# Chapter 29
Zenon found her annoying. To begin with, Fenil was simply too tall. A woman who was 180cm? On top of that, due to her mercenary background, her already impressive height appeared even more substantial because of her muscles.
So it was only natural that he, despite exceeding the average height for men in their country, couldn’t match her.
And yet Fenil kept teasing him about it.
“I’m never asking again.”
“That was fun.”
“What?”
“I thought it wouldn’t be fun, but it was. I liked it.”
Zenon tilted his head momentarily at her words that didn’t match the situation, but with Fenil’s following statement, he could understand her meaning.
“Shouldn’t vacations naturally be fun?”
“This vacation wasn’t for me.”
“Then who was it for?”
There was no way Fenil would volunteer for anything. She was someone who wouldn’t do any work without compensation. Wasn’t she someone who thoroughly pursued profit?
For such a person to do something for others… Zenon’s skeptical gaze swept over her. Facing his look with confidence, Fenil smiled and said:
“Believe it or not, I’m a person who has emotional attachments. Sometimes, you know, I can help others.”
Emotional attachments? Was there a word less fitting for her? Zenon, not hiding his incredulous expression, rolled his eyes briefly as if contemplating.
She wouldn’t have suddenly decided to become a hero. Then it must be someone precious to her.
“You had someone that important to you?”
Though he’d known Fenil for over five years, she was generally indifferent to others. She knew everything but always observed from a spectator’s perspective.
Everything in her view must have seemed like an endless play. Zenon couldn’t believe that such a Fenil had someone precious to her.
“Yes, as it turns out, I do.”
“Who is it?”
As Fenil murmured softly as if she herself had just realized it, Zenon immediately asked. But she simply stroked his head again without revealing the answer.
“There is such a person.”
“…Wow, that’s unfair.”
“That’s just how people are. Besides, I consider you quite precious too.”
Zenon’s pouty lips were retracted at Fenil’s following words. His body, which had frozen as if he’d heard something absurd, relaxed.
“M-me too?”
Zenon stammered in his bewilderment. Seeing him like that, Fenil withdrew her hand that had been patting his head.
“Otherwise, why would I just be standing here watching you?”
“…”
As soon as Fenil finished speaking, a cold silence descended in the hallway. The light-hearted atmosphere was replaced by a tense one. Expressions gradually vanished from Zenon’s face.
“…You knew?”
In the silence that seemed endless, he asked. His mouth became dry, and his hands sweaty. He hadn’t thought she would know.
Surely, the plan should have been perfect. Zenon’s eyes trembled uncontrollably. Looking at his eyes that clearly revealed his fear, Fenil gave a bitter smile.
“How could I not know?”
She had known Zenon’s true identity for a long time. But Fenil hadn’t informed the Boss.
The reason was simple.
Because if she did, he would die. Fenil didn’t want Zenon to die. She knew that, unlike at the beginning, he was now not acting of his own volition.
Zenon must have been living with constant self-reproach. She had decided to trust him.
“But it wasn’t what you wanted.”
At the confident words filled with trust, Zenon’s body froze. By the time he could finally move his stiff body, his vision had become blurry.
Zenon’s eyes welled up with tears. He bowed his head, deliberately hiding his contorted expression.
“Why are you so…”
Kind. The last word was swallowed without coming out. He couldn’t understand. Anyone would see that he was a being who deserved to die. Someone who rightfully should die.
Yet she said she would trust him. Him, who had already committed irreversible acts.
It wasn’t just Fenil. “Alice” was too kind. Those labeled as evil by the world were good to him. A warm, infinitely warm goodness.
That warmth sometimes made it hard to breathe. He thought he had become accustomed to the darkness without a single point of light, but it kept making him greedy.
Greedy to touch that light. He should have discarded such useless emotions long ago.
He was confused. He no longer knew what to do. If his identity was discovered, the best course of action would be to return to his original place.
But Zenon didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to do anything anymore. He just wanted to live as Zenon, a member of “Alice.”
“I’m sorry.”
His voice, heavy with tears, was carefully delivered to Fenil. Even this word felt sinful. Every word he uttered seemed to choke him.
Why could he only do this much? All he could do was stay still. He was too afraid to do anything more.
Fenil, who had been looking at the crumbling Zenon with a complicated expression, extended a comforting hand. Her hand lightly patted his back.
“Apologize to Kay. If you don’t do it now, you’ll regret it forever.”
At Fenil’s calm words, as if it was nothing to her, Zenon recalled him from his memories.
Until now, he simply couldn’t tell Kay the truth. After all, Kay trusted him. Even though Kay became suspicious after the hidden camera incident, he still trusted Zenon.
How could he convey the truth to someone like that? Zenon didn’t have the courage. It would have been better if Kay had killed him without hesitation.
But Zenon was certain that Kay wouldn’t do that. Instead, he would be hurt and turn that arrow towards himself. Zenon didn’t have the courage to face such a Kay.
However, as Fenil said, if he didn’t tell him, he would regret it.
Though still fearful and scared, he didn’t want to regret anymore. Calmly organizing his scattered thoughts, Zenon took a slow, deep breath.
He had already had countless regrets. So, this time, he couldn’t afford to regret.
“…I will.”
Zenon, his fists clenched so tightly that both hands trembled, made a resolution. His eyes, stained with tears, shone straight. After this mission, he would confess everything to Kay. Even if Kay wouldn’t forgive him.
* * *
I confessed. I told him my feelings, something I couldn’t even think of in the past.
At first, I couldn’t believe it at all. I spent time in my room, dazed, watching the sun rise.
Only when that time had seeped into my mind and reached its limit could I come to my senses.
And I realized one thing.
The fact that the Boss did not answer me.
At that moment, I was so preoccupied with conveying my emotions that I didn’t properly observe his reaction. My mind was rigid with the mere fact that I had confessed. I couldn’t even remember how I got to this place.
But as my halted thoughts gradually began to flow, the situation back then started to come back to me in detail.
Clearly, I confessed to him. Afraid to look at the Boss’s face, I bowed my head and conveyed my feelings.
But he gave me no answer. He just stared at me blankly and then left the meeting room.
“…”
As pieces of memory began to surface one by one, my hands, gripping the blanket, tensed involuntarily.
No matter how much I tried to recall, there were no words from the Boss. Not even the typical rejection came from his lips.
This was my first time confessing. But I could understand well enough how he regarded my confession.
The Boss thought my words weren’t even worth answering.
If emotions had physical form, mine would be in tatters by now. My heart plummeted into an endless abyss.
“Why…”
How could you be so cruel? Was that confession so wrong? Just this once, I had hoped he would be kind.
I had hoped he would give me even the smallest warmth. But all that came back was a chilling silence.
My ten years shattered miserably before him. The pieces, broken beyond recognition, flowed into an endless abyss.
I thought I couldn’t feel any more despair. Yet, his coldness hurt more than being told I had a terminal illness.
The silence seemed to steal away what little time I had left. I didn’t ask for much.
I just wanted him to acknowledge this feeling, even a little. That was all. But you won’t even grant that simple wish.
I was afraid that this aspect of the Boss wouldn’t change even after my death.
I was terribly afraid of him, who would just pass over my death.
* * *
Like sand slipping between fingers, my time too dwindled rapidly. Meanwhile, I worked frantically.
The thought of disappearing had long faded. There wasn’t much time left until we rescued Alice. Now was the time to focus on the mission rather than my body.
My injured wrist was a problem, but thanks to training, the pain wasn’t severe. Even now, carrying a pile of documents, I only felt a dull ache.
I opened the door, holding a mountain of documents. I approached Alex, who was examining other documents while wearing glasses. With a thud, the documents landed on the desk.
At the sight of the large volume, Alex’s expression momentarily turned pale. It was a face full of the meaning: when am I supposed to review all this?
“Please, by the end of this week.”
“Hmm… I’ll try.”
He muttered like a sigh, glancing at the calendar on the desk. As if he didn’t even want to check, Alex turned his gaze away from the pile of documents and looked at me.
