PBAOM ★ CH 03

Chapter 3

The Half-Blind Girl (2)

There’s a reason why God made us with two eyes.

With only one, it’s hard to judge distance, and your vision becomes narrow and unstable.

Since my right eye barely worked after the accident, my sense of balance was terrible. Running like this was dangerous — I could fall at any second.

But with a killer chasing me, I didn’t have time to worry about safety.

It was the fastest I’d ever run since possessing Natania’s body.

My breath was ragged, and my slippers were about to fall off.

Just a bit more…!

If I could just reach the servant’s quarters and ring the emergency bell, maybe the man in the snake mask would give up and flee.

“Someone! Help me!”

I shouted, hoping someone outside would hear me, passing by the big clock in the hall.

But then — the sound of footsteps. Heavy, fast, getting closer.

A dark shadow raced toward me like a nightmare coming to life.

“Ahhh!”

I ran even faster. I tried to turn the corner near a column—but my slipper slipped off.

And of course, it had to be right after the maids had polished the marble floor that day.

My bare foot slid, and I fell hard with a loud thud!

Ignoring the pain in my knee, I scrambled up and crawled toward a door cracked open with candlelight glowing through.

But just then, the man behind me threw several blades in one motion.

They sliced through the air and struck the wall, pinning the rope connected to the bell tightly in place.

He’d guessed exactly what I was planning.

My last hope disappeared like melting snow.

I froze.

The assassin, skilled beyond belief, walked toward me without even breathing hard.

Meanwhile, my head spun — my vision flickered, fading darker.

He stopped in front of me, towering like a predator over prey, and spoke in a cool, almost curious tone.

“You’re the blind lady, aren’t you?”

I tried to crawl away on all fours, trembling. He sounded amused by the sight.

I could barely see what he was doing now. The despair pressed down like a weight on my chest.

Then — a faint breeze brushed past my face.

He murmured, low and certain:

“So it’s true.”

I didn’t answer. It was obvious I was the only blind one here.

“……”

Our breathing mingled in the quiet. Even then, I kept searching for a way to survive.

How can I trick him?

Then I remembered one advantage of being from the Mermandi family — wealth.

“P-Please, spare me. I’m rich! I don’t know who hired you, but I can pay you more than they did!”

“Hmm. Doubt it.”

His short reply was cold and final.

Tears streamed down my face — and oddly, my vision cleared a little.

The man pushed up his mask.

Underneath was a young man’s face — sharp and emotionless, like someone who’d traded his soul to the devil.

His black hair fell messily, and he just stared at me — at the movement of my throat as I swallowed.

No pity. No interest. Just a cold gaze.

Ah… so money isn’t the issue.

If this kept up, I’d die. My mind went blank — I blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“If you don’t need money, I… I can serve you well!”

“Serve me? At night?”

He didn’t sound like he was joking. I froze.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant—”

“I don’t have a thing for blind girls.”

His tone was flat. Then he raised his sword.

The cold steel touched my neck — icy, merciless.

I’m sorry, Natania, I thought. But at least I tried to protect the family.

I hadn’t even carried out my plans yet — what would happen to the house without me?

But then, something unexpected came out of his mouth.

“But tell me, Lady Natania…”

“……!”

“Can you see me right now?”

His voice was sharp, almost predatory.
It felt like he could sense every lie.

Before I could even answer — something hard struck the back of my neck.

My world went black.

—

Devon Kiel was walking out of his office, bored, when he overheard two of his subordinates arguing.

They were fighting over a new assassination job — and oddly, both were trying to push it onto each other, even though the payment was unusually high.

Reinhardt, a gray-haired man, looked sick of it.

“How can we trust the Second Prince not to cut ties again? The first time was bad enough — second time’s easier, right?”

“You were the one who said you’d take it,” the other man, Jay, complained. “Why are you backing out now?”

“I heard Nicholas Mermandi’s been watching for a chance to dig up dirt on the prince. I’m not getting caught in that political mess. Too risky.”

Devon quietly approached from behind and snatched the red scroll from their hands.

The two men froze, realizing too late that their boss was standing right there.

Devon scanned the document, his voice cold and even.

“‘Eliminate the blind lady of the Duke’s house.’ Reinhardt. Jay. You two made all this noise… over this?”

Jay quickly bowed.

“Sorry, Guildmaster! Reinhardt refused the job, so I was trying to convince him.”

Reinhardt avoided Devon’s gaze, expecting a harsh rebuke.

But Devon just stared at the scroll, thinking for a long moment. Then he muttered, almost to himself:

“So, you tried to hand it off to someone else.”

Reinhardt had his reasons. Seven years ago, one of his comrades had taken an order to assassinate a Mermandi heir.

But the mission had gone horribly wrong — a young lady had drunk the poisoned wine meant for her brother.

When investigators began digging, the cowardly Second Prince blamed the assassin entirely.

That comrade was tortured and executed — Reinhardt had watched it all happen.

Jay finally broke the silence.

“Still, it’s an S-class job, sir. If you allow it, I’ll take it.”

Reinhardt turned to him, shocked and grateful — but before he could speak, Devon shook his head.

“No. That won’t be necessary.”

The two men blinked.

Devon lifted the scroll slightly.

“I’ll take this one myself. You two handle something else.”

“…Sir?”

“Wait — are you serious?”

Both of them stared, wide-eyed.

The infamous master of the Duren dark guild never worked in the field directly.

He only gave orders or brewed poisons under the Alias Deoki.

And yet — he was going to do this one personally. Alone.

They exchanged uneasy glances.

But what they saw on Devon Kiel’s face wasn’t anger — it was amusement.

He walked back into his office, scroll in hand, whistling softly.