Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 4.2
A faint smile spread across Ryan’s lips.
At that moment, murmurs began to ripple through the crowd.
“But didn’t Lord Esteban cough up blood earlier? Could the rumors about him having a fatal illness be true?”
“Now that you mention it, I heard he takes some kind of medicine every day.”
“Don’t tell me… is he really dying? Oh my. Maybe that’s why he kept tormenting Pascius. He’s wasting away while his disciple is growing stronger, wouldn’t that make anyone jealous?”
The voices speaking ill of Cielo gradually grew louder.
Irritated by the noise, Ryan shot them a sharp glare. His red eyes gleamed as if he might pounce on them at any moment. Under his threatening gaze, they quickly covered their mouths.
“A-hem, yes, that’s right. Didn’t I have something scheduled today? I’m running late!”
“Sh-shall we go?”
Those watching Ryan’s expression awkwardly shuffled out of the clinic one by one.
As they left, disdain flickered in Ryan’s red eyes, but quickly faded.
“…Cielo.”
But only for a moment.
Turning his gaze, Ryan looked silently at the spot where Cielo had been.
Bloodstains, not yet cleaned, still remained on the floor.
‘Is he really… sick?’
When was the last time they’d spoken?
It felt like an eternity—so long that it was hard to even remember.
He had thought that he’d go to his grave without ever exchanging words with Cielo again.
Yet, that very person had healed him.
“Does this mean… you’ve forgiven me?”
A desperate voice slipped from between his lips.
He wanted to get up right now and run to Cielo. He wanted to grab him by the shoulders and ask why—why he had helped him.
‘I have to hold back.’
If he didn’t want to be hated again.
As Ryan clenched his fists tightly, a faint trace of hope appeared on his face.
A fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Cielo could be like they were before.
* * *
‘I’m going to die.’
How long had it been since he narrowly escaped death?
Cielo clutched his chest, curled up, and let out a ragged breath.
The pain in his chest, which had started when he coughed up blood, still hadn’t subsided.
Every inhale felt suffocating, and every exhale sent jolts of pain through him.
No matter how he looked at it, this wasn’t a normal condition.
“Master, are you not feeling well…?”
Oscar asked with an anxious expression.
It was partly out of concern, but also partly out of self-preservation—because Cielo tended to be much more irritable on days when he didn’t feel well.
“I’m fine. I really am.”
He needed to figure out why he was sick, but right now it was more urgent to stabilize his body.
Up until now, it had just been chest pain, but now chills were creeping in as well.
“Should I… prepare a bath for you?”
Seeing Cielo shakily pull the blanket over himself and shiver, Oscar asked cautiously.
Would soaking in warm water help, even a little?
Cielo tried to get up on his own, but eventually turned to look at Oscar.
“S-sorry, Oscar. Would you mind helping me?”
“H-helping you? What do you mean! Of course I’ll help. That’s what I’m here for! J-just a moment! I’ll get the water ready right away!”
Oscar’s voice noticeably brightened as he answered, lowering himself to crawl toward the bathroom.
“Oscar.”
“Y-yes, Master?”
“You can walk normally now.”
Oscar’s eyes widened in surprise.
Cielo paused, wondering how to word things, then finally spoke after a moment of silence.
“When you move without a sound, I never know where you are. I always have to go looking for you.”
“Ah… I understand, Master.”
Oscar calmly responded, then intentionally made louder noises as he moved to the bathroom.
Though he usually moved like a ghost—no footsteps, no presence—he now deliberately made
noise while walking and even when opening the door.
Watching him, Cielo let out a soft chuckle.
But it didn’t last.
Soon after, another wave of pain washed over him, and a groan escaped his lips once more.
‘It hurts…’
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
