The Villain’s Sister - Chapter 140

Giselle grabbed Tristan’s hand.

An immense force surged through their joined palms.

The energy felt similar yet different from what he’d felt when she healed his injury last time.

Sharper, more intense, hotter. Was this what it felt like to face the sun up close?

Something with a dense, heavy texture settled in the center of Tristan’s chest.

“Wh-what is this?”

“We don’t have the power to block magic. So I placed my ability inside you. Even if time is turned back, you won’t lose your memories. If we end up repeating the same time again….”

For a moment, her face darkened, filled with a story Tristan couldn’t guess.

Giselle met his eyes directly and whispered, “If it’s you, you can lead this story to a happy ending.”

He stepped into a realm of mystery that an ordinary person, neither mage nor esper, couldn’t understand.

Whether Giselle’s concern would become reality or end as a worry, no one could predict.

All Tristan could do that day was believe the truth about the world she had explained.

“Where’s Sunshine?”

“I’ll hand him over once Giselle Moltke’s location is confirmed.”

“Can you swear to that? What am I supposed to trust about someone like you? Prove first that Sunshine is alive!”

His fierce, snarling response showed the conflict he felt in the situation.

Black Cloak snapped his fingers. The shadow on the ground split open, and Sunshine emerged from within.

He was unconscious and limp. If his chest hadn’t been rising and falling ever so slightly, you’d think he was dead.

Tristan ground his teeth.

He’d resolved to kill his brother himself, but he never wanted to see him treated like that by someone else.

The one to deal with Myers Bernadette had to be him.

“I swear.”

“You bastard….”

The shadow closed. Black Cloak asked, “I heard you’re the one who hid Giselle Moltke. Seems Logan Goldman doesn’t know the safe house address.”

He’d confirmed through a call before leaving that the team leader was still alive.

A few days ago, someone had knocked on his door, but thankfully it hadn’t escalated into a physical fight.

Making a scene wouldn’t help in a situation like this, so instead of threatening an active-duty officer, he proposed a deal using Sunshine.

“Yeah. I hid her. Got a problem?”

“Where is she? Take me there.”

“Follow me.”

Tristan got on his motorcycle.

He brought an ordinary, unmodified motorcycle so it wouldn’t reveal he was Black Pistols.

Blending into the darkness of the night and the shadows of the buildings, the Black Cloak followed him. When he saw the place Tristan led him to, he snapped in irritation.

It felt deeply ominous.

“This is a graveyard.”

Black Cloak refused to go any farther at the entrance.

“Hand over Giselle Moltke. Now.”

“The safe house is in Black City. Figure out the rest yourself. That’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Do you want to watch your brother die?”

Tristan lifted his darkened gaze and looked at him.

“Can you prove she’s in Black City?”

“Prove it… you people really love that word, don’t you? Must be your specialty, stabbing people in the back.”

Tristan pulled something out from his coat and threw it to him.

Thud.

The Black Cloak caught it midair and checked it.

“This is….”

It was a very small pendant.

Giselle’s personal treasure, the one she said her mother gave her.

The flow of the air changed. It wavered precariously, like a window trembling before an explosion.

It felt as if a river that should flow from top to bottom was defying gravity and flowing upward from below.

Tristan saw the hand exposed beneath the edge of the cloak turn pale.

“Why do you have this?”

A shadow stretched out from the cloak’s hem like a tentacle and coiled around Tristan’s neck.

His feet lifted off the ground. His breath caught, a choking sound escaping him.

“I proved it to you, and you still act like a jerk!”

“How dare someone like you have this! How dare you!”

“Crazy bastard. Figures you’re a stalker.”

“Love? Ha! Love… what you did isn’t love. The one who truly loves her, and the one she should truly love, is me!”

Figures, a damn stalker.

Tristan pulled out an anti-magic blade and cut through the shadow tentacle.

He hit the ground hard, but didn’t even have time to clutch his neck and catch his breath.

He rolled across the ground to avoid the tentacle lunging to stab him.

Bang!

When the shadow tentacle slammed down, the ground cracked open.

Gravestones shattered and fragments of stone flew.

Tristan pulled out an anti-magic gun and fired at him.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

Click.

Half the bullets fell to the ground, and the other half changed trajectory and passed by the Black Cloak.

Tristan didn’t stop firing.

Some of the anti-magic bullets grazed the Black Cloak’s body.

“How dare you have this… how dare you, how dare you!”

Taking cover behind a grave, Tristan changed the magazine.

The ampule case he’d tucked inside his coat caught his eye.

If he could, he would kill him right there and then, but he was neither a mage nor an esper. He didn’t have many weapons with him, either.

“Damn it.”

Tristan raised both hands and stepped out from behind the grave.

The tentacles flew toward him.

The gravestones within the Black Cloak’s range were all cut in half by the slicing magic he unleashed.

Just as the scale of the magic was about to grow, Tristan said, “I talk to Giselle once a day. If I don’t pick up, she’s supposed to leave the safe house and run.”

The tentacle about to pierce Tristan stopped right in front of his eyes.

The Black Cloak trembled violently.

“You think I’m lying? Then go ahead and kill me.”

“Tell me the exact address.”

“No matter how precious my brother is, I’ve got my principles. Why don’t you just rip my mouth open instead?”

“You bastard!”

Boom! Thud!

The magic bursting from the Black Cloak turned into slicing magic and brushed against Sunshine’s neck.

A thin line formed on his neck, and blood dripped down.

Tristan twisted his lips. “You son of a bitch. Try touching him again.”

“I said I’d hand him over. I never said I’d return him alive. This is your last chance.”

Magic rippled. Tristan swallowed hard and answered, “He’s using the alias Charlotte Wright. Troizen District. That’s all I can say.”

The Black Cloak threw Sunshine.

Tristan chased after the flying body and caught his brother like grabbing a baseball, but couldn’t handle the weight and fell backward.

“If the address is wrong, I’ll come back.”

With a soft slip, the Black Cloak vanished. Tristan stared at where he’d been, then curled his lips upward.

Then he pulled out handcuffs and connected Sunshine to his own wrist.

Everything was going according to plan.

***

“Mr. Raphael!”

Liam called out to Raphael with a flushed face.

When the door opened, cigarette smoke poured out.

Even at this late hour before dawn, Raphael wasn’t asleep.

After going several days without sleep, Raphael’s eyes were bloodshot to the point that, at a glance, it looked like he’d been crying.

“I’m thinking of putting out a bounty since Deva is missing.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“Twice the amount Big Bear posted should do. The media will make a fuss, but what can those bastards do anyway? It’ll all blow over once we find Deva.”

“You mean going far. May I… choose the destination?”

“As long as we find her, what would be difficult?”

Liam’s complexion brightened.

Raphael, sipping strong liquor, spoke while smoking, “I’d feel much more at ease if you’d at least tell me she’s alive, but stubbornly, you won’t even say that much.”

“Are you very upset?”

“If it’s about burning my insides black, Deva wins.”

“I found her.”

Raphael frowned as if he couldn’t believe it, deep lines forming between his brows.

“Tristan Lindbergh had Deva’s pendant! I hit him and got the address!”

“Is that true?”

With a triumphant look, Liam handed over the pendant.

Raphael’s eyes widened.

With trembling hands, he rubbed the pendant.

Tears gathered in eyes that looked like they’d never grow wet.

“Where is she?”

“Black City, Troizen District. She’s using the alias Charlotte Wright.”

Raphael sprang to his feet, embraced Liam, and pounded his back roughly.

“You are truly my brother. Deva should meet someone like you, not some pathetic cop!”

Liam, grinning from ear to ear, replied cheerfully, “He was a very vile man. He sold out Deva because his own life was at risk. I would never make that choice.”

“Ha! The moment I saw him that day, I knew! A complete bastard!”

“Mr. Raphael, let’s pack up and leave right away. Tristan Lindbergh might try something— M-Mr. Raphael?”

Liam struggled to pull away from Raphael’s embrace.

The more he did, the tighter Raphael held him.

And for good reason.

“Shhh.”

Three ampules were plunged into the back of Liam’s neck.

Click. A cocked gun pressed against his head.

“If you don’t want to die, stay still, Black Cloak.”

“H-how….”

Liam, the Black Cloak, went pale as he felt the magic that had been circulating in his body fall silent.