Bailonz Street 13

A head buried in a pillow is visible. Labored breathing is audible. …So he was just sleeping, not waiting. Seeing his neatly folded clothes, he must have been conscious until then, though he fell asleep right after. Anyway, the man looked neat.

Suppressing a smile, I grabbed a book and climbed into bed next to him.

He seemed deeply asleep. I called his name just in case, but he didn’t wake up. If there was a loud noise, he would certainly wake up startled, but I had no intention of disturbing his sleep. Turning on the small bedside lamp, I turned the pages of my book.

I couldn’t get the thought of that monster out of my mind. Liam Moore said it would be better for my health to forget it, but can one control their mind like that? The image of it throwing me aside was still vivid. My heart races again. My breathing quickens. I was so powerless in front of that non-human creature that I couldn’t even fire a shot properly. How did Liam manage it?

‘Could he possibly not be human either?’

Suddenly, I looked at Liam Moore with a sly glance, chilled by the thought. He was still deeply asleep. I could hear his breathing and see his body moving slightly. He was breathing and had body heat, so he couldn’t be anything other than human.

I remembered the first time we shared this flat. He clearly said he was a light sleeper, but it didn’t seem so now.

“Liam,” I called softly. He didn’t wake up. His disheveled black hair covered his forehead, and his stern eyebrows were relaxed like a gentle lamb’s. His eyelids didn’t twitch. He wasn’t pretending to sleep.

After staring at his cheek for a while, I reached out and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.

The man stirred and curled up. Watching him, my panic gradually subsided.

I need to forget. I really shouldn’t dwell on it. I sincerely hoped I would never encounter that thing again.

＊ ＊ ＊

In the morning, I was awakened by a knock on the door.

I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but I felt refreshed as if I had slept for over ten hours. I squinted for a moment and placed my hand on my forehead. Sunlight was streaming in through the partly lowered canopy.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I turned my head and saw Liam Moore’s face right next to mine. We had been at quite a distance, so when did he get this close? Was it because he was cold? But the inside of the blanket was very warm, so he probably didn’t feel the chill.

There was another knock. I wanted to stay in bed longer. I got up and put on a thick robe.

What time was it? I looked around to check what time this impudent visitor was waking us up. The in-game time was still not showing. It seemed the function was completely broken. I had no choice but to take out my pocket watch. 8 o’clock. We had more than enough time to get up and have breakfast.

“…I’m coming.”

Worried that this visitor might wake Liam, I replied as I walked to the door.

When I opened the door, a familiar middle-aged man stood there. It was Herschel Hopkins. He poked his head in briefly to check if Liam was awake, but unfortunately, Liam Moore was still sound asleep.

“Miss Jane,” he whispered, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

I hesitated, wondering if I should leave Liam. Would he be surprised to wake up and find me gone?

“Liam is still asleep. We might have to eat a bit later.”

Herschel smiled cheerfully.

“He’s always been a late riser since he was a child.”

“…Really?”

No way. He really doesn’t sleep much. I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at what he said next.

“He’s just pretending.”

“My goodness.”

I couldn’t imagine Liam Moore as a young, sleepy child.

He seemed like someone who was born an adult. No matter how I thought about it, I could only imagine him saying, “Mother, good morning. Did you sleep well last night?” The first thing he would say after learning to read would be, “I’ve identified the culprit of this case!” He would probably call his peers “thou” in an old-fashioned way. He must have been an easy child to raise, never getting into trouble and always being loved by adults.

“When he was a child? Liam Moore as a child? How old?”

Herschel quietly held up nine fingers.

No way. I pictured a small boy with black hair up to my waist.

“Wait a moment. I’ll change my clothes and be right out.”

Suppressing my laughter, I closed the door. I had to hear this. My annoyance at having my morning disturbed melted away with the story of Liam Moore that I didn’t know.

I hurriedly put on new clothes and stepped out of the room. If I stayed inside any longer, I would surely start giggling at his face, whether he was awake or not. Liam Moore as a child!

As I walked to the dining car with Herschel, I broached the topic.

“…What was he like? Liam Moore at nine years old.”

“Oh, Miss Jane. Let’s hope that opening this Pandora’s box isn’t a mistake.”

“Considering that curiosity is what kills most people, I think your warning is appropriate, Professor. But I’m still curious.”

I was a bit worried. After hearing this, how could I face Liam? I felt like an incredible story was waiting for me.

Herschel smiled contentedly at my cheeky answer. He looked like a professor who had found a promising new student, handing them three pomegranate seeds and dragging them into graduate school….

We soon found a vacant seat and sat down. As soon as we settled in, Herschel began his tale.

“So… it was about twenty years ago. I was in my mid-thirties when I heard from a friend that his son was causing all sorts of trouble. At that time, I had just started teaching at Cambridge as a professor, so I used the vacation to visit his house.”

A scene unfolded. An unfamiliar landscape. Idyllic green meadows, salty sea breezes blowing in.

“Mr. Moore’s father was a classmate of mine in college, a renowned archaeologist. After marrying his wife, he stopped traveling around different regions, but he had a passionate and strong adventurer’s spirit. Just as I was getting married, we made a promise to be godfathers to each other’s children. Unfortunately, I had no children, but Arthur had a son he was raising….”

＊ ＊ ＊

The carriage rocked gently. I was inside it, sitting opposite Herschel, seeing through his eyes. In front of me, a still young man (who already had some gray in his hair) held a fedora in his hand, gazing out the window.

The man had received a letter. Arthur Moore. From his friend.

[Dear Herschel,

As you know, raising a child in this beautiful coastal area is nothing short of a blessing.

But lately, Liam has been having issues. I don’t want to simply call it a problem. We are first-time parents, but I don’t want to diminish what Liam is going through by calling it ‘just a first-time issue’. We don’t want to see him as a troublemaker. He is our beloved son, and that will never change.

Considering you deal with many young people at the university, you might be able to provide meaningful help to our child. The tutors have all been driven away by him within days. We don’t want to hurt him further. We need your help.

– Your old friend, Arthur Moore.]

Herschel recited the letter verbatim.

A distant cliff came into view, dark blue waves crashing below. This place had more meadows than mountains. The mansion stood on a slightly elevated area. It was far more beautiful than the Stranden Estate. There was a well-paved road for carriages. The gardens on either side were beautifully maintained.

As the carriage approached, a guard at the entrance opened the gate. Slowly driving along the path, I saw forests and lakes. All within the estate grounds.

The lake was shrouded in morning mist, but it would soon dissipate under the sunlight. The beautifully constructed stone mansion had one side filled with numerous windows, and the roof was dotted with small towers. Arthur Moore affectionately called this place “Nifoisse Hall” because, in winter, the entire mansion would be blanketed in white snow.

Arthur Moore stood at the entrance with a fountain to greet us.

The horses came to a halt. Herschel had been ready to disembark even before the carriage stopped and jumped out as soon as it did. The two black-haired men facing each other looked like brothers.

Upon seeing Arthur Moore, I immediately thought, ‘This is what Liam will look like when he gets older.’

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