BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 185's

Two men were arrested. They are about thirty. His face was market, with a box face and a thin whisker running under his nose. One had a large coat on the cheek while the other had a mole on the chin.

The two prisoners got up as soon as the cell door in the basement opened and Marco stepped in followed by Rolan. As soon as he saw Rolan, the two people snorted and retreated.

Marco saw no trace of blood or injury to his two prisoners, but he knew that Rolan had a thousand ways of hurting people without leaving visible wounds. Their faces were only faintly visible in the dimly lit room. There was not the slightest illumination in the underground cell. It was just a three-by-three-meter-wide empty room with a dirt floor and volcanic rock walls. The only illumination there was only the oil lamp that Marco brought.

"Who sent you?" Marco put his lamp on the floor, unwilling to risk the lamp being kicked at him while he was still carrying it.

"We never saw" replied the tompel. Face frightened. "We're in touch through a third person, and his name doesn't know."

"What orders were given to you?"

The two frightened people docked and exchanged glances, such as making sure of each other how far they should talk.

Marco turned to look at Rolan, who immediately stepped forward. The two men gasped in shock and jumped back a long way. Their backs hit the wall.

"Just be told to go to this house!" exclaim the mole. His breath trembled. "The whole crowd came and made a noise! The pay is solidus!"

Solidus is the gold coin. Initially the merchants from Byzantium who used the term, then slowly all the people in the Albion Kingdom also came to refer to gold coins as solidus.

"Whose coin is pictured?" ask Rolan. He did not come closer, now hiding both hands behind his back so as not to look too threatening.

"picture? No ... no pictures. Just writing."

Marco reached into his pocket, took out two pieces of gold from there, then threw the object to the ground. "Which coins do you accept?"

The two people hurriedly picked up the tossed coin and compared it, then shook their heads. "Not both."

"Tulisannja is not .. bisha only batja," the mole finally spoke, but his voice was not clear and sometimes he stopped after two or three words. "But it .. real gold, the letter ... Albion."

Marco took out a pen and paper from his pocket, then drew it there. He handed the paper to Rolan, who stretched it out to the mole.

This time the two prisoners agreed. That is the kind of coin they receive.

Marco was satisfied. "Duke Ashington," he told Rolan. He flicked his finger twice and Gerald who had been standing guard outside immediately entered the room carrying a kilij, one-eyed arch sword, which was still sheathed.

Both the tompel and the mole opened their eyes wide, but no one begged for mercy or reacted otherwise. They knew what was going to happen to them and there was no choice to run away. Both of them choose to reveal all things just to shorten suffering. No one expected to get away with it intact.

Marco opened his palm to the side, receiving the handle of the sword that Gerald was carrying. Rolan retreated to stand behind Marco, who had already pulled the kilij and swung it in one powerful slash.

The mole closed his eyes. Hot blood splashed his cheeks. The tompel's body fell headless. He did not want to find where his friend's head was rolling. The chest of the kembis seeks clean air from the thick aroma of blood and fresh meat. Her eyes are watering. He opens his mouth to say something; a wish, a curse, whatever it is. But he is not allowed. The sword had already swung back, slicing its neck and separating its head and body. The pain peaked up to the crown, then the sensation of the explosion that propagated just now so spoiled. Everything spun slowly in his view and disappeared in the dark.

"Okay sir" replied Gerald sparingly.

Rolan looked at the two lifeless chunks of flesh that were still continuously spouting blood on the floor. He felt absolutely no pity. Had things not gone the way Jose planned, had there not been Jacob, these people would have hurt Renata. Just imagining that made his blood boil.

Marco returns his kilij to Gerald and turns away. Rolan followed while humming.

"You said Duke Ashington was the mastermind?" asked Rolan curiously. "Where can you be sure?"

"There are only two types of solidus in Albion. The one with the Queen's print and the prints of the registered trade alliance," Marco explained boredly. "What they received was an ancient Albion solidus. They used Duke's gold to make it difficult for you to trace the mastermind's identity. Surely they think I'm still rotting in that castle and Jose doesn't know anything about Duke so no one can trace the culprit."

Rolan chuckles. "They don't know that we already know everything."

"It's only a matter of time until they know I'm back and that their plans are ruined."

They climbed the stairs to the first floor and met George, who was waiting to tell them that Greyland had confirmed that he was ready to receive a call at any hour this morning and would be in touch Marco in regular hours if not contacted first.

"What do you want to do?" Rolan was still following Marco to the man's study.

"Let go of the wolf" said the man calmly. "I wanted to wait until all parties showed up so that not a single mouse could escape, but we might even run out of time if we waited even longer." He paused for a while before retooling, "I might run out of time."

Rolan pretended not to hear the last sentence.

***

Jose slept without dreaming and woke up feeling bad. His tongue was sour and his body was tired. He thought it was just a tired effect. These few days his mind was always tense and he was busy running to and fro and almost drowned. It's only natural that he's sick.

Maybe I should ask Uncle for some medicine, he thought as he rolled up. The finger stops when it touches the wet feeling on the mattress. He glanced, but his eyes were still a little blurry. Jose shook his head slowly and blinked, trying to focus his gaze. He raised his finger closer, astonished to see the red color there. My finger wound?

However no scratches of any kind were visible. He looked down, feeling something dripping from his face. His white shirt was soaked in deep red, as if someone had just pierced his hull with a sword. He got up quickly, almost fell from a loss of balance, then walked up to the mirror.

A disheveled black-haired young man stared at her nanar with the front of the shirt dampened in a deep red stain. The young man's face was pale. Fresh blood melted from his nose.

There was a bell rope on the side of the mirror frame that descended from the ceiling. The rope was installed in the main rooms to make it easier for the hosts to call the waiter without the need to call. If the rope is pulled, the bell in the butler's room will ring according to the location of the room, then George or another waiter on standby will come soon.

Jose snatched the rope so realized that the pale young man who was looking at him right now was himself in the mirror.

He pulled the bell rope with all his might.

***