Bailonz Street 13

I buried my face in my hands and muttered weakly, “You guys are really annoying…”

“It’s a fine day, isn’t it? You should lighten up.”

“You’re the most annoying one here.”

Plurititas feigned exaggerated sadness. That annoyed me too.

“What about me, sis?”

Jonathan asked cluelessly from beside me.

“You’re annoying too…”

Jonathan’s eyebrows drooped, a shocked expression on his face. Did he really think bringing his boss to our meal would earn him brownie points?

A plate of meat was placed in front of me. Plurititas winked at me.

“I’m treating you to dinner today.”

Huh? Why?

“Why are you joining me and my brother for dinner?”

“Because I asked my bodyguard to work overtime?”

Jonathan picked up a meat knife with a grin at Plurititas’s words. They seemed quite close. When did they get so friendly? I knew Jonathan was good at making friends, but…

“He even got me a suit, and now dinner? That’s a lot of spending, sir.”

Huh… Huh…

“You can call me by my name.”

Huh…

Plurititas being so kind and my brother calling him ‘sir’ were both equally shocking to me.

“Mr. Plurititas, you got him a suit? A suit I couldn’t even afford to buy for him? You?”

I had been cautious to avoid any contact that might be discovered by that person, knowing they would cause trouble. And in the meantime, he swooped in? My temples throbbed.

“It was a gift for joining. I can’t have someone working at my place wearing just anything.”

Why do people like Lucita and Plurititas all have this habit of spending money like water? I sighed, pressing my forehead against the wave of headaches.

Now that I think about it, Lucita didn’t seem entirely human. Those snake-like pupils… What was she? A demon, maybe? She did like making deals, after all. She might really be a demon.

Worries about my brother, Liam Moore, and Owen Cassfire… Plurititas constantly talking… And the missing bodies and coffins filled only with dirt… The strange burrow…

I couldn’t tell if the food was going into my nose or my mouth. Honestly, I was just shoving it in without much thought.

Dinner ended like that.

After a course meal that stretched past 9 PM, I walked out of the Langham Hotel, drenched in fatigue. At least I could walk out on my own two feet. I had worried about crawling out.

“Your brother-in-law is a really good person.”

Owen Cassfire whispered. I smiled.

“Isn’t he, Mr. Cassfire?”

“You used to call me Owen just fine! He’s polite, competent, and looks strong too.”

“He was a policeman.”

That ended our conversation. I quietly looked at the approaching carriage, pressing my hat down.

Plurititas was talking with Jonathan a few steps down the stairs. When he saw me, he smiled. A hand on my shoulder pulled me protectively inward. It was Liam Moore. Under the white moonlight, he gleaned ominously, terribly. In contrast, a dark figure enveloped me, looking down.

Plurititas’s shadow seemed as large as ever. Yet it did nothing to us. It merely shifted its gaze back to Jonathan. Did Jonathan see that? Did he know and still stay with him?

“I’m worried about Jonathan.”

“He’ll be fine.”

Liam patted my shoulder. The warmth loosened the tension that could have been either from cold or nerves.

“Plurititas isn’t that foolish.”

“That’s the problem. You can’t predict what he’ll do.”

That’s true. Liam muttered, smiling wryly.

“Your brother must be worrying like this too?”

“Oh, definitely. He probably thinks you ruined my marriage.”

“Haha!”

Liam burst out laughing and shouted loudly, “Brother-in-law!”

My head throbbed. Madman. Please.

My brother rummaged through his coat, as if looking for a gun. Realising he had returned his holster with his resignation letter, he cursed.

“Damn you, Liam Moore! Call me that one more time, and I’ll kill you—!”

Owen whistled.

I thought, ‘If I push these two down the stairs, would they die?’

＊ ＊ ＊

When I got home, there wasn’t much time left until Christmas ended. Liam moved his hands regretfully. I felt the same.

We should have been at Hisford. I thought we could spend time together, but other people barged in and ruined the day. We even had to catch ghouls set up in a large underground area in London.

“This is the worst Christmas. The worst in my 30 years.”

I threw my coat anywhere and muttered wearily. Liam smiled bashfully. I knew it when he started chugging wine on an empty stomach. His cheeks were flushed red.

“I liked it.”

“Really?”

Hmm. He answered in a resonant voice, extending a hand. My back hit the wall.

“There’s no sea, no fancy lights. I can’t ask for more than this, right?”

Looking up at his over-six-foot frame hurt my neck. Noticing this, Liam Moore wrapped his arm around my waist. My view shifted upward. Now Liam Moore was a few inches below me. Skillfully, he lifted me with one arm. Then, stretching out the other arm…

“Not just lacking conscience, but patience too, little Moore.”

Fingers slipped between the gaps of his gloves. The man with flushed ears whispered.

“We couldn’t spend Christmas together.”

“It’s not over yet.”

The hand removing the glove paused. A few strands of black hair fell onto his forehead as he opened his eyes wide.

“It’s still Christmas. It’s not the 26th yet.”

He bent down. The smell of alcohol and a faint grape scent wafted from him. He had turned into an alcohol man, having only drunk wine the whole meal.

Liam Schofield Moore closed his eyes like a girl about to have her first kiss. His flushed face was exasperatingly fitting. Unable to hold back, I lightly tapped his cheek.

“Touching a drunk without their consent is a crime, what do you think, Scotland Yard’s top consulting detective?”

“I don’t mind…”

Hey. I laughed at his demure answer, which made him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

I had nothing to say to his response. Leaning down, I lightly touched his forehead. When I placed a hand on his cheek, his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.

He opened his eyes slightly when I remained still. His dense eyelashes lifted, revealing his eyes. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I wanted to see Liam Moore’s eyes widen.

A wet sound briefly grazed and parted. I lightly pressed against his lips, whispering. Liam.

“Truly, Merry Christmas.”

With about two hours left, that should be safe enough.

Liam Moore smiled, his eyes crinkling. His narrowed eyes were irresistibly adorable.

“If I said this was the best Christmas of my life, would you be offended?”

“Of course not.”

“Next Christmas will be even better.”

I’m looking forward to that. He carefully set me down.

＊ ＊ ＊

There was nothing more. As sensible adults aware of our bodies’ limits, we returned to our own rooms without any regrets. I took out my notebook and recorded the day’s events…

…

“Next year?”

I murmured blankly.

Next year?

It felt like waking up from a dream. The illusion shattered. Someone poured cold water on my dazed mind.

I barely retrieved the truth that had sunk into the recesses of my mind.

“This isn’t right.”

It’s December 25th now.

I’ve been here for over a month. There’s still no way to return. This isn’t where I belong.

I couldn’t face the New Year here. But there was no way out. Even though I knew I was completely… becoming a part of this place, I couldn’t see any way to endure.

“I’m not Jane…”

I’m not Jane, not Liam Moore’s detective lady, not Jonathan’s sister.

I don’t have a brother. I’m an only child. I went to university, and did I finish the semester? Graduate?

I hurriedly flipped through my notebook. My records were fading. Things I liked, might have liked, perhaps once loved. My memories.

“No, no, no, this isn’t right…”

My shoulders shook as if I was having a seizure. My breathing was laboured. Tears welled up, and my hands grew cold. Instinctively, I gripped the pen, scribbling over the letters.

I’m Korean, from the 21st century, and this is a game,

“…Mom.”

Mom.

Tears fell. Mom, your daughter’s life is ruined. What is this? Am I supposed to live as a 19th-century Londoner forever? That’s insane.

A strange woman stared back at me from the mirror. Her face blurred with tears, and her green eyes filled with fear.

Is this really me now?