Bailonz Street 13

Chapter 169. The Other Side (1)

The man kept his mouth shut. But sometimes silence is equivalent to affirmation.

“It was quite good as a silencing method. But I don’t understand why Hans had to die.”

“Because he was stealing.”

The voice was gruff. His speech carried a thick accent. The man, speaking for the first time since boarding the transport carriage, twisted his lips into a smile.

“He tried to sneak some brat out of here. Kids we bring in at high prices need to be sold at high prices. What happens if one gets taken away? Creates a hole in the ledger, doesn’t it?”

“And?”

“As luck would have it, some professor had reserved to buy it next month, and he’s a real sucker. Pays whatever we ask, even multiple times the price. Can’t have such valuable merchandise disappearing. So the Mister personally gave the order.”

It seems Peter was also destined to be sold to Rick Sloughton. And Hans had planned to sneak him away. Unexpectedly. But why then try to kill Peter after attempting to save him?

“Either kill the brat yourself, or let the Mister personally deliver punishment. Anyone in their right mind would have killed with their own hands.”

Then he cackled. Watching laughter spill through his yellowed teeth, I felt my temper rise and couldn’t help but kick him. Even after being kicked, the man continued laughing for a while before finally quieting down.

“We’ve arrived.”

The door opened and officers dragged the two men out.

Normally they would be held in detention while awaiting investigation results. However, since these individuals were involved in extremely serious matters, they decided to isolate them in a safe house known only to investigation officials.

“Mr. Moore, take it easy. Dig too deep and you won’t be able to live peacefully.”

“I’ll handle my own business.”

“As an example, the woman beside you…”

Me?

“…has family. I hear she treasures her younger brother? Word’s already spread after you hit Bernard. Would she help you if we held her brother hostage? Women are selfish creatures.”

“Did someone stuff a sock in…”

Wow, 19th century thinking really stinks. Those outdated remarks left me momentarily speechless.

I stared at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter. My laughter echoed through the quiet night streets. The man furrowed his brow at me laughing at his hostage threat. He looked at me like I was a madwoman.

But it’s funny.

“Who could take whom hostage? You people? Jonathan?”

These idiots who don’t even know what lives on Minette Avenue?

I could guess what had happened to people who tried to attack that house. Never before had a kidnapping threat worried me so little. There was no way ordinary humans could lay a finger on Jonathan Osmond, who was under Plurititas’s protection.

“Let’s make a bet.”

“W-what…”

“Whether it’ll be my brother who dies, or your group who raids there.”

After finishing, I gave a nod. Jefferson’s subordinate officers took the two men and disappeared into the house. Inspector Jefferson came over and watched my expression.

“Perhaps we should send officers even now…”

“No.”

There really was no need. I answered lightly.

“Jonathan will be fine. Let’s just finish this business.”

* * *

What followed was relatively simple.

Many high-ranking individuals were involved, and some were caught in the act. You might consider it an unsatisfactory conclusion. After all, what follows is work for the police, not private detectives.

We nearly lost the ledger at one point.

We had planned to reveal everything on the day parliament met. The high officials who couldn’t escape the sudden exposure, and all the Lords and Commons who heard the testimony would be witnesses. If only we knew, we might be silenced, but as the number of people who know increases, the evidence becomes more solid. After all, they couldn’t kill and dispose of everyone.

Detective Brixon was attacked while taking the ledger to parliament. Probably someone whose name in that ledger absolutely couldn’t be revealed had made their move.

Fortunately, though, Henry Brixon was bait. With the attack, the stationed officers moved in, allowing him to emerge unscathed. This part was Liam’s suggestion, and we were grateful the opposition moved exactly as he predicted.

In any case, with the Metropolitan Police’s cooperation, the ledger was successfully made public. The person who had been developing new drugs using children, experimenting, and trying to thin out the Lords and Commons by distributing them as painkillers was captured and dragged away. The sentence will probably be carried out in a few days.

Thanks to crediting all the achievements to Jefferson, he received a medal. And a promotion. Being a medal recipient now, no one can easily touch Jefferson anymore. Like Old Paradise, the number of cases left unsolved and covered up should decrease.

A major inspection of orphanages began, and those where abuse and neglect occurred in secret were cleaned up. Children should be able to live more safely now.

Though the 19th century is still barbaric, it will eventually catch up to the 21st. Knowing it can change gives us hope.

Rick Sloughton was executed. The children he purchased are receiving intensive care at treatment facilities.

Reading a letter containing such news carefully by the fireplace, Liam spoke with a bright face.

“That worked out well.”

Yes, it did work out well. At least we managed to close one opium den that wielded enormous influence in London.

We’re in Hisford for the wedding. This is my old room. I was sitting in Liam’s lap, and he was resting his chin on my shoulder, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace.

“It’s a shame though. The medal would have suited you well.”

“What use would I have for such a thing?”

Liam Moore giggled. My gaze turned to Liam’s arm. It was wrapped in bandages.

What we thought was just a graze had actually penetrated the skin. Fortunately the bone was unharmed, but between driving the carriage with that arm and being too busy handling the aftermath of the case, healing was delayed. It was fortunate that Jefferson belatedly discovered his blood-soaked arm. Otherwise, he might never have been able to use that arm again.

How vexing. He’d stood firm in front of it, worried I might get hit if he dodged.

I know too. How much Liam fears me holding a gun. How he startles at the mere sound of a gun being aimed, looks at me, checking where I’m pointing the barrel.

I couldn’t help but know.

This man’s fears always reach out to me. Even while walking together, he anxiously pulls me into his arms, checks behind us repeatedly, and verifies my breathing every morning when he opens his eyes.

Sometimes I think I’ve ruined Liam Moore.

I hadn’t meant to. I was just scared of you, and wanted to know who I was. Why I came here, and if there was a reason, I wanted to go home… When Liam Moore settled into the life I was enduring with such wishes, I had to accept my new life.

That the woman who lived in South Korea was gone now. That this man was my new life.

My breath felt cold. Fortunately I was turned away. So Liam Moore couldn’t see my expression. So the heat from the fireplace could dry my eyes.

I deliberately kept my gaze distant as I scolded Liam.

“Planning to wear bandages even at the wedding.”

“Sorry. I’m an inadequate husband, but please bear with me.”

Liam Moore’s heartbeat transmitted through my back. Slow but very strong. He’s alive. How strange it seemed now, those days when he spoke like a machine. Would I have believed it if someone told me last November, ‘You’ll marry Liam’?

‘I would have thought they were crazy.’

The thought made me laugh softly. Liam held me as I laughed, not knowing why. Then he laughed quietly along with me. You fool, why are you laughing just because I am?

“Do you know what I’m thinking about laughing?”

Thump, thump. I couldn’t tell if this sound was from Liam’s heart or mine.

If you were me?

What would you have done?

Suddenly, I wanted to ask the Liam Moore who had glared at me on the train demanding ‘Who are you?’ If someone had told you then that you would soon fall in love with the person before you, what expression would you have made?

But none of this happened, and we wouldn’t have known the future then. What will happen will happen. You will love me. Like fate.

Liam answered.

“Well, perhaps you’re regretting choosing to marry London’s thug.”

“So you knew you were a thug.”

“I just need to be pretty and well-behaved in front of you.”

That’s true. I turned and lightly kissed my thug husband’s cheek. His ears immediately turned bright red. It gradually spread to his neck and face. Like spilled paint, all at once.

I whispered.

“Did I ever tell you?”

The man exhaled tremulously. The arms holding me went limp. When I pressed down on his shoulders, that firm body fell back without any resistance. He wouldn’t be wary of anything I might do. A man who would believe that even if I drew a gun right now, I would aim it at an attacker. His eyes, full of trust, sparkled with affection as they looked at me.

The man’s black hair scattered across the carpet. The firelight reflecting off it made it look very beautiful.

Seeing his face unable to guess what I would say next suddenly made me want to tease him.

“William Moore.”

Now a ring glitters on my finger. I’ve removed everything else. After I return this body to Jane, it will be a ring without an owner… but that’s alright. My hand traced from Liam’s shoulder down to his lower abdomen.

TL COMMENT: at last… after 169 chapters…. They did it.