CAR 13

Since Vittorio was the sole culprit, he was brazen. However, he had a bit of a fever from being in the rain. He tried to shake it off, but in the end, Dennis was the first to leave the classroom as soon as the class ended, and he was forced to visit the scene of the incident.

Laurent’s picture was posted over Eric and Violette’s faces. Unluckily, Dennis was involved in every single death. And yet, he hadn’t been able to lay a single finger on Vittorio, the one he most wished would die.

Dennis stared blankly at the long hallway, now completely inaccessible near the nurse’s office. He didn’t care. Dennis, who had lifted the long cloth blocking the hallway, closed the distance to the crime scene. The faint smell of blood was still present.

The door to the nurse’s office was, unexpectedly, not locked. It was when Dennis grabbed the doorknob. A familiar person gently wrapped an arm around Dennis’s shoulder.

The smell of wet earth and starkly burnt wood. He couldn’t tell if it was perfume or the smell of a cigar.

“Kahler.”

“…Am I a close friend of Mr. Richter’s?”

“I’d like you to just call me Yan now.”

“What’s important is attitude, not titles.”

Dennis shook off Yan’s arm. Yan Richter’s face was gaunt, unlike usual. Yan, holding up both hands and stepping back in an exaggerated manner, suddenly shivered.

“A student hanged himself in the nurse’s office.”

“…Hanged himself?”

How could that be? Laurent had been beheaded by Vittorio.

“It’s not that surprising. You’d know the general atmosphere from the observation class. The more unfortunate a kid’s circumstances are, like his, the more they hang on their grades… and then they actually hang themselves.”

“Are you certain it was suicide?”

“If their family is nothing special… they absolutely have to secure a sponsor at the spring regular performance.”

Like a prostitute. Yan, adding that, even shook his head as if it were a shame.

“His body gets heavier and heavier, Vittorio is a wall he can’t overcome… And with a naturally pessimistic disposition, how bad must it have been?”

“…”

“You seemed to care about that kid quite a bit, Mr. Kahler?”

Laau… rent. Yan, deliberately drawing out Laurent’s name, studied Dennis’s face.

Care? These days, Dennis’s every nerve was focused solely on Vittorio Bonaparte’s life. It was just because of a faint pity and fear. If only Laurent hadn’t tried to rape him, if only he hadn’t been beheaded after rashly climbing on top… he wouldn’t have carefully buried a part of another person’s corpse.

Yan looked worriedly at Dennis’s reddish cheeks. He then placed a hand on Dennis’s forehead and sighed as if it were his own pain.

“Want a piggyback ride?”

“I’d rather drop dead right here and now than get a piggyback ride from Mr. Richter.”

“Oh my… It seems my situation, losing a close colleague on top of my favorite student, isn’t being considered at all.”

“Close?”

Yan, who had left Dennis in the hallway and was about to enter the nurse’s office, suddenly turned to look at him. His brown eyes, dry like parched earth, gently swept over Dennis from top to bottom.

“I hold you dear, Mr. Kahler.”

“That’s a shame. I am not close with you, nor am I friendly, and I have even less desire to hold you dear.”

Yan, who let out a short burst of laughter, went inside the nurse’s office. Dennis tried to follow, but he quickly locked the door. I’ll bring the medicine to you.

Left alone in the long hallway, Dennis’s body slowly sank down. The wall he leaned against was the only comfort.

🩰

Leaning against the door, Yan’s face was expressionless. He slowly looked around the nurse’s office, which reeked of blood. The blood-stained wallpaper felt grotesque. The furniture, including the bed, was also not intact.

And in the middle of the nurse’s office, the main culprit who had caused a ruckus in another’s territory was lying down nonchalantly.

He was holding something up to the bluish light of the nurse’s office. Yan gritted his teeth as he glared at the long arm held up toward the air. The anger he had barely suppressed all weekend flared up again like a wildfire upon seeing Vittorio’s face.

“This time, you went too far.”

“Yes… I’m sorry about the wallpaper. I’ll compensate you.”

“Not that.”

“Did you love him or something?”

“Who…”

“You have some awful taste.”

Vittorio sat up and stretched. Instead of replying, Yan glared at him as if to kill him. Regardless of what Yan did, Vittorio calmly approached the shelves and rummaged familiarly through the medicines. Vittorio, who had picked up a bottle of painkillers, closed the distance with Yan.

Vittorio lowered his head slightly for him.

“Feeling resentful? Want to take a swing?”

Vittorio offered his cheek with a peaceful expression. But Yan, though he clenched his fist, did not strike him. Soon, Vittorio’s brow furrowed sharply. Vittorio’s large hand straightened Yan’s clothes.

“Stop burning yourself out.”

“…”

“That’s the only way you can be promiscuous for a long, long time, isn’t it?”

Yan grabbed Vittorio, who was about to pass him casually. He then shook off his hand as if extremely displeased. Vittorio nodded his head.

“…How was it?”

He was asking Vittorio about Laurent’s final moments. The first person to discover the ‘scene’ was Yan. Barely suppressing his nausea, he had frozen upon recognizing the owner of the mutilated corpse. What’s more, the head was nowhere to be found.

Laurent’s back was dirty with marks of having fully received ashes. At a glance, it looked like freckles, but it was clearly a scar. In fact, the nickname Yan used for Laurent was also ‘Ashtray.’

Despite having treated his favorite student in such a way, he was, paradoxically, curious about his end. Vittorio bestowed a sliver of mercy for Yan’s sake.

“He cried.”

“Ah…”

Yan, who let out a long groan, braced himself against the wall and slumped down. Regardless of what Yan did, Vittorio left the nurse’s office.

Yan Richter shook his head, as if troubled by his unsightly erection. Yan still couldn’t forget the moment he had faced Laurent’s corpse, with all the things that should have been there cut off. If the corpse had been just a little more intact, he would have fucked it before it rotted.

Yan’s anger was not just because Vittorio had killed Laurent. It stemmed from the lament of not being able to savor Laurent’s final moments.

To give Yan pleasure even in death… what a truly lovely ashtray he was. As soon as Vittorio left the nurse’s office, he greedily pulled down his pants.

🩰

The place where Dennis opened his eyes was, again, his room.

Looking up at the high ceiling and arched windows, this place felt like the point of origin. No matter what kind of ordeal he had suffered outside the room, all sense of reality subsided when he opened his eyes in bed.

Antipyretics were on the desk. The person who had brought him here might have been Yan Richter. It was enough to make his rejection of all closeness, friendliness, and affection with him seem pointless.

This was already the second time he was indebted to him. He was a rude man, who would bite Dennis’s ear or touch his body… but his actions might not be everything.

Dennis chewed and swallowed the antipyretics without water. His head was clear, thanks to having slept soundly without dreaming.

He mulled over Marquis Quachi’s card once again. Having memorized it without missing a single word, the familiar handwriting was neatly arranged in his mind. Although Laurent Remitte had met with a mishap, according to Quachi’s message, the ‘first son’ was still here in Volle. They weren’t actually related by blood, but all the boys educated by Quachi were called his sons.

First, he had to negotiate with the first son.

And he planned to kill Vittorio in time for the regular performance.

Because it was the only time outsiders could come and go from Volle…

Dennis, who had the antipyretics for breakfast, quickly splashed cold water on his body and prepared for class. The regular routine gave Dennis a bit of vitality. It was just bitter to realize only now that standing on the platform was a perfect fit for him. If he were to obtain the long-awaited freedom from Quachi…

But the vitality did not last long.

During Dennis’s class, someone knocked on the door. Laurent Remitte was standing there.