’t you say you had plans this evening?”

“Uh… I did, but, then this happened.”

Of all days, it had to rain. Jeryll shook herself off, soaked and confused.

‘Did I mix up the time?’

But the letter she’d received that morning clearly said <At the café by the square at 6 p.m. today>.

Flicking the innocent letter, a familiar scent wafted up.

‘It smells like a pile of fallen leaves…’

She wrinkled her nose, but no explanation came. Giving up, Jeryll returned to the real issue.

‘Did something happen to Car? He said he was new here—maybe he got lost.’

Worry clouding her blue eyes, Jeryll picked up a pen.

To Car.
Hello, I’m the swallow you saved yester—

Jeryll scratched out the word ‘swallow’ hard enough to rip the paper and continued writing.

This is Jeryll Rubian, the person you saved yesterday. I’m writing because you didn’t show for our meeting today, and I’m concerned. Did something happen? If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.

Jeryll handed the letter to Bell, thinking nothing of it.

Maybe he forgot. Maybe something came up.

The next morning, a reply came from Car.

Dear Lady Rubian.
I had some circumstances yesterday and couldn’t make it. I regret making you wait for nothing. As an apology, I’d like to treat you to dinner—how about meeting at 6 p.m. today by the fountain in the square?

So there was a reason after all!

Relieved, Jeryll safely tucked away the touring list she’d prepared—as any proper guide would—and headed out.

In the end, she got stood up again.

Alone in front of the fountain, she looked downright pitiful.

‘…What’s this bastard’s problem?’

At this point, she was starting to get pissed.

Funny enough, she almost understood how Grand Duke Leppert felt…

Muttering at the sunset, Jeryll suddenly realized—

‘Come to think of it, the Grand Duke hasn’t sent any letters since then.’

She’d expected the letter-bombing to resume after the terrifying <YOU.> incident, and her face visibly brightened.

‘Did I dodge that death flag?’

Great. She wanted to live a long, boring life.

Jeryll’s gaze drifted to a puddle nearby—left behind from yesterday’s rain.

Her bright mood immediately sank.

As if dreading what she’d see, Jeryll edged toward the puddle and looked down.

[Karma: 50]

Every time she looked in a mirror, the Karma never changed—today was no different.

Since possessing ‘Jeryll Rubian,’ she hadn’t done anything bad.

If anything, guilt from her past had driven her to help others.

‘So this must be my Karma, not Jeryll’s.’

Old memories flickered through her dulled blue eyes.

The reason she’d insisted on working at a children’s clinic, of all places.

[Sis, I like you because you’re my big sister!]

[Sis, why do people call you adopted? What does that mean?]

Screech— Bang!

[Oh… No-no… I’ll save you! Just hang on a little longer, please…]

Her memory cut off with the image of the asphalt turning red.

She stared blankly into the puddle.

“My lady, the sun’s setting. That Car or Curry fellow isn’t coming—should we head back?”

Oh. Right. Car.

Jolted back, Jeryll swept her gaze around the plaza. No sign of black hair and red eyes.

She sighed and turned on her heel.

“Right, let’s go. I give up…”

***

“Your Grace, a letter has arrived from His Majesty the Emperor.”

“Burn it.”

The butler looked at a scowling Car—no, Carian, and grimaced.

“You know, ignoring His Majesty the Emperor’s letters for weeks is a bit…”

“I’ve no desire to waste time on my foolish brother’s imbecilic missives. Burn it. No—bring it here. I’ll burn it myself.”

Carian snatched the letter from the butler’s hands. The golden envelope bloomed with flame.

It was the power of a red mage.

‘What a waste of ability…’

Swallowing tears, the butler muttered inwardly.

Red mages were rare enough as it was, and His Grace was using his gift… like this.

Had the Emperor, who felt inferior to his younger brother, seen it, he would have flown into a rage.

“Any letters from House Rubian?”

“No, Your Grace. Might I suggest… perhaps forgiving Lady Rubian now?”

Carian’s lip twisted, as if he’d heard a joke.

“Enough nonsense. Check again. There should be one.”

Crimson eyes flashed. Just then, a footman came up with a silver tray.

“Your Grace, a letter from the Rubian Marquessate.”

Long, well-cut fingers snapped up the envelope.

To Car.

The handwriting looked practically carved in the paper, like she was good and riled, was a sight to behold.

The whole point of this little ‘blind date’ was to provoke the Emperor, who feared his marriage. But after having been stood up over ten times, he couldn’t help but feel stiff in the neck.

Carian read quickly with a faint sneer.

‘She even ripped the bottom edge of the stationary. She must be livid.’

Smiling, satisfied, he flicked his fingers.

“Butler, write back for me. Something flowery. Tell her to meet me tomorrow at 6 p.m., in front of the museum.”

“…Do you plan on not showing up again, Your Grace?”

The butler gave his master a long-suffering look.

“No. I’ll go this time.”

His red eyes narrowed, gleaming.

“It’s about time I revealed who I am.”

***

“My lady, a letter has come from Curry.”

“It’s not Curry, it’s Car…”

Bell was apparently nursing a grudge against the foreigner who’d dared stand her lady up.

Fresh from bed, Jeryll picked up the envelope. A faint smell of burning lingered.

‘Let’s see what excuse he’s got this time…’

My Dear Lady Rubian.
Good day to you; the spring sun is bright and the birds are singing. I hope you had pleasant dreams last night. I humbly ask that you forgive my conduct yester—

Huh?

The letter had suddenly turned stiff and absurdly formal, stuffed with flowery phrases and long-winded apologies.

The butler’s desperate attempt to polish his master’s dog-like manners.

Jeryll, of course, had no way of knowing that—and fell for it completely.

…And so, would meeting at 6 p.m. today at the museum suit you?

“Will you go?”

“He did save my life. I should show one last bit of goodwill…”

But even a swallow will peck a person when cornered—if he didn’t show this time, she planned to wipe him clean from her mind.

Jeryll set her resolve and stood.

5:30 p.m.

Thirty minutes remained until the end of her shift at the clinic.

“Jeryll, how have you been?”

“Oh, Ian. Long time no see.”

As she was wrapping up, a handsome man with soft brown hair and vivid green eyes approached.

It was Ian, Commander of the First Imperial Knights and heir to the Perschke Ducal House. Their acquaintance had begun years ago, when she had treated him after a bad injury, and had continued ever since.

The strange thing was, in the novel the First Imperial Knight Commander wasn’t Ian.

She remembered the Commander clearly, you don’t forget a second male lead.

‘Well, it’s not a bad change. A change of characters means the story can change. Which means I might be able to dodge that premature-death ending.’

Looking into eyes vivid as fresh paint, Jeryll spoke.

“I’ve been well. Your eyes are especially bright today, Ian. You’re not wearing magic lenses, are you?”

Ian lifted the corner of his mouth without answering.

“Jeryll, would you like to have dinner with me after work?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I have plans today.”

“A date?”

“No, it’s not a date—”

That was when.

“Emergency! Multiple patients with seizures!”

A clinic worker’s urgent shout rang out. Stretchers rolled in one after another.

“It’s that blue rash again.”

“Centered on the respiratory tract, as well?”

“Yes. It’s already the umpteenth time this month…”

Lately, patients kept coming in with the same presentation—

Blue spotting around the nose and mouth, followed by seizures.

Before she could dwell on the oddity, calls for Jeryll came from all sides.

“Miss Jeryll! Over here, please!”

“Here, too!”

Even among common mages, healers were extremely rare, so Jeryll had to run until sweat slicked her feet.

Before she knew it, the hands of the clock pointed to six; she barely had enough eyes for the patients before her.

“Miss Jeryll, one more here!”

And so the clock kept dutifully turning, until it pointed to seven.

***

“Mommy, that man is scary!”

“Shh! Come here! Don’t go near him.”

7:30 p.m.

A man, who had knocked more people out than he’d ever been turned down, stood in the empty square, a predatory smile on his face.

💟 Translator Notes 💟
“은혜 갚은 제비” “The Swallow Who Repaid Kindness” is a classic Korean folktale. Here’s the gist:
A poor old man saves an injured swallow by nursing it back to health.
The swallow later returns with a gourd seed.
The old man plants it, and when it grows, the gourds burst open filled with treasure.
His greedy neighbor, jealous, tries to copy him. He deliberately injures a swallow and “saves” it, hoping for the same reward.
That swallow brings him a gourd seed too, but when it opens, it’s full of monsters and misfortune instead.