Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 87.1
“…You’re late.”
Typhon spoke slowly.
It was a stark contrast to how he had scolded Cielo just a few days ago with his sharp voice.
It wasn’t simply that he looked tired. The hair that had once reflected the sky was now tinted gray, and his once-bright blue eyes had dulled.
He had changed, as if he had aged several decades in just a matter of days.
Typhon, who had been looking at the faces of those standing in front of the mansion one by one, turned his gaze to Ryan and Oscar.
No—his eyes were fixed on Cielo, whom they were shielding behind them.
“How curious…”
Typhon murmured softly, then took a deep breath and bared his teeth in a smile.
“Aire is waiting inside.”
“…”
“I’ve prepared a meal, so come in.”
With a gentle expression, Typhon slowly turned his back and headed back inside the mansion.
Sol frowned slightly as he watched Typhon’s retreating figure.
“Is that really… our father?”
He seemed like a completely different person. His tone, his gait—even the way he looked at his children was utterly unlike the man he had been just a short while ago.
“…Right? He’s saying things he’s never said in his life.”
Though they had never received affection—or even attention—from their father, the twins had always watched Typhon with their eyes.
They knew his words, his mannerisms, and his expressions better than anyone else, and yet the man they just saw felt like a stranger.
“Even the way he carries himself feels completely different. Before, he never gave off this kind of pressure.”
Oscar nodded, agreeing with the twins.
The change in appearance was one thing, but the very aura radiating from his body was now something else entirely.
“…For now, let’s go in.”
Cielo spoke briefly, then took a deep breath.
Whether Typhon had changed or not, he needed to get close to deal with him.
As Cielo took the lead and stepped forward, Ryan and Oscar followed close behind, guarding him.
The deeper they went into the mansion, the more rigid Cielo’s expression became.
What lay inside was a scene so horrific it defied words.
With each step, the puddles of blood squelched underfoot, and an indescribable, sticky sensation clung to his entire body.
‘Disgusting…’
As nausea surged, he gripped his sword tighter. A faint freshness radiated from the blade, helping to shake off the repulsive feeling clinging to him.
“Is it really because of the sword?”
Then what about the others who aren’t carrying one?
With that thought, he turned to Oscar and saw him staring at the mansion floor with a look of utter revulsion.
“How could someone do something like this…?”
“Hmm?”
“…Where did everyone else go?”
When they had last visited the Esteban mansion, there had been more people than they could count. But now, not a single person was visible—not even the slightest hint of presence.
To that question, Typhon, who had been walking ahead, turned and silently studied Oscar.
“You’re not from the Esteban family.”
“…?”
“Neither are you.”
Typhon looked at Ryan next and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Well then, how about this? You two can go outside and play with the adorable children for a bit.”
“…”
“From here on, this is a matter for the Esteban family. I’d prefer if outsiders didn’t interfere.”
With that, Typhon grinned, baring his teeth, and a chilling wind blew from the top of the stairs, brushing past Ryan and Oscar.
“Master!”
“Cielo!”
An invisible force suddenly yanked the two men and hurled them outside the mansion.
“Oscar! Ryan!”
Cielo turned around in shock, but the front doors slammed shut on their own.
No matter how much he pushed, they refused to open.
“Don’t worry. There are plenty of things for the kids to play with in the garden.”
Typhon, voice thick with amusement, began walking again.
Outside, a clap of thunder roared—it was the sound of Oscar using his ability.
“Now that the distractions are gone… shall we go see Aire?”
With that, Typhon slowly made his way toward the kitchen.
Unlike Cielo, who stepped back with a pale face, Sol and Pielago began to follow him blankly.
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