The Saint Wants to Rest - Chapter 33.1
While Ian was alone with Vermouth, the air in the living room sat heavy and stagnant. Choi Jae-heon sat stiffly on the sofa with his arms crossed, glaring at the master bedroom door with fierce eyes. He looked ready to rush inside the moment anything happened.
It was Ian, just coming out of Vermouth’s room, who discovered him in that state.
“You should get some rest too.”
Ian voiced his concern for Choi Jae-heon, feigning nonchalance.
“I can’t sleep. More importantly, Ian, do not close that door all the way,” Choi Jae-heon muttered.
“We don’t know what might happen with the patient’s condition, so do not turn it into a sealed room. Leave it so I can spring inside immediately if something goes wrong.”
Hyung, are you really worried about the patient? It seems like you are worried about something else entirely. Even though he knew the truth, Ian nodded slowly.
“I understand. The patient needs stability, so just please stay quiet.”
After saying that, Ian headed toward the bathroom. Vermouth’s condition had improved slightly, and since Ian was continuously pouring Holy Power to the limit of his strength, he figured a short break would be fine. Thanks to his efforts, other living beings outside the house were also benefiting from the overflow of his power.
Choi Jae-heon’s gaze pierced sharply into Ian’s back as he walked away. Given that chilling intensity, it felt as though the moment Ian entered the room with Vermouth and locked the door, Jae-heon would tear the door off its hinges and intrude.
‘That means I have to give up on locking the door.’
To perform a treatment with that bastard, one that anyone else would surely misunderstand, without even locking the door? That required a great deal of mental preparation.
Ian turned on the faucet and washed his face. The cold water hitting his skin snapped him into focus. Fine, let’s just save Vermouth first. Whether I interrogate him or beat him up afterward, saving him is the priority right now.
Still, hoping that Choi Jae-heon might have fallen asleep, Ian came out a few times using errands as an excuse, but Jae-heon’s eyes remained wide open. What exactly is an S-class Awakened? How are they built to stay so perfectly alert through the night despite their exhaustion?
It was troublesome in many ways. There was no way to force Choi Jae-heon to sleep, either. Ultimately, Ian made a somewhat dangerous choice.
Entering the room where Vermouth lay, Ian closed the door naturally. However, he did not touch the lock. Consequently, it remained in a defenseless state where the door would open the moment someone turned the handle from the outside.
That fact made Ian’s heart race madly. His older brother, an S-class Awakened, was awake just on the other side of a single closed door. There was no worse situation than this.
The room was silent. The medical devices set up earlier that day hummed with a low noise as they ran, which offered at least a small amount of comfort.
Vermouth opened his eyes as if sensing Ian’s presence.
“I told you to just sleep if you are in pain.”
“How can I simply sleep when you are by my side? This is an opportunity that doesn’t come often.”
This guy. Seeing him act like this, Ian even suspected that he might have let his arm be torn off on purpose. But no matter how crazy someone was, they wouldn’t throw away their own arm like that.
‘Probably, right?’
Even his current state suggested as much. Although his voice was calm, cold sweat trickled down his temples. Considering the poison remaining in his body was writhing as if it were alive, the pain must have been immense.
Ian wished he would just scream in pain instead. But Vermouth did not even twitch an eyebrow. It was a terrifying level of composure. There had been times like this in Lancia as well. Even when he suffered major injuries, he acted the same as usual. But that didn’t mean he was actually fine.
Right now, Vermouth was barely holding on with Ian’s help.
“Does it hurt a lot?” Ian asked, unable to contain himself.
Spasms occurred in the severed part of the arm due to the poison, yet the fact that his expression did not change was staggering.
“It hurts,” Vermouth replied dryly. It was a nonchalant tone, as if he were saying, The weather is a bit hot today.
“It is a pain that feels as if the flesh is rotting and the bone is melting. But I am in front of Mr. Ian, am I not? I cannot let out unseemly screams. I must maintain my dignity as your knight.”
“Crazy bastard. If it hurts, show that it hurts. And why are you my knight? You are the Goddess’s knight.”
“So, are you not going to treat me?”
Vermouth turned his head to look at Ian. His violet eyes glowed alluringly in the darkness.
He knew. He knew that Ian could not resolve this toxic Poison of the Abyss just by holding hands. And in this place where they were alone, now that the door was closed, he had already calculated exactly what was about to happen.
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