The Villainess Returns with a System-Chapter 101: Plague (1)
Chapter 101: Plague (1)
With a large puff of smoke, Morris exhaled as he watched the sunrise from the top of the power plant’s roof. On his left arm was a myriad of tattoos, similar to the ones inked by seafarers, each of which had a meaning, a story, or a brush with death.
The first tattoo he ever had was when he was 14, the one at the top of his forearm, and it depicts his first journey. The first time he sailed on the sea, it depicted the sea, the sun, the birds, the islands, and the palm trees, all framed by his ship’s window. This is the first Chapter of Morris’s story and one that was famously known about him, his first journey, the one that made him what he is.
But it was all a lie; this wasn’t the first Chapter of his story by any means. His childhood was just as eventful as his adulthood, and he came from a really troublesome background. If not for the sacrifice of his mother, he wouldn’t have lived to be Morris De Brosa. This was depicted by his second tattoo, the one of a woman dressed in black and a naked child tattooed in reverse, sleeping soundly inside her dress.
Morris’s arm was a tapestry of inked stories, some true, some embellished. A compass, once a symbol of misdirection, now marked his path. Sails, once embraced by the Kraken’s tentacles, spoke of battles survived. Gilded pistols, trophies taken from a vanquished foe, served as a reminder of both victory and vulnerability. Amidst these tales of adventure lay a simpler image: a dahlia flower, a round table, and a broken crown, their meaning a mystery left untold.
Morris wasn’t a fan of showing off his tattoos to strangers; thus, as he felt a presence coming close behind him, he covered his arm and hid the journal in which he was scribbling a new drawing on.
"I’ve been looking for you, Sir Morris."
A masculine voice spoke as a wavy-haired tall man approached him. Looking back at Logan, who was carrying two plates filled with food, Morris turned with a smile and faced his new friend.
"You keep holding up honorifics as if they mean something. Call me by my name already," Morris said as he received a plate from Logan.
"It is not every day one becomes friendly with a man of your renown," Logan argued, but seeing how Morris became uncomfortable, Logan decided to go with the flow, "Alright... Morris."
"What is this?" Morris asked, raising his plate up.
"Our breakfast, pastries, courtesy of Miss Esmeralda. You would be surprised at what she can make with whatever she finds," Logan replied.
"I smell some cumin and black seed oil," Morris smelled the small piece he picked up before tasting it, "And that’s some cheese in the baking."
"I don’t know what it is called, but I am getting addicted to this," Logan commented.
"It is nice indeed."
"Ah! Here’s some Hopps!"
"Cheers!"
Logan passed a bottle of soda to Morris, and the two had a few seconds of silence drinking and eating as they watched the warm sun rise in the sky.
"So, what were you doing up here?" Logan asked.
"Not much, just sketching," Morris replied.
"Right... that’s basically your job."
"Indeed. I was thinking of a new idea since this image keeps coming to my mind."
Morris seemed a bit frustrated as he looked at the journal he left on the roof’s wall.
"May I?"
Logan asked for permission to take a look, and Morris nodded.
Just as Logan picked up the journal, he opened it and scanned the first few sketches drawn by a thin charcoal pencil. He noted how skillful and clean Morris’s drawing was, almost to the point of life-like precision. After skipping to the last page Morris scribbled over, the last sketch made Logan halt for a while and almost forget to breathe before forcing himself to do so a moment later.
Morris watched as Logan inhaled and exhaled heavily, and understood that Logan recognized what he was drawing.
It was a smile, nothing more, nothing less. No face around it, no other expressions, no specific details. Just that feminine smile alone would make anyone freeze with fear, certainly not for the faint of heart. Even Logan couldn’t bear looking at it any longer and closed the journal.
"Fuck!"
His reaction was that of a frustrated man with something on his mind. Morris realized that Logan had experienced that before.
"So... what do you think?" Morris asked.
"Those stupid fools, she was playing them like fiddles."
Hearing what Logan said, Morris could only retrieve his journal and look at the sketch one more time.
"Do you blame her? They would have kept coming after the workers if they were handed over to the law."
"I don’t... but killing... It is not the first solution a lady should take every time she is faced with trouble," Logan said, implying that this had happened before.
Morris was, of course, aware of the incident where Vivian had to kill to protect herself, a famous incident that solidified Vivian’s reputation as the gun-shooting young lady.
Still, it seemed that this thing had happened more than once, and Logan was fearing for Vivian putting herself in dangerous situations. On top of that, killing is not something that should be taken lightly.
"I understand your sentiment, Logan. Anyone would feel the same in a similar situation, but there is something you have overlooked," Morris said.
"What is it?" Logan asked.
"This is a savage world, Logan. To Vivian, there are people out to get her, as it seems; she needs to be ruthless. Loose ends are never a good thing."
"But..."
"No buts. You are a knight, bound by honour and duty. She is a leader; unlike you, she has a lot more responsibilities," Morris said as he faced the opposite direction from Logan and rested on the roof’s railing, "You wrestle, right?"
"In the academy, yes."
"And you know what they say in wrestling: play the game, not the man."
"Indeed."
"To people in power, it is the other way around. Play the man, not the game."
"..."
As Logan fell silent, Morris couldn’t help but sigh. For someone as young as Logan, it is hard to imagine the world this way. Morris, however, learned the game of power from a very young age, making the broken crown tattoo on his arm itch every time he remembers it.
"The world is indeed built upon many rules; only power can bend them. When you face someone with so much power, you better take every advantage you can get."
"That is depressing."
"That is the truth. Power is a rigged game; those who hold power tailor new rules for themselves to last in power a little bit longer. After some time, it all boils down to the laws of the jungle. The strong triumph, the weak perish."
"And the innocents?"
"Suffer and pay the price. If there are truly any innocents, that is."
Logan was still unable to accept the truth yet fully realizing that everything Morris said made perfect sense. Morris understood him and patted his back.
"I know you love her."
His words sent goosebumps through Logan’s body, but the latter didn’t let the jumpscare change his expressions.
"I am her knight, dammit!" Logan replied while looking away.
"A knight and a lady, isn’t this the most perfect romance ever?"
"She was engaged to the Prince."
"I heard he is quite the retard to let her go for a commoner."
"Her brother is my best friend."
"What best friend wouldn’t want the best man he knows for his sister?"
Seeing how Morris has a counter-argument for everything, Logan smiled and shook his head wryly.
"You’re too much, Morris."
"And all those excuses you said are actually the reason you should hold her dear and never let go," Morris encouraged Logan the same way a friend would, "But I understand that doing things when you are not emotionally prepared can invite trouble."
Morris let go of Logan’s shoulder and took one pace away before turning to him.
"You know, if you want to help her, I have something in mind," Morris said.
Logan looked at Morris and then turned to face him, saying:
"Help? How?"
"The first of the three rules of victory is Always Attack. The way I see it, Miss Moore is an aggressive attacker, but she is unable to attack a foe she can’t see."
"So?"
"I have some friends in Elgard from previous visits, ones that understand the power game the way I do. If I introduce you to them, they can point you to whoever is making trouble for Lady Vivian."
"Is that so?"
"They are people with deep pockets. I understand they are not the crowd you would or should get mixed in with, but I trust you can judge them better yourself if you wish to meet them."
"Hmmm." frёeωebɳovel.com
Logan thought for a while. He never suspected that Morris, a celebrity whose fame is continent-wide, would be a mole from a rogue organization that is trying to recruit Vivian, and the way Morris sees it, if he could reach Vivian through love, there would be no better chance for recruiting her through Logan.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
In the power plant facility, Vivian sent a report she wrote personally to the mansion right after sunrise. Aside from reporting that the power plant is ready to provide power for the new machinery in the experimental factory, she added a postscript that she had arrested a couple of thugs that were assaulting conglomerate workers in Willow Alley.
A noble, such as herself, holds some judicial power and can detain and interrogate criminals but must hand them to the police within 24 hours. While Vivian was now aware that it was the Blackguards who went after her, she wanted more information, and thus she kept two Blackguards alive.
Those two men were beaten badly by Logan and the agents in their attempt to capture Vivian, but she invited a physician to pull them back to a state where they could speak and held them in separate rooms under the facility.
She didn’t do interrogations personally; one of the Conglomerate agents reported to her that one of the prisoners’ health was rapidly deteriorating. He had been coughing and wheezing for almost an hour now.
Vivian didn’t want to catch any disease, so she ordered the two prisoners to be dragged out into an open area and had them tied down before taking a look at them. Indeed, one of them was in a pretty terrible condition, and the physicians advised her to keep clear of him in case he carried some sort of contagious disease.
Vivian then asked the other thug what was wrong with the former.
"I don’t know! Steve has been like that for a while. It is not infectious," said the second thug.
"All you Steves and Pauls are just trouble."
"What? How do you know my name?"
"Zip it!"
Vivian seemed anxious, but soon after, the physician came to her with his diagnosis. He said:
"My Lady, I don’t think this is something highly infectious. It rather seems like a parasite, so it is mostly not airborne."
This was a relief to hear that she hadn’t brought an infected patient into the factory.
"I don’t care about that criminal, but I need him to answer for his crimes and testify against whoever employed him," Vivian said with obvious indifference.
"As you see, my Lady, but this is not a disease I have dealt with before," the physician said.
"So? Can’t you give him anything to energize him? Parasites weaken the body, so he needs something strong."
"Well, that’s sound logic, my lady, but it seems this is something unique. I’d love more time to study this case more, if you don’t mind."
"For God’s sake!" Vivian didn’t have much free time and wanted to catch the Blackguards red-handed; she turned to the sick thug and spoke, "Hear that, you rapscallion thug? I’ll let the doctor here treat you out of your misery if you give me the name of your employer."
The two thugs looked at each other and looked away again. Vivian could surely kill and torture them in various ways, but if their tongues were to slip, they would be no longer Blackguards, and their families would starve... or worse.
The pair preferred to keep silent despite Vivian’s offer.
"With all due respect, my lady, if this disease is indeed infectious, it is wise to at least get a general understanding of it. Please, this can be vital to medicine," the physician implored Vivian to continue the treatment.
"You said it is not dangerous. It can wait." On the other hand, Vivian refused as she was about to leave.
"My lady, please, reconsider," the physician said, "If you just take a look here..."
He ran back to the thug and held him by his shirt before removing it upward. As the thug’s back was revealed, Vivian and those who were around her saw something bizarre.
What everyone saw were jagged lines with a deep black colour as if the blood underneath the skin was mixed with something terrible, but anyone with minimal anatomical education would know that there are no blood vessels of that shape in the human back.
From the look of it, it felt as if a crack was forming on the man’s back. The area around the rash was grey as if life was being absorbed from it and feeding whatever that black parasite thing was.
"At first, I thought this was something similar to necrosis, but what led me to believe it is a parasite is that this... let’s call it black rash... is something that is feeding on the host’s body and..."
"Whoa! Whoa! What the fuck is that?"
Opposite the physician, the other thug immediately freaked out. Everyone turned to him, but the next words he said made them all feel a sudden chill in their spines.
"Steve! This thing on your back, wasn’t it almost the size of a finger?" he asked.
"Wha... what?" The other man panicked and turned to his friend since he couldn’t see what it was, "What are you seeing?"
"Fuck, man! This thing is covering half your back!" the first replied.
Even the physician froze for a while, but he started asking questions right away, and nobody dared to stop him after hearing what the thug just said. In his statement, the thug stated that his friend was a bit tired all day yesterday, and was still tired even after eating and sleeping well.
While that is what most of the people present witnessed, Vivian had one notification flashing red and a quest popping up on her face.
It filled her heart with dread, and she didn’t know what to do but to stand there frozen.
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