try begging

"How did you find out? Every time a child was born, they sold gold bars. It would have been impossible to pay the hospital bills with the laborer's wages, so they had no choice."

"... ... ."

"I only found out today that it was a legacy. Thanks to you. That means she got some gold too. The bars you sold were all minted by the Royal Heritage Bank and had serial numbers. Your mother must have bought them around the same time, and the numbers on what you sold and what she had are pretty close."

Winston thought quickly on his own and came to a conclusion on his own.

"Oh, so I can just track that woman down with the gold bars?"

The bastard laughed. This time he seemed genuinely happy.

"Okay. That gives me a new clue. Thanks."

A black-gloved hand suddenly appeared outside the window and tapped the dumbfounded Joe on the shoulder as if to offer encouragement. Before Joe could say anything, the window rolled up and the car began to move.

Joe, who had been blankly staring at the rear end of the car disappearing over the hill, clicked his tongue belatedly.

That damn devil.

I will definitely ask my brother when I meet him someday.

Grace, what on earth did you do to make that demon obsessed with you?

º º º

The radio, which was turned on to mask the blaring car horns and the noise of the weekend crowds, played a cheerful song endlessly. But Grace, sitting on her hotel bed in a bathrobe, was not feeling cheerful at all.

I can't do this anymore.

That was Grace's conclusion after two months on the run.

"Phew... ."

A sigh was mixed with the sound of turning the pages of the newspaper. Why is it so hard to find a decent place? Grace sighed repeatedly as she scanned the real estate rental ads with her fingertips.

It was when I was folding the newspaper I was reading without any particular interest and opening another newspaper. After the long intro on the radio ended, the lyrics came on.

[Where did our honey go?]

At that moment, Grace burst out laughing without realizing it. The earnest lyrics did not match the cheerful melody at all.

"My dear, where are you wandering around in this cold winter, leaving my warm embrace behind? Huh? I'm worried."

The voice of the man who had been slyly and lightly expressing his longing feelings came to mind.

[Where is our honey tonight?]

Where are you? Your honey is in room 1115 of the Fraser Hotel in Wakefield City.

"By the way, how is our child?"

It's so good that it's a problem.

Grace took a small bite of the cake on the table and immediately took a sip of ginger ale. Perhaps because the squatters in her stomach had grown so much recently, she had trouble digesting the food, so she had to keep the ginger ale in her mouth.

There are now 10 weeks left until the squatters are evicted.

It was difficult to move around with such a heavy body that I couldn't even use the bathtub. Moreover, I couldn't give birth in the hotel room.

Surely, that man must have been wanted by all the hospitals in the kingdom. They must be excited, thinking that in ten weeks, the rats will walk into the trap on their own.

Do you think I'm that stupid?

Grace tapped on an advertisement for lifestyle information and then flipped through the map book lying face down next to her.

"Hmm... ."

The location and price were reasonable.

[Security guards on standby 24 hours a day, concierge service.]

Plus, it's safe. There's always someone waiting to run errands, so you don't have to go out. But the problem is... .

[Active exchange of residents.]

In other words, it meant that they regularly held social events for residents, such as parties. If there was a lot of interaction, rumors would spread. There would definitely be rumors about Grace, such as the husband of the new woman who moved in never being seen coming and going from her house, or something suspicious.

It's only a matter of time before we come to the conclusion that the woman in the flyer is me.

"Haa... Really, where should I go?"

The best way to avoid that man's pursuit would be to go to a slum where people are too busy earning a living to be curious about others, or to an immigrant district where many people do not speak the language well and cannot read leaflets, and are afraid of phone calls and authorities.

In such a place, I had to take care of many things on my own, from food, clothing, and shelter to personal safety, without anyone to help me. It would have been easy if I was single, but it was impossible with this body.

So, leaving such places as a last resort, the man kept talking to Grace, who had been flipping through the newspapers for days looking for a suitable place.

"I was too harsh on you, I hated you, it was all too much, and I won't do it again. I forgive you for what you did to me. I want to clean up the past and start over with you. So please give me one more chance."

Grace, who had been absentmindedly tapping her pencil on the newspaper, muttered after a while and turned her gaze back to the advertisement.

"... Don't make me laugh."

If you want to arrest me again, what can I say? It was unpleasant to see an apology come out so easily from that arrogant person's mouth, as if it were belittling him. It wasn't even an apology with sincere reflection. That was a deception.

You little bastard. Just wait and see.

Grace gritted her teeth as she looked down at her visibly heaving belly.

In ten weeks, I will erase all traces of you from my sight.

It took three more newspapers before I found just one suitable apartment.

'I should call tomorrow.'

Grace, who was cutting up advertisements with a military dagger, groaned as she looked at the rent.

'I don't think I can do it with the cash I have now.'

Soon, her gaze turned to the handbag placed on the dressing table.

'I need to sell some gold bars.'

º º º

Jimmy watched the devil with trembling eyes. Sitting two feet away from him without a table, he felt like he was thrown naked before a beast.

But even with the table between them, he already knows that he cannot avoid the mad violence of that devil. The tattoo of 'Death row inmate' still clearly visible on his hand tied to the armrest was proof of this.

It must have been more than a month since they were transferred from the North to the new camp in the West, although I don't know exactly. I thought they would go to the Govern camp where their comrades were mostly held, but the leadership was moved to a temporary camp set up in the prison near Winsford. It seemed like they were going to keep them close to the headquarters and continue to interrogate them.

But for quite some time, no one came to see him, making such speculations seem meaningless. It was only when he was locked up in solitary confinement and on the verge of going mad that Winston came to see him. But he was not happy about it.

Why did you come all of a sudden?

The only thing that wasn't sudden was the content of the question.

"Tell me everything, without leaving anything out, about how you came to have that woman infiltrate me."

Another question about Grace.

However, it was unexpected to ask a question that had nothing to do with the whereabouts.

As the author continued to explain the process of how he had brought Grace undercover as a maid in Winston's house, interjecting questions from time to time, the other person's face hardened.

"Oh, now that I think about it, you said you ran into that person when you were young."

Winston remained silent for a moment before coming to his own conclusion.

"So that woman never asked to go undercover. You just forced her."

Jimmy's brow furrowed. Force? He didn't force someone who didn't want to do it. He just had to persuade them a little, but in the end, it was Grace who chose to go undercover.

"It's not coercion, it's persuasion."

"persuasion?"

Winston, who had been leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his chin on his clasped hands, and lost in thought, snorted.

"I don't even need to look at how he persuaded her. He must have been quite skilled at brainwashing her by stirring her mind. Dear Mr. Blanchard, in class, John-like things like that are defined as coercion."

Then Winston persistently asked about the process of ordering the honey trap and Grace's reaction at the time.

"In the end, that woman was right... ."

Winston's face, muttering to himself, suddenly turned grim. Why was his face so furious? Jimmy chewed over what he had said, but he couldn't figure out what had provoked the author.

How did Grace survive under the demon's sway, whose thoughts and actions were completely unpredictable?

What the hell.

It was a story that was obvious just by looking at the ship. It was the moment when I shook my head to shake off the last image of Grace that was floating before my eyes.

Knock knock. There was a sound of a chair being dragged. I looked up and saw Winston standing up and turning toward the door.

Is this the end?

Jimmy forgot for a moment in his relief that the devil's thoughts and actions were unpredictable.

Winston, who was heading for the door, suddenly stopped.

"Oh, right. I brought you a gift, but I almost forgot."

In an instant, the bastard opened his holster, pulled out the gun, and pulled the slide back.

bang.

"Eww!"

Before he could even see the damage, a crushing pain shot through his foot. Winston looked down at Jimmy, who was bleeding and screaming, with pitiful eyes, and blurted out a word as he went outside.

"This is not a gift for me, it's a gift from Joe."

"How did you find out? Every time a child was born, they sold gold bars. It would have been impossible to pay the hospital bills with the laborer's wages, so they had no choice."

"... ... ."

"I only found out today that it was a legacy. Thanks to you. That means she got some gold too. The bars you sold were all minted by the Royal Heritage Bank and had serial numbers. Your mother must have bought them around the same time, and the numbers on what you sold and what she had are pretty close."

Winston thought quickly on his own and came to a conclusion on his own.

"Oh, so I can just track that woman down with the gold bars?"

The bastard laughed. This time he seemed genuinely happy.

"Okay. That gives me a new clue. Thanks."

A black-gloved hand suddenly appeared outside the window and tapped the dumbfounded Joe on the shoulder as if to offer encouragement. Before Joe could say anything, the window rolled up and the car began to move.

Joe, who had been blankly staring at the rear end of the car disappearing over the hill, clicked his tongue belatedly.

That damn devil.

I will definitely ask my brother when I meet him someday.

Grace, what on earth did you do to make that demon obsessed with you?

º º º

The radio, which was turned on to mask the blaring car horns and the noise of the weekend crowds, played a cheerful song endlessly. But Grace, sitting on her hotel bed in a bathrobe, was not feeling cheerful at all.

I can't do this anymore.

That was Grace's conclusion after two months on the run.

"Phew... ."

A sigh was mixed with the sound of turning the pages of the newspaper. Why is it so hard to find a decent place? Grace sighed repeatedly as she scanned the real estate rental ads with her fingertips.

It was when I was folding the newspaper I was reading without any particular interest and opening another newspaper. After the long intro on the radio ended, the lyrics came on.

[Where did our honey go?]

At that moment, Grace burst out laughing without realizing it. The earnest lyrics did not match the cheerful melody at all.

"My dear, where are you wandering around in this cold winter, leaving my warm embrace behind? Huh? I'm worried."

The voice of the man who had been slyly and lightly expressing his longing feelings came to mind.

[Where is our honey tonight?]

Where are you? Your honey is in room 1115 of the Fraser Hotel in Wakefield City.

"By the way, how is our child?"

It's so good that it's a problem.

Grace took a small bite of the cake on the table and immediately took a sip of ginger ale. Perhaps because the squatters in her stomach had grown so much recently, she had trouble digesting the food, so she had to keep the ginger ale in her mouth.

There are now 10 weeks left until the squatters are evicted.

It was difficult to move around with such a heavy body that I couldn't even use the bathtub. Moreover, I couldn't give birth in the hotel room.

Surely, that man must have been wanted by all the hospitals in the kingdom. They must be excited, thinking that in ten weeks, the rats will walk into the trap on their own.

Do you think I'm that stupid?

Grace tapped on an advertisement for lifestyle information and then flipped through the map book lying face down next to her.

"Hmm... ."

The location and price were reasonable.

[Security guards on standby 24 hours a day, concierge service.]

Plus, it's safe. There's always someone waiting to run errands, so you don't have to go out. But the problem is... .

[Active exchange of residents.]

In other words, it meant that they regularly held social events for residents, such as parties. If there was a lot of interaction, rumors would spread. There would definitely be rumors about Grace, such as the husband of the new woman who moved in never being seen coming and going from her house, or something suspicious.

It's only a matter of time before we come to the conclusion that the woman in the flyer is me.

"Haa... Really, where should I go?"

The best way to avoid that man's pursuit would be to go to a slum where people are too busy earning a living to be curious about others, or to an immigrant district where many people do not speak the language well and cannot read leaflets, and are afraid of phone calls and authorities.

In such a place, I had to take care of many things on my own, from food, clothing, and shelter to personal safety, without anyone to help me. It would have been easy if I was single, but it was impossible with this body.

So, leaving such places as a last resort, the man kept talking to Grace, who had been flipping through the newspapers for days looking for a suitable place.

"I was too harsh on you, I hated you, it was all too much, and I won't do it again. I forgive you for what you did to me. I want to clean up the past and start over with you. So please give me one more chance."

Grace, who had been absentmindedly tapping her pencil on the newspaper, muttered after a while and turned her gaze back to the advertisement.

"... Don't make me laugh."

If you want to arrest me again, what can I say? It was unpleasant to see an apology come out so easily from that arrogant person's mouth, as if it were belittling him. It wasn't even an apology with sincere reflection. That was a deception.

You little bastard. Just wait and see.

Grace gritted her teeth as she looked down at her visibly heaving belly.

In ten weeks, I will erase all traces of you from my sight.

It took three more newspapers before I found just one suitable apartment.

'I should call tomorrow.'

Grace, who was cutting up advertisements with a military dagger, groaned as she looked at the rent.

'I don't think I can do it with the cash I have now.'

Soon, her gaze turned to the handbag placed on the dressing table.

'I need to sell some gold bars.'

º º º

Jimmy watched the devil with trembling eyes. Sitting two feet away from him without a table, he felt like he was thrown naked before a beast.

But even with the table between them, he already knows that he cannot avoid the mad violence of that devil. The tattoo of 'Death row inmate' still clearly visible on his hand tied to the armrest was proof of this.

It must have been more than a month since they were transferred from the North to the new camp in the West, although I don't know exactly. I thought they would go to the Govern camp where their comrades were mostly held, but the leadership was moved to a temporary camp set up in the prison near Winsford. It seemed like they were going to keep them close to the headquarters and continue to interrogate them.

But for quite some time, no one came to see him, making such speculations seem meaningless. It was only when he was locked up in solitary confinement and on the verge of going mad that Winston came to see him. But he was not happy about it.

Why did you come all of a sudden?

The only thing that wasn't sudden was the content of the question.

"Tell me everything, without leaving anything out, about how you came to have that woman infiltrate me."

Another question about Grace.

However, it was unexpected to ask a question that had nothing to do with the whereabouts.

As the author continued to explain the process of how he had brought Grace undercover as a maid in Winston's house, interjecting questions from time to time, the other person's face hardened.

"Oh, now that I think about it, you said you ran into that person when you were young."

Winston remained silent for a moment before coming to his own conclusion.

"So that woman never asked to go undercover. You just forced her."

Jimmy's brow furrowed. Force? He didn't force someone who didn't want to do it. He just had to persuade them a little, but in the end, it was Grace who chose to go undercover.

"It's not coercion, it's persuasion."

"persuasion?"

Winston, who had been leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his chin on his clasped hands, and lost in thought, snorted.

"I don't even need to look at how he persuaded her. He must have been quite skilled at brainwashing her by stirring her mind. Dear Mr. Blanchard, in class, John-like things like that are defined as coercion."

Then Winston persistently asked about the process of ordering the honey trap and Grace's reaction at the time.

"In the end, that woman was right... ."

Winston's face, muttering to himself, suddenly turned grim. Why was his face so furious? Jimmy chewed over what he had said, but he couldn't figure out what had provoked the author.

How did Grace survive under the demon's sway, whose thoughts and actions were completely unpredictable?

What the hell.

It was a story that was obvious just by looking at the ship. It was the moment when I shook my head to shake off the last image of Grace that was floating before my eyes.

Knock knock. There was a sound of a chair being dragged. I looked up and saw Winston standing up and turning toward the door.

Is this the end?

Jimmy forgot for a moment in his relief that the devil's thoughts and actions were unpredictable.

Winston, who was heading for the door, suddenly stopped.

"Oh, right. I brought you a gift, but I almost forgot."

In an instant, the bastard opened his holster, pulled out the gun, and pulled the slide back.

bang.

"Eww!"

Before he could even see the damage, a crushing pain shot through his foot. Winston looked down at Jimmy, who was bleeding and screaming, with pitiful eyes, and blurted out a word as he went outside.

"This is not a gift for me, it's a gift from Joe."