Misfortune 135

Chapter 135

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"You want me to change that monster's clothes?!"

The military doctor, saddled with this absurd task, sighed so deeply the ground seemed to swallow him.

He waved his hands in refusal, insisting it was impossible, but it was futile. Word had already spread that he had subdued Roan Barthez. In truth, it was merely a matter of administering a potent sedative.

Either way, because of that, the doctor found himself thrown back into the tiger's den like a helpless rabbit.

What's more, the ship carrying Roan Barthez was scheduled to be handed over to Brunois in its entirety the moment the hostage negotiations concluded. Meaning it was so old it wouldn't be surprising if it sank at any moment.

Consequently, everyone avoided boarding it. Only a few unlucky soldiers were standing watch on deck. That was why he found himself alone again in this suffocating, cramped room.

"Still out of it, I suppose………………?"

Fortunately, Roan Barthez remained slumped over, unchanged from before departure. His stillness as footsteps drew near suggested the drug's effects were still active.

But there was no room for complacency. The doctor shuddered violently, recalling Roan Barthez's frantic, rat-poisoned dog-like convulsions.

Facing that sight again was far worse than quickly finishing him off and getting out—a thousand times the better choice.

Summoning his courage, the doctor tapped Roan's calf lightly with his toe. As expected, there was no response. His tightly closed eyelids remained unchanged.

"I'm just trying to change your clothes. I'm definitely not attacking you."

Repeating the same words like a mantra, just in case he woke up, the doctor pulled down the iron chain hanging from the ceiling.

Fortunately, Roan Barthez remained unconscious, forcing the doctor to fully support his massive frame. The doctor’s hands trembled violently as he gritted his teeth.

"Ugh……………"

After barely managing to lay Roan on the floor, the doctor wiped the sweat from his forehead with his still-shaking arm.

But one hurdle led to another; another challenge awaited him.

"How the hell am I supposed to get this off………………."

To put on his shirt, he first had to unlock the handcuffs restraining his wrists.

But actually supporting this massive body made him feel utterly incapable. He instinctively knew that if Roan regained consciousness, he would never be able to subdue him.

"Do I really have to dress him?"

The doctor muttered to himself. It seemed unlikely anyone would come to check anyway. Should he just lie and say he dressed him?

He hesitated, the key held up to the handcuff hole.

Suddenly, the cabin lurched violently, as if the earth itself shook. Startled, the doctor threw himself flat on the floor and looked around frantically.

"Wh-what's happening………………"

Pressed against the floor, he heard an explosion-like boom followed by the sound of water sloshing. Simultaneously, the ship lurched violently again, triggering nausea.

"Attack! Brunois!"

Someone shouted from the deck. But his dizzy head couldn't process the words immediately.

An attack? But the hostage is still here. How?

"Guh!"

In that instant, something cold wrapped around his neck, clamping down on his windpipe.

The doctor thrashed, jerking his head back. He met the piercing blue eyes staring at him like prey.

"If you don't want to die, untie this immediately."

Roan stared impassively down at the military doctor, his neck constricted by the iron chain, and threatened him in a low voice.

He had intended to move the moment the handcuffs were released, but the doctor's sluggish reaction had cost him the opportunity. The timing had been poor, too.

Still, subduing one clumsy military doctor was hardly a challenge for him.

Feeling his life threatened, the doctor turned the key dangling from the end of the handcuff hole with trembling hands.

Roan casually rotated his finally freed wrist. His joints ached, but they were still usable.

After roughly assessing his physical condition, he lowered his gaze toward the doctor once more. His tear- and snot-streaked face held a glimmer of hope that obeying orders would soon secure his release. A naive delusion, though.

"Gah, wh-what...?"

Roan searched the doctor's waistband. He found and grabbed a loaded musket, then rose to his feet. His arm wrapped around the doctor's neck instead of chains.

Casually ignoring the doctor's struggling movements, he scanned his surroundings. Hoping to find the letter that had been taken from him. But it was nowhere to be seen.

Roan would never know Delnia's true intent in sending the pressed flower.

Therefore, he could not die.

If she still had something left to tell him, he dared not die until he had confirmed it all. That was the law of the newly restructured world of Roan Barthez.

Steeling his resolve, Roan retrieved even the short dagger from the medical bag before stepping out of the secret chamber.

At that very moment, footsteps above grew closer.

"I never thought those Brunois bastards would abandon Roan Barthez...!"

"Even if I die, I'll drive a bullet into that son of a bitch's forehead!"

Hearing the furious voice, Roan estimated the number of approaching footsteps.

Judging by the lack of commotion, it seemed the ones who could escape had already been sent away. Only the foolish bastards who didn't know the value of their own lives remained.

Nothing was easier to handle than an opponent who'd lost his mind to rage. Plus, he had a hostage.

Roan dragged the struggling medic up the stairs without hesitation.

"Wh-when did this bastard get released?"

A soldier running down the stairs spotted him and shouted. Those words became the soldier's last.

The soldier, a bullet piercing his chest, collapsed instantly. Before he rolled down the stairs, Roan swiftly snatched the musket and fired at the legs of another soldier following behind.

"Aaah!"

Roan grabbed the ankle of the soldier who collapsed, then brutally smashed the butt of the gun into the soldier's head. Then, discarding the useless weapon, he picked up a fresh firearm.

Footsteps thundered overhead once more. As the sounds receded, Roan climbed the remaining stairs instead of retreating.

Emerging onto the deck, the ship lurched violently as cannonballs exploded. Steeling his staggering legs, Roan scanned the surroundings rapidly.

The state of the ship, alone on the vast ocean, was dire. The mast, hit by cannon fire, had snapped, causing part of the hull to collapse. One side of the deck was engulfed in flames, spewing black smoke.

Soldiers scrambling to squeeze into lifeboats to escape the sinking ship lost their balance and tumbled down in a heap.

Behind that hellish scene, a familiar flag fluttered atop the advancing warship.

"There! It's Roan Barthez!"

At that moment, a soldier clinging to the railings spotted him and shouted hoarsely. The gazes of the officers and men crowded along the escape route instantly fixed on him.

Roan lowered his head, staring into the eyes glinting with hostility.

Some seized the moment to scramble onto the lifeboat, but others turned toward Roan. As if slaughtering him mattered more than fleeing.

Roan kept watch behind him, thrusting the hostage forward like a shield. But it was useless. They didn't lower their guns, even seeing their own comrades.

"Don't shoot! I said don't shoot, you bastards!"

As the doctor, who had nearly been shot in the foot, screamed in rage, foaming at the mouth, Roan's gun barrel spat fire once more. Simultaneously, the giant who had been aiming a matchlock from the bow plunged straight into the sea.

Having thrown his spent weapon at the soldier's head with deadly accuracy, Roan charged relentlessly toward the bow. The soldiers, blinded by vengeance, pursued him. The deafening roar of gunfire made his ears ring.

Suddenly, his left calf began to burn, then blazed like it was on fire. A bullet had grazed him.

Yet Roan kept moving forward. He advanced until he could advance no further. His vision blurred and his breath came in gasps, but he dragged his feet forward, refusing to stop.

"No matter how much you struggle, this is as far as you go, you damn bastard!"

"I'll kill you in the most miserable way possible, so you better brace yourself!"

Roan glanced sideways at the ship's railing, wary of the gun barrels too busy yelling threats to properly hit their target.

Being out at sea, the only escape was the lifeboat, and even that seemed difficult to reach through this crowd.

A fierce wind suddenly swept into his despairing world, where he couldn't find a way back to her. The salty wind pushed him backward.

"Ugh!"

The soldiers surrounding him on the opposite side also couldn't open their eyes against the sudden sea wind, shielding their faces with their arms.

In that moment, Roan turned his blurring vision toward the sea. A crimson stain flickered atop the deep blue, churning waves. It was the blood of a soldier shot and fallen into the sea.

But to Roan's eyes, it resembled the red artificial flower that had once drifted upon the waves.

The flower that had adorned the hair of a woman so beautiful she was etched into his memory. That red petal, torn from the woman swallowed by the sea, drifting alone across the ocean.

A strange gleam flashed in his eyes as he recalled the moment he found her in the sea he had plunged into recklessly.

Ah.

There it was.

As if bewitched by the sea witch, the strength drained from his hands. The moment the hostage was freed, the enemy's trigger finger pulled once more.

The azure waves swallowed his collapsing body whole.