Episode 22. Blue, Old, New (5)
Liam Moore smiled gently. His eyes, both round and sharp depending on the angle, slightly crinkled.
“You took a train since morning. You must be tired. I figured as much.”
“You should have woken me.”
“How could I touch a sleeping lady? That’s not what a gentleman does.”
Imitating Stranden’s rigid manner of speaking, he chuckled. I rubbed my cheek and massaged my stiff neck, muttering softly, “I see…”
I must have been very tired. How else could I have had such a disturbing dream? I was always consistent with my sleep schedule, so this disconcerted me a bit. Was it the shock of facing death right before my eyes? No, I don’t think that was it…
“Why, did something happen?”
Liam gestured. As I approached and slightly bent over, his large hand reached out and massaged the back of my neck. The tight muscles relaxed under his touch. He made a light joke about my neck being as hard as a stone. For a moment, the dream seemed to slip away from my memory.
I was tired of being so affected by the mere death of data made of zeros and ones, and by those strange dreams. Yet, why did I lean on this man who was just as much a part of the game?
Perhaps because these memories would disappear with a restart, and he would forget them? Or because I felt he might remain indifferent to even this?
I lifted my head, wanting to see his face. I wanted to know what expression he would have as he looked at me. And I was momentarily surprised by the unexpected result.
The man sat there with a face I had never seen before, his hand awkwardly raised and frozen.
“I had a nightmare.”
At my deliberately grumpy words, Liam quickly giggled. I seemed like I was sulking about the nightmare. But I didn’t bother to correct him because his usually cold face had softened, revealing a mischievous smile.
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Liam Moore was not easily shaken. He maintained an impassive expression regardless of emotions, events, or even life-threatening moments.
Because of this, those who knew him often mocked his cold nature with remarks like “cold-blooded,” “a miracle if he bleeds a drop,” and “blue blood.” The members of the social club (which had another name, Greenwich, and will be referred to as such hereafter) were close enough to offer him straightforward advice.
However, if asked who was the most critical of him, Liam Moore would choose his assistant.
Jane Osmond.
He remembered the day his current assistant barged into his office, clutching a newspaper ad. She stood straight, her chin slightly raised, exuding confidence.
He thought she wouldn’t last long. No ordinary person could endure the numerous corpses. His cases were filled with insidious and immense evils, sometimes threatening even him. It was only natural that assistants soon shuddered and left.
How many times had it been? He recalled and believed this confident young lady would soon quit as well.
But Jane Osmond did not. Throughout her stay, she showed enthusiasm in solving cases and displayed deep insights beyond what an ordinary person could. When she pieced together clues and completed her deductions, Liam Moore felt as if he had discovered a pearl in an oyster. Some of her remarks hit the core of the cases, and he sometimes relied on her judgment.
At some point, they began to delve into the deepest parts of London. Liam respected Jane’s insight. It was a natural talent. Few could pick out crimes and make the mouths of victims silenced by death speak. And there would be fewer in the future, in this era.
Thus, he feared Jane.
Jane said his gaze was piercing, but to Liam, Jane’s was even more so.
They had been through a lot together. He was sure Jane had noticed his contradictions. However, Jane Osmond, even if she sensed something suspicious about him, never mentioned it. It seemed as if she was waiting for Liam Moore to speak first.
Hence, Liam Moore did not ask Jane more questions. That was how he remembered Jane.
Therefore, Jane Osmond’s recent behavior was unfamiliar.
Her insights had sharpened, but there was a strange distancing attitude. She increasingly avoided his gaze. He wondered if she had noticed something about him.
Lucita’s warning came to mind.
“Hiding something for too long never helps.”
But how could he tell?
He knew. Intelligence surpasses reason.
Get a grip, Liam Moore. He muttered to himself as he closed his eyes.
In his mind, he knew several times over. Lies are always poison in relationships. Yet he continued to deceive Jane Osmond with well-oiled lies. He didn’t share what he knew.
Why? Greenwich and Hopkins would ask. Why? Wouldn’t it be better for you to be honest with the woman you are so protective of?
Part of him agreed. Sometimes it is better to be honest. However, Liam Moore still hadn’t found the answer to what he had long pondered.
Why don’t you tell her? What he feared was always the fact of knowing. He already knew too well what knowledge could bring.
Knowledge breeds madness. Look at Plurititas. Look at his ecstatically blue eyes. Knowledge is akin to a deadly poison to reason, and sometimes understanding breaks down existing perceptions. Broken perceptions and concepts shake the very foundations of a person. Ordinary people had to live as ordinary people, and he hoped Jane Osmond would not cross that line.
Why, why did you hide it and cherish it so much? If you know? What changes if you know?
He knew Jane Osmond was thirsty for knowledge. He had noticed her almost arrogant desire to know more.
But already, Liam Moore had thrust Jane into numerous dangers. Just being involved with him put her at risk. Telling her more would be like pushing her to her death.
The threats he faced and the ones Jane faced were slightly different. Understanding might lead to death. No, it could be worse than that. Greenwich and Meridian had limits to what they could protect, and those who knew exceptionally much were always prey.
It was the same that day. Liam Moore felt a tearing sensation.
Dangerous. His mind warned. You will regret it someday.
Running roughly, not even knowing why, his heart pounded fiercely. It was a mixture of anxiety and a kind of fear. Just thinking that Jane could also be a target after someone had just died made him shudder. He, who rarely felt fear, did then.
He couldn’t understand why he was so sensitive to Jane Osmond’s danger. He couldn’t understand why he smiled with relief, seeing her precariously dozing against the desk.
The woman’s breathing was even, her long eyelashes quivering slightly before settling. It was an innocent face.
His fingers, unable to resist the impulse, slowly stroked her sleeping forehead. …It must be because of relief. He thought so.
But later, when the woman, now awake, took a few steps toward him, he was mesmerized by the green eyes filled with the sunset.
It felt like a forest at dusk. Or perhaps a field. Her slightly furrowed face and the tousled brown hair were vividly clear.
‘Did Jane have so many stray hairs?’
When the light reflected off her light brown hair, it momentarily shone golden. Even the tiny dust particles in the air sparkled. Time seemed to flow slowly.
Like swimming in sugar syrup…
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hello, viri here! Just some comments of mine, so feel free to skip !!
I initially planned to post this daily, but as I translated I got more and more hooked that I actually unlocked 10 chapters in a single day 💀…. We also get for the first time Liam’s POV, and O.M.G. if he’s down bad for Jane 😭 I mean who wouldn’t tbh… I can’t wait for the more “cosmic horror” elements to come out, although we already got a taste of it with Lucita and I’m loving it..!
PS: you can support me on Kofi, everything I make from it will be redirected to unlocking more chapters…!
this being said, see you next time~!