Mixed-Blood in a Gender Role Reversed World - Chapter 57

 Chapter 57: The Withering Flower (4)

When Roza was young, barely reaching the height of a waist, she loved to distinguish between good and evil.  

But as time passed and her perspective grew closer to the heavens, she realized such distinctions were meaningless and trivial.

If she branded her sister, who had immersed herself in the underworld, as evil and sought to enforce justice, nothing would be left for her.  

Having gone through countless missions, Roza realized she was no different herself, and thus couldn’t hold up a yardstick of judgment.

Even now, she remembers. The conversation they had at dawn, breathing out cold air, when she learned her sister was part of the mafia.

"You’re insane. Aren’t you ashamed of what your future kids will think?"

"I’m not having kids. I’m Requiem."

"Because they’d be taken away? If you left now…"

"That’d mean death, Roza. Just so you know, stay out of it. We’ve got a lot of strings attached up top. This isn’t an organization a mere agent can take on. If you don’t want to die by your own team, keep quiet."

"…Sis, are you an idiot? Why’d you join a psycho place like that?"

"Money."

That single word led to Roza flipping the table and throwing punches. She swore in anger never to see her sister again.  

But not long after, Roza learned the truth.

Her father’s mounting hospital bills were paid on time, every time.  

Her sister, who became the family’s breadwinner early on, had been covering Roza’s tuition.

Her sister had sacrificed herself for her.  

What could you call that? Good? Evil?

"…I should’ve known when you wouldn’t show me the bankbook. Sponsorship, my ass."

"Sorry."

"Don’t ever pull that crap again, damn it. I ended up looking like the bad guy."

As the years changed and the calendar flipped, the bond between the sisters grew deeper.

"How’s… brother-in-law doing?"

"Same as always. Making a fuss about finding the kid. I saw him today, and he’d taken off his wedding ring."

"Ugh… Why’d you hide it?"

"He wouldn’t have married me otherwise."

"…Don’t you feel sorry for the kid?"

"The first one’s a lost cause. I’ll make it up with the next one. My husband will understand eventually."

"Sis… you love him, right?"

"Of course."

“Perhaps you should reconsider.”

In the heavy atmosphere, as Roza was packing her things, Pecha spoke to her.  

Her tone was cautious yet resolute, and Roza closed her eyes, running her fingers through her hair as if tugging at it.

“It makes me wonder how desperate he must’ve been. From what he’s shown lately, it really feels like he’s lost his memories. Could someone fake those eyes?”

Pecha’s words brought faint memories to Roza’s mind.  

Images of Sasha, pretending not to care but clearly worrying about her.  

Then why did he waver earlier? If only someone could explain.

“And… mentioning that name was too much. The young master probably didn’t know what to do. It was her who taught him, wasn’t it?”  

“…”  

“It feels like you’re making a mistake. I hope you’ll choose the right path.”

Roza glared at Pecha with wide eyes. But as always, Pecha endured the stare silently, meeting Roza’s gaze with steady, unwavering eyes.

“One thing you should know: whether it’s either of the young masters, I survived that first day.”

In the end, Roza’s fiery temper fizzled out, unable to consume the wood.

“…”

Letting out a long sigh, Roza trudged out of the house.  

Standing alone in the desolate hallway, she made a call.

Soon, the screen lit up.

00:01.

"First call since back then. How have you been?"

Olga Fonda, Requiem’s current second-in-command. Neither ally nor anything else just an ambiguous relationship.

[Your voice sounds good. Different from when you and your boss came begging for my help. Success suits you, doesn’t it, Fonda]

[Talking about old times]

“Shut up. You said Sasha lost his memories. But from what I see, that’s not the case.”  

[Hmm… That shouldn’t be possible.]

“…Don’t bullshit me. Does  she know about this?"

[Please mind your manners]

Roza’s laughter echoed through the quiet hallway.

“Manners? Coming from someone who only thinks about devouring her own boss?”  

[I’m just doing my best to end the succession.]

“Cut the crap. I know all about your power-hungry schemes. Did you orchestrate this too? You provoked Sasha to lure me here. That clever nephew of mine used me to make a comeback and take on your boss. Nice plan.”  

[I didn’t start this. I was only put in charge recently. Though, there’s some truth you can’t deny… I sent you some photos.]

“What the hell—”  

Roza irritably pulled the buzzing phone from her ear, frowning as she began flipping through the photos filling the screen.

A photo of a woman with a long ponytail on a date. With a radiant woman by his side, Sasha was laughing happily.

Another of him, soaked in the rain, holding a dog and running somewhere with another girl.

As Roza flipped through the photos, the corners of her mouth unknowingly curled upward. As expected of his looks, the women around him were no slouches either.

(This is the life I wanted for my nephew…)

…Or was it?

Roza’s eyes widened as she took in the faces in the photos.  

Not his usual cold smile.  

A genuine, happy smile.

Even with all that vengeance and rage surely bubbling inside, he was living with such an expression?

“…What’s the chance it was all an act from the start?” 

[Well, he washed his identity and fled. Who’d expect someone to be secretly watching? I believe you’d know better, Director. Oh, I can’t call you that anymore. My apologies, force of habit.]

“…Are you trying to provoke me now?”  

[Your usefulness has run its course. It’s over, isn’t it? The relationship between you and your nephew. You put in so much effort, what a shame. What will he think of you once he regains his memories? You had to go and reopen old wounds.]

[…Maybe I should start cleaning up my surroundings.]

“…You’ve grown a lot, Fonda. I should’ve wiped you all out back then. Before the pet I cherished could upend the country. And Sasha didn’t lose his memories. When I mentioned Rizhova…”  

[Hmm, I see it differently. Memory loss isn’t guaranteed to be permanent. Maybe mentioning that name jogged something.]

“What the fu—”

A jolt of electricity shot through Roza’s mind, cutting off her curse. Her pupils dilated, trembling with unease.  

Memories suddenly pieced together, like mismatched puzzle pieces clicking into place.

Then… was he really just acting on instinct?

Roza hung up the phone and rushed down the hallway, descending the stairs. When she reached the spot from earlier, her nephew was still there.  

Sasha, eyes lowered with a troubled expression, spoke when he noticed her.

“…Anything else to say?”  

“Sasha. That expression earlier… why did you make it? You said you didn’t know her.”

Bloodstains from biting his lip marked Sasha’s mouth. Roza fought the urge to close her eyes.

“…I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking anything, my body just reacted. I know it’s hard to believe, but… it’s true.”

Seeing Sasha grimace as if he didn’t understand himself, Roza spoke.

“Sorry… I’m so sorry…”  

“What’s there for you to be sorry about? It’s all my fault to begin with.”

As Sasha apologized, a memory flashed by.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, Sis. I was such an idiot…”

“It’s not your fault, Roza. This is my karma. Just… look after Sasha later. He’s in bad shape right now. And don’t do anything reckless like avenging Natasha.”

“…How much time do you have left?”

“A few months, maybe. After drinking that. I need to get Sasha somewhere safe before then.”

Roza’s fingertips trembled.

If her actions dragged Sasha back into the mud…  

If she stole even the brief sweetness he had and woke him from his dream…

Realizing what she’d done, Roza hung her head weakly.  

She couldn’t muster the courage to face Sasha directly.

“I’m fine, Aunt. Look at me.”

Roza raised her head at the voice piercing her ears.

(…Damn it.)

Whether he’s lost his memories or regained them, the cruelty is the same.

__

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Before a towering, mysterious gravestone, a woman slowly approached.  

Her ash-white hair, cascading past her waist, swayed with each gentle step.  

Her amber eyes gleamed nobly in the thick darkness, trailing her every move.

She quietly savored the cemetery, which she hadn’t visited in a while.  

The scent of fresh grass rose from the flowers on the ground, and the chirping of insects sounded like a lullaby.

“I’m here.”

Leaning against the base of the gravestone, she sat gently, her slender white fingers brushing the cold stone.

“It’s Dad’s death anniversary today, right? One of my people told me.”

She tapped the pistol at her waist, speaking in a sing-song voice.  

After a while, her eyes, adjusted to the dark, studied the name on the gravestone.

“This is kind of pointless, isn’t it? Dad’s not even here.”

Beneath this massive gravestone, only a rotting coffin lay.  

The deceased meant to rest there didn’t even have a body left.

“How old was I? The day Dad came to save me.”

A man had come to retrieve his child, armed with just a pistol. How could a man be so brave?  

It was surprising that one of the culprits behind that hellish place had shown up.

But, as expected, the outcome was predictable.  

His clothes torn, he ended up with women taking turns sitting on his stomach.  

After that beastly act was over, she had a task to do.

Her now-dead boss had handed her a gun and spoken to her, still a child.  

Struggling to hold the heavy gun in her small hands, she approached him.

She pulled the trigger until the bullets ran out, and from that day, Natasha lost something.  

That’s how she lived until she met a boy named Sasha.

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Translated by Reversalmanhwa.web.id  

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