I Don't Want To Do a Romantic Comedy With a Villain! - Chapter 26

Episode 26

 

But does she need to know that? It doesn’t seem necessary.

Min-joo avoided his gaze.

Not knowing how Min-joo should sit, she fumbled with outstretched hands to grab Permette’s shoulders. Permette, in turn, grabbed Min-joo’s waist with both hands and turned her around, seating her stably in front of him.

In the blink of an eye, Min-joo, bewildered, found herself sitting in front of Permette.

“Hold onto the reins.”

“I shouldn’t grab the mane?”

“If you want to roll off, you can do that too.”

“Just hold onto the waist?”

Min-joo, bending her small pride, obediently grasped Permette’s waist.

After Permette placed the bag in Min-joo’s lap, he wrapped one hand around her shoulder.

With a large and cool hand on her shoulder, Min-joo looked up at Permette.

Permette gave clear instructions to the escort knight who came to see them off.

“Prepare the lawyer and bring him to court by tomorrow morning. Find out who the presiding judge is in charge of the case, report it, and let Fortis and the others know that the trial will be held tomorrow. Stir things up with provocative content to attract attention.”

“Yes.”

An escort knight doing such a task? When Min-joo tilted her head, Permette pulled her shoulder closer as if releasing a threat.

It seemed as if he was telling her not to pay attention, letting go of the reins.

As Permette pulled the reins straight, the horse began to trot.

The shirt collar fluttered in the wind, and his curly hair danced.

Min-joo held onto his waist, embracing him more closely, stabilizing herself on the swaying horse.

Permette’s waist was firm, perhaps even more than Vehen. Min-joo closed her eyes, feeling the scent lingering on her nose, then opened them.

Why did she feel so comfortable with someone she disliked so much?

Maybe she had grown attached. It’s possible.

Leaving the mansion, they briskly trotted down the paved path.

The air cutting through their cheeks was cool, and the sensation of riding was different from a car. One experiences everything in life.

“But, Permette.”

“Speak, Min-joo.”

“Where are we going?”

She followed without knowing where they were headed.

Permette, with a serious face, looked straight ahead and replied.

“We are going to the newspaper office.”

“All of a sudden?”

“Because we need to capture everyone’s attention from tomorrow morning onward.”

So, did he gather the data? Min-joo looked down at the bag she unknowingly held tightly in her hands.

If the true nature of the gambling den is exposed in detail, it will surely cause a stir. Commoners will be angered by the nobility’s extravagant behavior and spending on entertainment, while the nobles will be furious about being exposed as victims.

Min-joo nodded, thinking that it wasn’t so bad. Despite feeling that her assignment was very flat and lacked coherence, seeing it resolved well made her feel that it was okay after all.

Of course, the content had changed significantly, but it was a doomed piece that she wouldn’t present anywhere.

The streets were crowded, but no one paid attention to Min-joo and Permette. It was still not yet nine in the late evening, and everyone seemed busy living their own lives.

The nobles enjoyed the night streets, while the commoners worked to make a living. A street not much different from reality. People’s lives are all the same, Min-joo leaned her head against Permette’s firm chest.

Permette’s body temperature was quite warm.

“But would they write an article at the newspaper office?”

“They should.”

“Why?”

“Because they can earn money.”

Indeed, it seems that money is everything. If they publish news related to the most talked-about gambling den these days, it will sell like hotcakes. Min-joo understood and nodded.

Turning her head from Permette’s embrace, she looked ahead as numerous buildings seemed to rise and pass by, the palpable speed impressive.

The horse stopped in front of a building with a sign.

Min-joo looked up at the rather sturdy building.

“Wait here.”

“What about me?”

“I’ll go alone, so hold the reins and wait.”

Permette, first landing on the ground with his long legs, grabbed Min-joo’s waist. Min-joo quietly descended following his touch.

“I want to go in too.”

“But I don’t want to show you doing something bad.”

What? Min-joo asked in confusion, but Permette just shrugged his shoulders without answering. 

Surely, he would be threatening them to write the article with the information he brought if they didn’t want to go inside and risk their lives. Or perhaps he might be threatening them with a gun, telling them to write the article quietly If they didn’t want the newspaper to fail. Either way, it was coercion. Permette was that kind of character. She knew very well that he was a character who easily discarded human decency.

Min-joo nodded in approval of Permette’s straightforward answer.

“Honesty is good. Still, I want to go in with you.”

“Why do you like honesty?”

“Then is it okay to lie?”

Permette remained silent, unable to find an answer to Min-joo’s question. While he wouldn’t mind if Vehen lied, imagining Min-joo lying to him made him uncomfortable.

Why? Even though it was just an imagination, he felt a sense of disappointment. To be disappointed means to have expectations, but Permette couldn’t figure out what Min-joo was expecting from him.

“Why do you want to go in together?”

He didn’t know what she was hoping for or why she wanted to be with him. Permette wasn’t someone who could fulfill what Min-joo desired—neither emotional exchange nor status and honor. At most, he could provide information.

Min-joo shrugged with an attitude as if asking the obvious.

“To keep an eye on you so you won’t do anything bad.”

“Why?”

“To protect Permette’s conscience?”

Permette genuinely found it amusing. If he had a conscience, he wouldn’t have killed his family. Even if he did, the guilt would have prevented him from living properly.

“Do you think I have something like that?”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t laugh. To Permette, Min-joo’s trust felt like the language of a devil. Something indescribable, something he couldn’t dare to read, understand, or fathom.

Once discovered, he seemed like a distant existence, as if he would lose his sanity and let go of his mind.

Yet, the twisted desire of a person who wants to invade the forbidden territory made Min-joo strangely curious.

“What’s the reason?”

“Human beings have consciences. I have one, Vehen has one, Ceteran has one too.”

“…Where does such trust come from?”

Min-joo freely mentioned the names of the Duke and the Prince, and Permette didn’t think much about it. However, Min-joo’s attitude, simply believing that he was a good person, made Permette intolerable.

He wanted to grab Min-joo’s shoulders and make some noise. Trash like him who slaughtered a family just for the sake of becoming a noble, who would pull the trigger if Vehen or Ceteran asked, regardless of who the opponent was. And yet, he comfortably stretched out his legs on the bed and slept as if he were a noble.

He wanted Min-joo to recognize him and keep him by her side, but Permette decided to abandon that desire. Min-joo would never understand.

She would never understand what kind of person Permette was, what thoughts he had, and how he lived.

No one would understand Permette.

“Why should you know where that comes from as if it’s something great?”

With Min-joo’s succinct response, Permette’s desire to continue the conversation vanished. What conversation could he have with a girl raised in a flower garden?

“Alright, just wait.”

“Permette, I…”

Min-joo grabbed Permette’s coat, who was about to turn away. Her touch was so timid that it didn’t evoke any feelings. Nevertheless, Permette felt Min-joo and turned his head.

Unexpectedly, Min-joo had a quite serious expression.

“Your sleeves are turning inward; it looks ridiculous. Anyway, I want to be on Permette’s side whenever possible. You can do bad things in places I don’t know. Shoot a gun, hit, threaten, whatever.”

Permette couldn’t fathom what Min-joo wanted to say.

Wants to be on his side.

Just an ordinary commoner without rank, someone from a distant land.

Daring to side with Permette.

“It’s okay to do that. Just keep it from me. But, Permette, I hope you won’t act differently in front of me. I want you to be a good person to me. If someone criticizes you, I can still say that you’re a good person.”

Why? The question came to his mind first. Permette couldn’t define the meaning behind Min-joo’s words.

Wishing for him to be a good person, saying it’s okay to do bad things.

Wanting him to be a good person only to her and expressing a desire to be on his side were beliefs Permette had never experienced.

Why does she trust Permette at all?

Permette had never done anything to earn Min-joo’s trust. If buying a single pair of shoes could lead to this level of trust, Min-joo wouldn’t have harbored such a strong aversion towards him until now.

She believes he has a conscience. It’s enough if he’s a good person only to her.

Min-joo is on Permette’s side.

“…On my side.”

Permette mumbled quietly. The word in his mouth felt overly sweet, making it uncomfortable to utter.

There was no trace of regret in Min-joo’s expression as she looked at him. Despite her black eyes being concealed by long eyelashes, they naturally conveyed that she would trust and support Permette.

Everyone treated Permette the same way—irredeemable trash, heartless and evil. Permette had imagined how his end might be. Whether he would die by the blade of someone seeking revenge, be ambushed upon someone’s request, or die senselessly while carrying out Vehen and Ceteran’s orders, it wouldn’t be a perfectly welcome end.

And when that end came, the reactions of those around him would all be the same. A fitting end for Permette, just a tool—mockery or indifference.

Permette knew how shallow and meaningless the relationships he had established were. 

Vehen is his master, and Ceteran is his superior. Partners, yes, but not close.

Even after living for 17 years, Permette and Vehen would give the same response.

However, after hearing Min-joo’s words—only one person. Min-joo seemed like the only one who might mourn his death.

If he remained a good person to Min-joo.

If that’s the case.

An impulse to cry welled up in him.

“So, I’m telling you to wait here.”

Permette became even more reluctant to incur Min-joo’s hatred.

“But…!”

“I’ll do it in a place where you won’t know. So, please wait here.”

Permette gently took the bag that was nestled in Min-joo’s arms and held the reins in his empty hands. He smiled warmly.

In a world where there were still no light bulbs, his smiling face seemed as if a bright bulb had been turned on. Annoyed, Min-joo tightly closed her eyes.

Damn it. Even with a weak face, he looks good.

While Min-joo had her eyes closed, Permette disappeared into the building.

Min-joo stood on the street, holding only the reins, feeling a bit dazed.

 

* * *

 

“Search every inch!”

Viscount Ziken was not in the gambling hall, and the hastily organized interior was filled with a nobleman bound and cornered, two slaves receiving urgent medical attention, and knights.

Vehen, with a frowning expression, shouted for anyone related to the gambling den to come forward. According to the investigation, there should be a dwelling place for slaves inside the den.

Slaves had no way to leave once brought into the gambling den unless they turned into corpses. 

Vehen anxiously searched the interior with the knights. Ceteran was already a hero of the people. The sight of rescuing even lowly slaves had moved the hearts of the common folk. Whether they would reciprocate the help, only they knew, but they seemed willing.

“My Lord! There’s a door here!”

All eyes turned to the knight’s cry. One revealed door was the gambling gold calculation room, which also served as the waiting room for the slaves. With a mirror covered in posters serving as a door, they discovered evidence of manipulated winnings and clear proof of the outcomes.

The knight pushed aside the mirror that served as the door, revealing a passage. 

“Unbelievable.”

The passage led to a small room without an exit, where the slaves were confined behind iron bars. People were lying down or sitting motionless, tied up like animals in cages.

“How could anyone do such a thing to people…?”

The stench was overwhelming. Unable to bathe properly or eat, they looked emaciated and pathetic, hardly distinguishable from animals.

Vehen signaled the knights. 

“Break the bars. Be careful not to hurt them as much as possible.”

“Yes!”

After breaking the locks and soothing the frightened slaves, they were finally brought out into the open. The onlookers were shocked by the appalling sight, and even Ceteran, who had been prepared for anything, couldn’t find words when faced with such a scene.

He quickly gave orders, recovering his composure. 

“Detain the nobles in the towers and transfer the slaves to the hospital! The remaining knights will search for more evidence and slaves! And arrest Viscount Ziken!”

Though the gambling tokens bore Viscount Ziken’s name, the mastermind behind it was Crown Prince Tedric. If a swift trial could uncover evidence of collusion with Viscount Ziken in his mansion, it would surely pull Tedric down from the position of Crown Prince.

Amidst the chaotic gambling den, Ceteran’s sighs mingled with the air and disappeared without a trace.

 

* * *

 

Standing side by side with the horse, it seems like it at least heard affection. 

Min-joo had even reached the point of giving the horse a name, Petit Gendu, and engaging in conversation with it.

“So, Gendu. Do you think your owner has the personality of a horse?”

“……”

“Yeah. What does a horse know? I must be talking nonsense.”

Her legs were starting to ache. Fortunately, the shoes Permette gave her were soft; otherwise, she might have been sitting on the ground, contemplating her fate by now. She had already contemplated it.

Min-joo looked around, taking in the street scene. Nobles and commoners bustling about their lives. In the alley corners, beggars hide with sharp glares, envious of them. How could such different lives be so intertwined in one space? Min-joo gazed at the alleys with keen interest.

They fought fistfights and shed blood for a piece of bread. Just a piece of bread. And there was no one helping or stopping them. It wasn’t that they were invisible; they knew but didn’t help.

Because they didn’t need help. Nobles were busy enjoying their leisure, and commoners were busy surviving. Even if the public order was good, it only applied to the nobles. Even with a glance around, can’t you see people fighting for a piece of bread?

Min-joo sighed, playing with the reins. 

“I may be incompetent, but who would come here and accomplish anything? I’m just an ordinary college student. It’s amazing to be alive.”

“Give me the money.”

“Gendu, I don’t have any money. Horses don’t need money…”

What is the horse saying? Min-joo admired her rhyme and, feeling a strangeness, looked around.

It was a robber. Is it okay to be so calm? Isn’t this just a suggestion to die? Min-joo laughed ironically at the absurdity of her situation.

If rolling was a skill, she would have won an Olympic gold medal by now. Min-joo held the reins and stepped back.

The robber drew a dagger from his bosom and approached.

Although she had experienced a lot, it wasn’t particularly terrifying for Min-joo, but she felt helpless. If only she had learned taekwondo when she was younger.

Min-joo, who had only soft flesh and lacked even muscles, lamented her useless body that couldn’t even compete in strength.

Min-joo quickly scanned her surroundings. People saw Min-joo in distress, but no one came forward to help the woman who appeared, at most, to be a commoner. Rather, commoners and beggars were carefully observing Min-joo, as if planning to steal her belongings when she fell from her horse.

This was the world. A world where even if you were robbed in the middle of the street, no one would help. Everyone was so concerned about their safety, so desperate for money. After being stabbed to death, they would then talk about finding the culprit.

It was frightening. Such a harsh and indifferent world. This country.

“Give me everything you have.”

“I don’t have anything.”

“Even the horse, give it to me!”

“I need to go home too!”

Min-joo stood behind Petit Gendu, holding the reins tightly. The horse, happy with its fancy name, neighed and stomped on the ground.

Though scared, Min-joo, who consistently answered the robber, was approached by him, silently pushing the dagger closer.

“Hand it over.”

Did he think she was a vending machine?

Min-joo shook her head, clenching her lips tightly, and the robber, as if intending to stab Min-joo, swung his arm wide.

That’s when it happened.

With the sound of breaking bricks, the robber tumbled to the ground. Startled, people around turned their attention to the scene.

“Did he just get hit by the horse?”

Indeed, the horse had lifted its front leg high and struck the robber’s head.

Min-joo was speechless. She found herself in a situation where even the horse was helping her. Grateful as she was, she couldn’t help feeling pathetic. Maybe she should learn how to shoot a gun.

Min-joo gently stroked the head of the horse that neighed proudly. 

“Good job, Petit Gendu. Hang in there.”

“What’s going on?”

Permette, who had finished threatening and talking, looked at the fallen robber on the ground, the horse stomping its hooves in anger, and Min-joo, whispering to calm the horse.

Seeing the dagger in the robber’s hand, it was clear he had tried to threaten her to hand over whatever she had.

Permette chuckled and tilted his head. 

“To think even a robber… impressive.”

“It was the horse. I didn’t do anything.”

“I can see that. What can Min-joo do with those weak muscles of hers?”

“Annoying.”

Permette kicked the robber’s hand, causing the dagger to fall. Min-joo walked over and picked up the weapon.

For a moment, it felt like they were training a dog.

Permette burst into laughter. 

“Why pick it up? Is it a souvenir?”

“No, what if the robber picks it up? It’s scary how there are robbers everywhere in crowded streets.”

Min-joo casually held the dagger and answered Permette, who seemed either amused or was reassessing if her life was on the line. She remembered being terrified when she met Mireille before. Now, it seemed somewhat comical.

When Permette, who looked noble from every angle, appeared, people sighed in relief and sent grateful applause. The reactions, even offering advice on keeping one’s lover safe, were so absurd that Min-joo found it bewildering.

It was hard to believe that social status was more important than life itself. Permette pushed a bag into Min-joo’s hands. Without thinking, Min-joo accepted it, and Permette immediately lifted her by the waist onto the horse.

Light.

Permette mumbled something quietly and looked at Min-joo. She sat on the horse, holding a dagger and the bag tightly in both hands. The breath was so close to the neck that Permette decided to just swallow whatever was building up.

“Is that really a souvenir? Throw it away.”

“I feel like I should have something to defend myself.”

“Hmm.”

Permette nodded and sat behind Min-joo. Holding the reins, he naturally pulled Min-joo’s shoulder closer.

Min-joo lowered her head gracefully, aware of the onlookers.

“You’re holding the dagger well.”

“Yes, I won’t let go.”

As soon as the conversation ended, Permette wrapped Min-joo’s head in his arms. A strange mixture of ink and damp paper smells tickled her nose.

As Min-joo remained still, Permette’s thick, scarred hands came down with her black hair, encircling her shoulders and pulling her close.

Her head and shoulders itched.

Min-joo held her breath for a moment before exhaling deeply.

“If there’s no one around, I’ll talk, so just stay like this.”

Min-joo didn’t respond to his affectionate tone and considerate words. Just a bit. Her mood became a bit unsettled.

She could feel his heartbeat, breath, and the subtle wrinkles of his shirt against her skin. If Min-joo hadn’t received Vehen’s help, she might have struggled in the alleys like them, fighting to survive or trying to scavenge for food.

Nobles and commoners alike would probably target the pockets of the unsuspecting.

She remembered the times right after arriving here, wandering when there was nowhere to go. Those moments when nobody cared, and it wasn’t hostile either.

How fortunate it must be for everyone to live such a life. Except for the nobles, how impoverished must the people of different social classes be living?

It felt like they had been riding for a long time, but Permette didn’t say where they were going, and there was no one around, no conversation.

Just riding, breathing in the saddle, and swaying.

Suddenly, the shoes that fit her feet perfectly felt remarkably comfortable.