#69. …Comrades, Right?
Sugar, without even blinking, unconsciously mimicked him by pressing her index finger to her lips. Cryer, his eyes fixed on the child, extended his senses throughout the entire house, searching for hidden spaces or anything that felt different.
And then—he caught a sound. A faint whisper of wind, so subtle that even Isaac, heir to the vision of Akendel, could not hear it. It was the kind of sound no one else on the continent could possibly detect.
—Ssshhhhh.
Following that nearly inaudible flow of air, Cryer suddenly vanished from Sugar’s sight.
—Clatter.
In the blink of an eye, the bed where Sugar had been lying flipped over, revealing a pitch-black hole beneath it.
Sugar, who had lived in this house her entire life without knowing such a space existed, could only gape soundlessly. Cryer glanced at her briefly, then reached his hand into the darkness.
Not long after, his fingers brushed something. Before Sugar could even ask what it was, Cryer pulled it out and, just as he had appeared, disappeared again—like a ghost at midday.
“It looked fine on the surface. And the crimson eyes were unmistakable.”
“Oh, you’re back?”
Olivia didn’t seem the least surprised at his sudden reappearance. Instead, she welcomed him warmly, nodding.
“So, just like you said—he hasn’t sacrificed a part of his body, or been drained of blood regularly, or anything like that, huh.”
Her bright smile belied the ghastly words, but then her eyes narrowed mischievously.
“Well? How was your son?”
At her teasing voice, Cryer’s sharp gaze softened at once.
“He was cross-dressing.”
“…Cross-dressing?”
Olivia’s eyes went wide, her neck craning forward in surprise. Of course, looking around wouldn’t make Sugar appear here, but she stretched her neck all the same, as if searching.
Cryer pressed her forehead gently, pushing her head back down.
“Yeah. Don’t know if it’s his preference or if there’s some other reason.”
“Well, that’s something we can just ask him directly. Anyway—what’s that in your hand?”
She gestured. Cryer obediently handed over the object he had pulled from the hidden space.
“There was a concealed compartment in the house. This was the only thing inside.”
“Hmmm.”
Olivia flipped the thin book every which way—even upside down—as if looking for secrets. Finally, she lifted it to her nose and sniffed.
“Smells old.”
The cover bore no title. The scent was that of aged paper and ink long out of use. Running her fingers over the black leather surface, Olivia’s expression twisted with unease.
“…This isn’t human skin, is it?”
“It isn’t.”
His calm but certain answer reassured her, and she resumed examining it—though she soon paused again.
“…How can you be so sure?”
“Who knows.”
Cryer smirked with one eye, evasive as ever. Olivia let it go.
Opening the fragile book carefully, she flipped through its yellowed pages. The further she went, the more her expression grew troubled and unsettled. Finally, at the last page, she lifted her head.
“…I think this is… a diary.”
“A diary?”
“Yeah. Though, it’s really more like… endless traces of suffering, lament, and despair.”
Shaking her head, she flipped back and forth through the pages.
“And it wasn’t all written by one person. It looks like it was continued across generations. But every entry is the same….”
I’m in pain. Save me. I can’t take this. I want to die.
The entire diary was filled with such darkness. Returning again to the final page, Olivia muttered:
“I can’t figure it out. I feel like if I just study it a little longer, I’ll understand—but it’s stuck in my head. Ugh.”
As she pressed her forehead and groaned, Cryer’s crimson eyes flared, a violent ripple spilling like blood.
“…Are you saying there’s poison in it?”
He had already checked for traps and toxins, but there could always be something harmless to him yet harmful to her. He gripped her chin, lifting her face quickly, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.
Olivia blinked, then shook her head.
“No, not like that. It’s just… you know that feeling when you’re bathing and humming a song, and suddenly you can’t remember the next lyric? Like that kind of frustrating block.”
“…I don’t get it. But you seem fine.”
Though he said so, he still examined her carefully, unwilling to release her chin. Olivia stared back and blurted:
“…Were you worried?”
“Worried enough to feel sick to my stomach.”
The answer came instantly, without a pause. Olivia’s lashes fluttered.
She had been about to ask, Why would you worry about me?—but another question rose first.
Sick to your stomach? What does that even mean?
“What do you—”
Before she could finish, Cryer leaned close, whispering in her ear:
“It means you had me burning alive inside.”
His voice was low, intimate, brushing her ear like a spark. Olivia shivered, goosebumps rising at her nape.
Noticing her reaction, Cryer stepped back, putting distance between them.
“You look like you want to ask why I was worried. But tell me—how could I not worry about the only comrade who shares my goal?”
His lips curved faintly. Olivia gave a stiff nod.
“…Y-yeah. Of course. A comrade. Right. A com…rade.”
It should have been the perfect answer, but instead of relief, she felt strangely dissatisfied. In fact, she wanted to look away from his gaze—afraid he’d see the expression on her face.
She half-lowered her eyes and forced her attention on the diary in her hands.
“Mmm… mmm, mmm.”
She tapped the last page, frowning deeply. The scrawled letters were a mess—sometimes forming words, sometimes collapsing into nonsense.
As she leaned in so close her nose nearly brushed the page, Cryer sighed and reached out, placing his palm against her face to push her back.
“Don’t look so close. Sometimes if you step back, you can see the whole pattern. Who knows—those strange letters might form a bigger picture.”
His words were half excuse to stop her, half suggestion. Yet the moment he spoke, Olivia’s eyes lit up.
“Yes! A bigger picture! I thought I recognized this—of course, it’s a map! A map!”
Thrusting the diary into his hands, she pulled a thick bundle of papers from her robes—far too bulky to have been hidden there. Cryer looked as though he had a dozen things to say, but before he could open his mouth, Olivia snapped:
“It matches the region overseen by the official who submitted this ridiculous petition!”
“Could this… really be coincidence?”
Arriving at the location marked in the diary, Olivia spun in a circle, incredulous.
“This is the place, right? Just like I said before we left.”
Cryer confirmed it with a nod.
“Yes. The place where strange phenomena have been reported.”
“The official in charge here was so terrified he appealed directly to His Majesty the Emperor.”
[In a park located on the outskirts of the capital, strange phenomena continue to occur. We dispatched investigators, but nothing was found. Even the most experienced men refused to return for further inquiry. The people grow restless. I beg Your Majesty’s mercy. If this cannot be resolved, I fear for my health and must resign…]
That was the document Olivia had angrily shouted over.
“How cowardly do you have to be to whine to His Majesty himself, claiming you’ll resign for the sake of the people’s peace of mind? Or so I thought.”
Clicking her tongue, Olivia glanced around the park. Even in broad daylight, not a soul was in sight.
“…But he didn’t specify what exactly was happening here. So we don’t even know what to look out for. Let’s search. Maybe then we’ll figure out what this miserable diary is trying to tell us.”
Cryer nodded. Olivia pointed left.
“Then you check that side, I’ll take this side.”
But Cryer lowered her hand.
“We’re moving together.”
“Why? This park is huge. If we split up, we’ll cover more—”
“I don’t want to take my eyes off you.”
Her logical argument dissolved instantly against his emotional answer. And then he added, with cold reason atop his warmth:
“Besides, walking on that injured foot? Better I carry you. Two pairs of eyes together will see more.”
His gaze flicked to the white bandage around her ankle. Olivia was left speechless.
“…I-I suppose you’re right. Then—”
Before she could finish, Cryer effortlessly scooped her into his arms.
“We’ll sweep from the left, circling inward toward the center.”
“…Okay.”
The two of them wandered the park like that for some time.
“Do you sense anything?”
“No. You?”
“Nothing.”
They repeated that exchange several times as they scoured the grounds. Eventually, back where they had started, Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and declared:
“…Put me down.”
