Mixed-Blood in a Gender Role Reversed World - Chapter 49

 Chapter 49 : one Step (3)  

My body feels as heavy as a water-soaked sponge. Having stayed up all night, an overwhelming urge to bury my head in a pillow and sleep washes over me.  

But looking at the current situation, it seems I won’t be getting any restful slumber anytime soon.  

*Click!*  

Yuri and Pecha, as naturally as one would eat a meal, load a magazine into a pistol and pull back the slide.  

They don’t seem to give a single thought to how I might feel watching them do this. Judging by how they’re practically burying their heads on the table, I guess I’m right.  

I glance at them with a skeptical look, then something occurs to me, and I stare intently at Pecha.  

As expected of an agent, even though she wasn’t looking at me, Pecha senses my gaze, stops her hands, and lifts her head.  

“Is something bothering you?”  

“Of course there is, don’t you think? Is your sense of normalcy different from regular people?”

I was certain those words would spill out if I opened my mouth.  

But since she’s my aunt’s subordinate, and I could feel respect in Pecha’s tone, I couldn’t bring myself to snap at her.  

“Just keep the noise down a bit.”  

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quieter.”  

“And one more thing I’d like to ask…”  

“I’ll answer as much as I can.”  

Her heavy demeanor flows from the mouth of a quintessential Russian beauty. Gauging what kind of person she is from her stiff tone, I speak up.  

“Do you remember what happened earlier?”  

“…Yes, of course. If that upset you, I apologize again, young master.”  

I stop her as she starts to stand and bow. That’s not what I meant.  

“No, that’s not it. I know there was no malice, so I understand. But even if we set the knife aside, you deliberately let me take the gun, didn’t you?”  

“Yes.”  

“Why would you do that? If I had shot it, you could’ve died.”  

“…”  

Pecha’s eyes cloud over, as if she’s pondering her response. If I asked whether there was a bullet in that gun capable of piercing her skull, the answer would be yes.  

I don’t know how I knew, but Sasha’s intuition told me so.  

As I inwardly recoil at her recklessness, life returns to Pecha’s green eyes.  

“I was just following orders.”  

“…That was a foolish order. Did my aunt orchestrate everything from start to finish?”  

“Yes.”  

“Is my aunt that great of a person? Is her rank so high that you’d follow her orders even at the cost of your life?”  

It might sound like I’m picking a fight, but it was actually a question born of pure curiosity.  

“…”  

Pecha touches her chin, as if sifting through memories, then smiles bitterly, like someone recalling a long-gone past.  

“She was a remarkable person. Her position, too. And I owe her a debt.”  

Pecha pauses, then places a hand on Yuri’s shoulder.  

“This one owes the same debt as I do. That’s why we’re loyal.”  

“Huh? Me? Well… yeah, that’s true.”  

“Yuri, answer the young master respectfully, not me.”  

“Oh! Sorry!”  

Yuri’s eyes widen as she apologizes.  

I wave it off casually and flop back onto the bed. The ceiling light comes into view.  

*Ha.*  

With that level of loyalty, there’s no way I can coax anything out of them. Yuri seems like she might crack easily, but with Pecha glaring like that, she won’t dare open her mouth.  

The truths I uncovered today… or rather, I’m not sure if they’re truths or lies, but I start piecing them together methodically.  

I’m being chased by something. Protected by agents to this extent.  

Oddly, this doesn’t stir much in me. No particular excitement, just calm. I must be abnormal right now.  

(Next… I was actually 22 years old. No wonder. The house is the same, and almost everything else is, too. There’s no way only my age would be so drastically altered.)

And the last thing.  

That person my aunt glared at with murderous hatred. My sister.  

*Crunch.*  

I clench my fist as if crushing an imaginary pebble in my palm. The bandage turns red again.  

Just thinking about it brings a tidal wave of emotions, unlike anything before, threatening to swallow me whole.  

(…I need to do something, fast. A tattoo, anything. I need a spinning top as a symbol.)

My head throbs. I press my temples, focusing on the sounds piercing my ears.  

*…Click.*  

Thanks to my request, the noise quiets down.  

The sound that irritated me earlier now distracts my nerves, like a neutralizer.  

As I keep listening, the headache, worse than a hangover, begins to subside.  

*Clack!*  

“It’s done. Sorry for the noise.”  

I respond to Pecha in a half-dead voice.  

“…Keep going. Take out something else, anything. It’s… calming me down.”  

“Huh? Oh… understood.”  

The sound of metal clashing resumes, and I close my eyes in relief. But listening closely, it seems they’re disassembling the pistol again after finishing its maintenance, and I feel a bit guilty.  

Pecha takes orders so literally.  

But apologizing feels awkward and embarrassing, so I say it indirectly.  

“…Don’t follow stupid orders like that next time.”  

“No, it’s not like that…”  

“I mean, value your life.”  

“…What?”  

A rare, flustered tone comes from Pecha, but I can’t respond.  

My consciousness is already slipping away somewhere.  

____

_

*Clunk!*  

At the sound of the door opening, Pecha and Yuri instantly grab their pistols.  

“Put them down.”  

Recognizing the intruder, they gently lower their weapons and greet her.  

“You’re back.”  

“Oh, you’re here…”  

“Yes… hm?”  

Roza’s eyes widen as she looks at the bed.  

Her precious nephew, Sasha, is sleeping so deeply he wouldn’t notice if someone carried him off.  

“These crazy… two women with their eyes wide open, and he’s dressed like that…”  

It’s not that she didn’t trust her subordinates. But as an aunt who cherished her nephew, if not as a parent, her worry came out reflexively.  

Roza carefully adjusts Sasha’s clothes, then looks at the two women with subtle expressions.  

“What’s with those faces? Are you disappointed? If you don’t want a hole in your head, wipe those looks off.”  

They flinch inwardly. It wasn’t entirely untrue.  

Even in Russia, a land of handsome men, a guy like him lying there so disheveled was rare.  

Even trained agents, being women, couldn’t help but let their gazes linger.  

But that wasn’t why they were confused. Yuri speaks up rashly.  

“It’s not that… it’s just unexpected. Hard to believe, I guess…”  

“What?”  

Pecha tries to stop her, but Yuri’s words come faster.  

“Your nephew… I mean, that young master being the next head of Requiem…”  

“Stop. Before I rip your mouth apart.”  

At Roza’s menacing words, Yuri gasps and covers her mouth. Roza quietly checks that Sasha is asleep, then drags them outside.  

They reach the wall where Sehwa often smokes, and Roza turns to ask.  

“Yuri. No, Pecha, you speak first. What’s unexpected?” 

“Yes, Director…”  

“Don’t call me that. That was ages ago. Forgot?”  

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause concern.”  

Roza crosses her arms and nods at Pecha.  

“Go on.”  

“Yes. It’s just… his behavior was so strange, it’s hard to imagine he’s *that* person. That’s why it’s unexpected.”  

“…What did my nephew say?”  

“He told us not to follow stupid orders and to value our lives.”  

Roza pauses, her hand searching for a cigar. She looks at Yuri in disbelief.  

“Is that true?”  

“Yes! Not a single word off!”  

“Huh… really. Did he lose his personality along with his memories? Now he’s practically flawless. *She* must be fuming.”  

Pecha cautiously asks Roza.  

“How did… the thing you went out for go?”  

“…I confirmed my own stupidity again. Damn it… how did it come to this?”  

After muttering self-deprecatingly for a while, Roza’s expression turns cold. She speaks with that same chill.  

“When guarding my nephew later… you don’t need to be too on edge. At least for now. But stay vigilant in case *they* try something. Just protect the house well.  

No matter what he asks, never speak about the past.”  

Pecha’s cold rationality spins rapidly, producing an answer.  

“Have you… reconciled?”  

“Reconciled?”  

Roza scoffs, tearing apart the cigar she pulled out, scattering its contents on the ground.  

Picking up dry grass, she continues.  

“Even if you try to stuff the leaves back into a cigar… an empty one can’t hold them.  

They just keep falling out. Forcing it only makes them slip away.”  

Saying this, Roza puts a new cigar in her mouth.  

*Click!*  

Pecha lights it with a Zippo and steps back. Then, Pecha and Yuri bow and head back inside.  

Roza thinks to herself. The cigar tastes unusually bitter today.  

___

____

Hayul trudges toward her studio apartment, her legs heavy with exhaustion.  

(I want to cuddle with Maru and sleep. That fluffy fur… that soft bed…)

*Bzzz.*  

Her phone’s vibration interrupts her sweet daydream. She pulls it out to check the culprit.  

“Oh… it’s the group chat…”  

The group chat with her friends. The latest message is calling her out.  

She considers ignoring it but gives in to curiosity and opens it.  

Seoyoon: Let’s hit a club hard before I go to the military.  

Chaemin: Got your draft notice?  

Seoyoon: Yup.  

Chaemin: Where we going?  

Seoyoon: Valkyrie, let’s go.  

Reading from the start, Hayul flinches. A club, a space for extroverts, feels so alien to her. It’s scary and embarrassing.  

Chaemin: Valkyrie? Got money to burn? Tables there are pricey.  

Seoyoon: It’s fine. We’ll split it. I’ll cover half.  

Chaemin: LOL wtf. What’s with you? Military got you losing it?  

Seoyoon: Scared you’d bail ‘cause it’s expensive, you punks. Also, a friend said the male guards there are insanely hot. If the guards are that fine, imagine the crowd.  

Chaemin: OK OK. Hayul, come fill a seat. Just show up and look pretty, we’ll handle the rest.  

The chat ends with Chaemin’s message. Hayul pouts and types a reply.  

Hayul: Not going.  

As she’s about to pocket her phone, it rings. If she doesn’t answer now, they’ll just call again later.  

*Ugh.*  

“Why.”  

“Why aren’t you coming? Seoyoon’s paying half. Get a table, and we’re guaranteed to have fun with guys.”  

“It’s just… not my thing.”  

“What, because of *that guy*? You’re living in a drama. Just hook up. I mean, a guy comes to your place alone, suggests drinking beer, and you just send him away? Don’t you get what that means?”  

After what happened with Sehwa, Hayul had confided in her friend. She regrets it deeply now.  

“It’s not like that. Anyway, I’m not going. Hanging up…”  

“You didn’t even sleep together! So what’s the—”  

*Click.*  

Her face flushes, and she hangs up instinctively. If she’d known Chaemin would go on like this, she wouldn’t have hidden that Sehwa was a minor.  

Of course, she intended to keep things proper and had no guilt, but… how do you explain a high school boy hanging out at your place?  

Hayul sends a quick message to Chaemin saying they’ll talk later, then heads home where Maru is waiting.  

That “later” probably won’t come.  

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Translated by Reversalmanhwa.web.id  

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