CAR 34

And so, the boy could not give the man the answer he wanted. Because it was the first and last promise he had made with his father, and it was a sort of last will.

Besides, even though he was still dull and not fully grown, he could predict this much. The terrifying repercussions it would bring upon aristocratic society if the boy were to tell him ‘the location of the key.’

When the boy shook his head despite the numerous beatings, the man was thoroughly infuriated. Lifting the boy, who was sprawled on the floor in a state worse than that of a vermin, the man approached the closet.

‘This is your coffin.’

‘…’

‘Just rot and fall to pieces in there, you damn devil’s spawn.’

The man, who had poured countless insults and curses upon the boy, panted as he bolted the closet door shut. Inside the narrow closet, where not a single point of light entered, was the foul stench of rotting furniture. No matter which side he leaned his back against, the mold was thick. He couldn’t tell if the brackish taste left in his mouth was from the lime soaked in alcohol or his own nosebleed.

Curled up in the closet, which was so pitch-black it felt as if he had gone blind, the boy cursed the man. Soon he came to resent his father, and then lamented being born… before he drifted off to sleep.

In his sleep, the boy overheard a conversation between the man and someone else.

‘The key?’

‘The damn brat… even after seeing his own father get beaten to death, even after I broke his legs, he doesn’t even flinch, you see.’

‘Indeed, like father, like son.’

‘I am ashamed.’

‘What is there to be ashamed of? It is we who are foolish, unable to coax a small child like that…’

‘…’

‘Still, don’t starve him. I starved my son once because he was eating indiscriminately, and later he started biting his own arm.’

‘Pardon?’

Even though the man asked back, flustered, there was no further explanation from the stranger in the drawing room. The other person seemed to be subtly looking down on the man.

‘Well, as for your son, he must become the best in the future, so…’

‘Enough. About my son’s future, no more…’

Due to the long silence, the boy’s consciousness slowly returned.

He tried pushing the closet door slightly from the inside, but it was firmly locked. Even though he had drunk nothing for days on end, he was at a loss with a heavy urge to urinate, and he scratched at the interior with his fingertips. He was already being treated like a stray dog from the marketplace, but he felt he might not be able to forgive himself if he showed an even greater disgrace here.

‘Since your lovely Mr. Kahler seems to have awoken just in time, set the closet on fire.’

‘…On fire?’

‘We must give the young master a choice.’

Whether to burn to death in the closet, or to obediently tell them the location of the key…

The stranger, picking up a candlestick, closed the distance to the closet. The man who had been beating the boy black and blue until a moment ago also turned his head away, as if in tacit agreement. Even though the boy was trapped inside the closet, for some reason, the scene in the drawing room was vividly painted in his mind.

The iron candlestick fell to the floor, making a loud noise. The stranger, taking the bottle of fruit wine that the man had left half-drunk, splashed it on the closet. He hastily slammed his body against the door, but the door did not open.

The boy’s crotch quickly became wet. He tried to scream, but the sound would not leave his throat. He stamped his feet inside the rapidly burning closet. Someone rushed into the drawing room.

Ah.

Hadn’t he already died once then?

His insignificant life was slowly being incinerated.

🩰

When he opened his eyes, it was dark all around. Dennis was being held in an unnatural position in someone’s firm embrace. It seemed only his consciousness had awakened, as his body was endlessly heavy.

Every time he exhaled, a fishy breath crept out. The pain in his chest, which swelled and subsided like a seizure, was unstable. As Dennis’s hand wandered as if scratching the empty air, the man snatched it in one swift motion.

He was completely at the man’s mercy. He did not like his own powerless body, held in this embrace. It was when Dennis put strength into his knees and tried to get up.

Both of his legs were soaking wet. Dennis, conscious of the man’s thick thigh positioned in his crotch, tried to pull his body away. However, the moment he supported his body with his knees, his body slid down. Dennis’s face turned white as he realized the identity of the puddle that had collected beneath them.

Damn it, damn it… The man just looked down at the pale, shame-filled face, without a word. It was impossible to tell whether he felt sympathy for Dennis, or if he was looking at him with contempt.

It seemed the urge to urinate from reality had carried over into his dream. If his guess was correct, Dennis had fainted for a moment. The round puddle of urine pooled under their four legs was no different from a river of shame. His soaking wet pants uncomfortably tightened around him.

Regardless of whether Dennis struggled, Vittorio remained silent. He was a man whose thoughts were always impossible to guess.

“This is…”

“Shh.”

The man, holding Dennis as if supporting the small of his back, tightened his arm. Naturally ashamed of his fragmented excuse, Dennis briefly rubbed his lips on his shoulder to wipe away the traces of vomit on his mouth.

Vittorio, who had been silently observing Dennis’s attempt to save face, twisted his head to look out into the hallway. The presence of a person with a narrow, slow stride was wandering the corridor.

“It’s best you keep your mouth shut.”

“…”

“Unless you’re a pervert who gets a thrill from showing others such a state… Am I wrong?”

That description was not directed at Dennis, but was Vittorio’s own self-introduction. Dennis’s eyelids trembled as he recalled the numerous acts of harassment and insults Vittorio had inflicted upon him.

However, for once, Vittorio was right. His reputation was already crumpled beyond repair, but Dennis had a shred of dignity to maintain until the very end.

After all, after being barely rescued from the burning closet in exchange for revealing the key’s location, hadn’t Dennis vowed to protect his disgracefully obtained life from ever being invaded again?

But this man, from the moment they first met, had constantly shattered Dennis’s limbs and trampled all over his body with muddy feet. By his hand, Dennis’s soul had become half a rag. He had to kill this man… but contrary to that resolve, it was Dennis who was on the receiving end.

Dennis glared at Vittorio with wide eyes. Vittorio never avoided his gaze. The thought kept creeping in that it didn’t matter if he showed all sorts of disgrace to Vittorio, who had invaded him so many times.

Before long, the presence wandering the hallway had long since faded. In the pitch-black silence, there were only the two men.

Vittorio was leaning his upper body diagonally against the cabinet in which Dennis had been trapped and struggling. The steel cabinet, which Vittorio had violently torn apart, had become a tattered wreck. Vittorio barely moved, but whenever Dennis idly twisted his body, bound to him, the cabinet creaked along with him. As if bothered by the noise, Vittorio pulled Dennis deeper into his embrace.

Dennis was extremely conscious of Vittorio’s thigh, which had also gotten wet for the crime of supporting his crotch, but Vittorio just seemed calm. As Dennis’s breathing gradually stabilized, Vittorio shifted his gaze to the window. The one-sided force pressing down on Dennis’s waist was starting to become burdensome. Yet Vittorio looked as leisurely as someone waiting for the sun to rise.

Dennis blatantly glared at Vittorio’s seemingly defenseless chin. Could he ram his forehead into his chin, quickly escape from Vittorio’s embrace, and kick him? The man had such animalistic senses, he could probably grab Dennis’s ankle.

First, get as far away from him as possible… and what about throwing a chair at him while offering a cringe-worthy word of thanks? He didn’t want to say a single word while being held so disgracefully in Vittorio’s arms. It was the last shred of pitiful pride he had left.

“You’d do well to stop rubbing against me so much.”

It was instantaneous that he was swatted on the buttocks.

Through the underwear and trousers clinging wetly to his bottom, Vittorio’s large palm could be felt completely. Dennis, who naturally put strength in his knees, inhaled and tilted his neck back. The palm striking his wet lower body felt much harsher than usual. As Dennis bit his lip, Vittorio sneered.

“You think you’re the only one in heat?”

“You, crazy…”

As if to not even give him a chance to spit out a curse, he struck Dennis’s bottom once more. No sooner did Dennis let out a scream than he struck him again, and again… Vittorio, who had struck him four times in a row, suddenly burst into laughter. Dennis, who had reflexively clenched his fists, hastily unclenched them with a groan.

He had lost fingernails here and there from scratching the inside of the cabinet. It was only then that he also became aware of his dirty, blood-stained sleeves.

Without any warning, Vittorio thrust his hand inside Dennis’s pants and crudely kneaded his bare buttocks. As the large hand ambushed him inside his well-tailored trousers, his waistline quickly became tight.

Regardless, Vittorio was on the verge of ripping Dennis’s pants right off. The five fingers that stealthily slid down to his cheeks were arrogant and shameless. Dennis couldn’t understand why Vittorio had burst out laughing. He was just sick and tired of Vittorio’s nonchalance as he squeezed his buttocks as if to burst them.

“You seem accustomed to being disciplined.”

The large hand that came out from his trousers grabbed Dennis’s pants and pulled them down. Dennis’s body trembled at the sensation of the fabric scraping against his skin. As the long restraint was released, he flipped Dennis’s body over in one motion. Along with a pungent smell of urine, Dennis’s half-erect member rose into the air.

Look at this. Vittorio grinned as if mocking him.

Soon, as if genuinely proud of him, Vittorio bit down on Dennis’s thin shoulder. Before he could even feel the pain in his shoulder, Dennis, who had been staring blankly at his member, reached out to pull up his pants.

This time, Vittorio left him alone. Dennis sprang up from his embrace and hurriedly pulled his trousers up. Vittorio watched him from a distance.

“Apart from it being amusing, I don’t feel particularly pleased.”

“…”

“Because it means you’ve been touched by another man’s hand…”

With his back to him, Dennis swallowed a curse as he put his sticky pants back on. Vittorio’s low voice made this place feel like an extension of a nightmare.

Dennis rolled up his sleeves. He was trying his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his fingertips. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but first, he wanted to go back to his room and soak his body. If it was a shame that could never be washed away, drowning himself would be one way to go.

Dennis took off the vest, which had dried spots of vomit on it, and looked at the door.

“Leaving?”

Are you saying I should roll around on the classroom floor with you forever, Dennis shot back, clutching the vest desperately. A rare light appeared in Dennis’s eyes as he realized that Vittorio’s hand axe, which had mercilessly chopped up the cabinet, was nearby.

“I brought some interesting news.”

“…”

“You fainted without even listening, and now you’re even treating the messenger with contempt.”

“Tell me.”

Now. Vittorio was smiling nonstop, as if Dennis, who was trying hard to feign arrogance, was ridiculous. Since his intention was unknown, it must be a sneer. He must find it quite amusing, the way he’s talking back like this despite having wet himself in his arms.

Dennis, who had habitually clenched his fist, opened his hand once more due to the nagging pain.

“Dennis Kahler…”

“…”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Vittorio’s fingertips tapping the floor seemed subtly irritated. The rhythm cutting across the quiet classroom was somehow familiar. Dennis, who had been listening to it without realizing, suddenly raised his head.

“The rumor was rampant that Quachi made someone young enough to be his son wash his balls.”

“Vittorio.”

“That yesterday you impregnated some family’s hen, and that sometimes at banquets you would drop your pants and spin in place for Quachi… It was very disappointing.”

“That kind of rumor…”

“Yes, not a single one turned out to be true.”

“…”

“If it were you, the moment you heard such an order from Quachi, you would have bitten off that old man’s testicles.”

It was impossible to tell if it was advocacy or provocation. Should he feel grateful for being judged as he was? Dennis looked down at him with an unreadable expression.