Try begging

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Am I being kicked out?"

Something like a silly little mouse...

A long sigh escaped the teeth that pressed his lower lip.

If she ran away as if she had waited for him to go, he would try to catch her and knock her down on the carpet because he would be tempted again. However, what if she asked him if she was going to be kicked out...?

Sally would be so pathetic that even the slightest bit of interest had cooled off.

"I won't kick you out. So, please go."

"Th, thank you."

The maid came down under the desk, hesitatingly thanking him. Leon walked over to the chair without paying attention and opened the desk drawer.

"The gun is confiscated."

After putting the revolver in the drawer and closing it roughly, the maid turned her wrinkled face toward the door.

Leon leaned heavily against the heavy chair and sat down.

He repeated as he watched the maid slip out of the door like a mouse. In the first place, he was just letting her go for a while. It was fun to chase after she ran away, so he was just letting her go on purpose.

...But, why didn't it have a pleasant aftertaste, like a mouse that untangled the trap and ran away?

Glancing at the tightly closed door, Leon shifted his gaze to the desk that had been swept away by a storm. When the woman left and the fever went down, he felt pathetic that he had lost his mind like a rutting dog.

What was even about that lowly, wretched woman?

However, that didn't last long.

The reason he lost his mind was that she had everything spread out on the desk. Leon picked up a silk handkerchief that had been lying around beside the wallet, which Sally had left behind. Because it was white, the red bloodstain in the middle stood out even more.

The moment the faint smell of blood awakened his sense of smell, his tongue remembered the taste.

The exhilarating taste of licking a cold muzzle, the dizzying smell of death stinging his nose, but the warmth and faint beat that shouts that it is still alive.

An old memory revived in his mind as he recalled the taste of the maid's blood.

Now, it had faded to black and white, though only the girl's dark brown hair, turquoise eyes, and red drops of blood on her lips were as clear as a colorful postcard from a resort.

A bitter smile engraved on Leon's lips as he remembered the girl's last cry.

His naive childhood ended on that day. The blood he tasted the first time he ran away from the tight duty of being the eldest son of the family—the bloody smell he smelled from his father, who met a tragic end the next day.

A brief vacation at Abbington Beach as a child completely changed the meaning of blood in his life.

...Deviation.

It was a pity that his first deviance and his father's last deviance had a bad ending. After that, Leon couldn't resist the urge to taste the blood again.

"Dirty pig!"

The path had already been set before he was able to express his own will, but it was right to walk the path of a soldier. Deviations made for private interest soon become public achievements.