Not wanting to drag this out any longer, Sorn sat on the bed and removed the mask that covered half of his face.
"Oh Lord, Dean, you inhuman bastard, how could you punch such a precious face like this!"
Hilda quickly grabbed a fresh pair of gloves and put them on before gently and carefully touching Sorn's face with the tips of her fingers.
"Huh?! I didn't intend to hit him eithert, Ralf told me not to! But I had no choice, you know. If I didn't fight back, he would've killed me! Do you think my face isn't precious? Look at my handsome face—it's all bruised!"
Hearing Dean's protest, Hilda's face scrunched up in irritation. She snorted, then retrieved medical supplies from the shelf, pulling out some cotton and a bottle of alcohol. With care, she dabbed at the cut on the corner of his lip. From Hilda's reaction, she didn't seem to recognize Sorn's face, which brought him a bit of relief.
Sorn stayed silent while the bruise was treated with a thick liquid—he didn't even know what it was—but Hilda was a doctor, so he let her skillful hands do whatever they needed to his skin. Sorn's glance darted between the two men in the room, sincerely baffled by why these two buffoons were merely standing there, silently watching him being tended to. When his eyes lingered on Ralf briefly, Ralf caught on and let out a chuckle.
"What's on your mind, Sorn?"
Ralf inquired, while Hilda silently mouthed an "oh" and then murmured, "So, your name is Sorn."
Frowning, Sorn rolled his eyes. "I just don't get why you two are watching me."
"Haha, I just wanted to keep an eye on you for a bit, to admire your beautiful face a little longer... I won't be around tomorrow due to some business so I need to recharge my energy....."
This lunatic always finds a way to say something embarrassing so casually.
"Are you watching over me because you still don't trust me? Are you afraid I'll run away after knocking out your doctor?"
Ralf's eyes widened before he burst into laughter. Hilda, who had just finished and was throwing the cotton balls into a small trash bin, laughed too, adding with a grin, "Do you want to hit me?" Sorn quickly shook his head in response.
"It's simple, I just don't want you alone in this room with a woman. What if you start flirting with her? That's a definite no, I won't allow that. That's the second reason though. The first reason is that I want to see your face. I'm not kidding."
Everyone in the room made faces of disgust at Ralf's statements. Apparently, despite their long acquaintance with their leader, they still hadn't become accustomed to his eccentricity. Sorn continued to study the man, unable to look away, as if trying to understand what had enabled him to survive and build a group of devoted followers. Was it his immunity to the zombie virus? He wanted to ask, but according to Dean, it was meant to be kept secret.
"I'll leave him here with you, Hilda. Take care of him... And Sorn, why are you looking at me like that?" Ralf raised an eyebrow, as he too had been staring at Sorn, as if unwilling to lose in this staring contest.
"There's something I want to ask. I want to talk to you in a more private place."
"Hm, I know there are many things on your mind now. Maybe we can talk later, once I'm done, just the two of us... I'll call for you, so wait for me ... Haha, I'm actually a bit eager for that. Talking alone with you... hm... doesn't that sound like a date?"
"Don't make it weird."
"I'm just excited, that's all."
"Weirdo."
"Haha, anyway, wait for me, and don't do anything unnecessary."
As if realizing he'd been there for too long, Ralf excused himself to leave. "I'm leaving Sorn in your care, Hilda. Sorn, If there's anything you want to know, you can ask Dean."
The man left just like that, with a frustratingly playful grin.
*
'He refused me again, Ralf.'
Again.
Ralf's hands, which had been typing on his laptop, paused. He had heard the door open and the sound of footsteps entering his office. The room he occupied wasn't one that just anyone could enter, so he already had an idea of who it would be.
Matthew, whom Ralf had dispatched to bring Mad Lucifer to his hideout, returned again, empty-handed. Over the past month, Ralf had lost track of how many times he'd received the same report— his offer had been turned down. Repeatedly, he should have given up and accepted the refusal, but as if "quit" wasn't in his dictionary, Ralf continued to laugh ironically and sent Matthew back to try once more.
And now, Matthew was exhausted. He knew what was going to come out of Ralf's mouth, so he spoke first before the man could say anything that would make him repeat the tiresome task he was already sick of doing.
'If you want him so badly, wouldn't it be better if we just brought him in by force?'
Ralf leaned back further into his chair, leisurely swaying his legs and furrowing his brow.
It wasn't a plan that hadn't crossed his mind. However, Ralf was reluctant to use it— he hoped the man would come of his own accord. If that happened, perhaps the heavy, dark feelings in his heart would lighten, even just a bit. If the man approached him willingly, with those beautiful legs of his, Ralf could create the illusion that it was the start of resolving the long-standing, childish grudge that had been festering within him.
'... Don't bring him by force,' Ralf murmured softly, his eyes staring into the air before finally settling on Matthew. 'He has to come to me on his own. Besides, are you so confident you could bring him here by force, Matthew? Chances are, your hand would be broken before you even touched him.'
Taking a seat on the sofa, Matthew exhaled wearily. He undid two buttons on his shirt and raised an eyebrow at that comment, recalling how he'd been outright rejected countless times by the Mad Lucifer, whose attitude reminded him of a wild cat ready to claw at any moment. Then he let out a bitter laugh.
'You're right, even those two-colored eyes of his are spine-chilling. Ugh...'
Matthew coughed, his body had felt somewhat hot for a while, and he was sweating more than usual.
'Meet him again next week.'
'Ugh, it seems he's planning to head east.'
'Hm, east? Isn't that dangerous zone ... Did you tell him to go somewhere safer?'
'I told him, but you'd have to see for yourself how stubborn he is. Ack, ugh... damn, I think I've caught a cold. My throat feels dry. Is Hilda downstairs?'
Ralf observed Matthew, who was coughing heavily— thinking that it was amazing that even a man as large as Matthew could get sick. Considering that winter was almost here, it wasn't surprising that the man he kept sending out had fallen ill. His thoughts automatically turned to the platinum blonde-haired man who spent his time slaughtering zombies out there. How would he survive the winter if he kept refusing to come to Ralf's place?
He was very stubborn. Ralf knew that well—someone who was only soft when it came to his beloved younger sister.
'Okay, you can stop approaching him for a while and take a rest. I'll send Dean to meet Mad Lucifer. And did you give him the food and jacket I left with you?'
Hearing this, Matthew's face brightened, though his complexion was pale. 'I gave him everything, those were the only things he never refused.'
'Good.'
'But Ralf, I'm glad I can rest, it's just... are you sure about sending Dean? You know, even though he looks like a dumb mutt, I wouldn't describe him as patient.'
If Dean interacted with Mad Lucifer, there was a chance that one of them would definitely get hurt.
'... Oh, your hesitation about Dean reminds me that he likes men. How could I forget... maybe I should send Emil instead?'
Matthew vigorously waved his hand, a puzzled expression on his face. 'I don't think it's possible that Dean could like Mad Lucifer. No way, even if he likes men, you know what his taste is like.'
'Yeah, not all gay people like every man they see... but isn't it too risky...'
'Ralf...'
'What if Dean ends up flirting with Mad Lucifer? Ah, I don't want that to happen...'
The man in front of him, slouched with his head resting in his hands, was the leader of their group. At moments like this, when he acted so childishly, Matthew found it hard to believe that this man with jet-black hair was the same leader renowned for his intelligence and strategic prowess.
'I don't think that would happen. I'm more worried they might end up in a fight.'
'No, no, that can't happen either! Hurting Mad Lucifer's face is a disgraceful act! I won't let that happen. I must make sure Dean understands not to harm Mad Lucifer.'
'.....'
'Ah-ah, I'd be so sad if his beautiful face got even a single scratch.'
This madman talks as if he knows what the man's face looks like, but even just seeing his heterochromatic eyes gives me chills, Matthew muttered to himself. Whatever. He wiped the sweat gathering on his forehead, frowning as he felt a throbbing in his head. He needed to take medicine before his condition worsened. 'Alright, if you're going to send Dean, you'd better warn him... after all, Dean is very obedient when it comes to your orders.'
Throwing one last glance at Ralf before stepping toward the door, he noticed how the man was humming a random tune while pulling something out of his desk drawer—a poster he couldn't quite see the details of.
'I'll go see Hilda now. Excuse me.'
The man just waved at him and casually wished him a speedy recovery, then returned his attention to the poster. His eyes were consistently somber, even if his face remained blank. It was rare for Matthew to see Ralf in this state, except when he was gazing at that poster. Although Matthew wasn't particularly curious, it must be something that provoked emotions in a man who typically only showed himself through shameless comments and carefree laughter, seemingly untroubled by anything. Seeing Ralf like this was noticeably out of character.
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(Last part of X chapter)