The Villain’s Sister Suffers Today

Episode 137

Translator : Missme

Editor : Aru

Of course, she remembers. Bessie recalled a pretty clear memory. But what does that mean now?

As soon as she was about to ask, the next word continued.

“This is what the old fortune-teller said on my turn. She said I’m good at deceiving myself to the very last, I won’t even know that I’m fooling myself.”

Yes, the old woman did say that. Bessie tried to nod her head inadvertently but stopped.

She didn’t know what that meant back then.

As soon as Bessie looked at Davery with her ‘no way’ expression, he said.

“As the fortune-teller says. I think I’m quite talented in deceiving myself. Although I don’t know that I’m being fooled, it’s not hard to pretend that I’m not.”

Davery stared somewhere in the mansion and saw Bessie.

“You know I’m an orphan, Bessie.”

“……yes.”

“There is no one here who is not family to me.”

Davery smiled naturally.

“No matter who it is.”

“…….”

“I won’t be able to reverse what I said today until I die. Would that be a reassuring answer for Bessie?”

“Sir Sack.”

“Believe me, Bessie.”

Bessie patted her lips as if to say something and eventually stopped.

Instead, a sigh came out of the gap.

“…….okay.”

“……..”

“I’m quite fond of you, Sir Sack. A lot.”

“I know.”

Davery grinned indifferently. Bessie shook her head at it and turned away.

“Practice hard.”

Bessie then moved away quickly. Just like she remembered the busy thing that she had put off for a while.

Davery walked away from the back.

Then, he stopped walking without much time.

“……Whoow.”

A deep sigh came out. Davery covered his face with his hands. Anyone can see that he has a troubled expression on his face. maybe

“You idiot.”

Davery mumbled to his palm.

In front of Bessie, he spoke confidently, but it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Because it hasn’t been long since he realized this.

After he cursed himself, Davery put down his hand covering his face.

The scenery of the mansion, which he sees every day, filled the view familiarly.

‘………Six years.’

Bessie is right. Time flies frighteningly fast. When did this happen?

“…….”

Davery lowered his hand and slowly opened and closed his eyes. It’s been quite a while, but for such a thing, a clear memory touched his head.

><><><><><><><

Davery was an orphan. He never told this to anyone so no one in the mansion even knew, but he lost his family because of the war.

It was when Davery was a toddler who couldn’t speak properly.

A war broke out between the provinces. His father was forcibly drafted as a private soldier, and her mother was taken to a place where she did not know why.

No one could identify their bodies but only heard that they died later.

Davery became an orphan in an instant. There was a person who raised him out of pity, but he was robbed and died about five years later, despite his good deeds.

When he was only five years old, Davery had nowhere to go. From then on, he made his alley his home.

What helped him at the time was that Davery was quick-witted, powerful, and spiteful than his peers.

The child survived by begging a rich passerby, searching the trash cans of a well-run shop, and hitting stones on the back of a beggar who used to use violence against a child on the street.

The beggar, who was hit on the head by a stone, died after wriggling for a day.

He killed a man for the first time. But little Davery could not feel anything.

Already at that age, Davery saw numerous deaths. That’s how his life was in the back alley.

The child was more used to a dying man than to the rotting food.

When he was nine years old, he barely managed to survive.

Davery flowed to a village called Hidden.

Hidden. A remote village outside of the capital that can’t be found without a milestone.

Davery met a man there.

‘I like the way he looks, all right, let’s take him.’

A fluffy chin looks like a huge ship that is likely to spill oil if stabbed. A face filled with greed.

When Davery first saw a man, he called him a pig.

He heard his name but forgot his name. It wasn’t a name he wanted to remember.

The man, the pig one, was engaged in human trafficking in the village. Then, he ran a gladiatorial gambling house where people actually die while fighting.

Davery has been at the gambling house since he was just eleven years old.

‘Your name is Davery from now on. That’s mean, you’re gonna cut everything. What do you say, do you like it?’

Davery really wanted to kill the pig.

But just as the funny man’s name was true, Davery was really good at the sword.

Every time he went on stage at the gladiatorial gambling house, Davery repeatedly cut off a bigger opponent than him.

When he was one year older, it wasn’t difficult to deal with the older one.

When Davery was fourteen years old, he became famous at the illegal gladiator gambling house run by a pig.

Originally referred to by the village’s name, the “Hidden” gambling house, the audience was filled with aristocrats from the capital.

Dividends rose steeply, and Davery stopped going out to the gambling house, cutting flesh, breaking paper, and dealing with opponents.

Time goes by. Davery was 17.

No more playing for the gambling house game.

No matter who came out against him, he could not hurt Davery.

At that point, Davery stabbed the pig in the heart. Not hasty, but not slow.

After stabbing, Davery watched indifferently as the huge body cooled.

Two more years, nineteen.

Davery didn’t get out of the Hidden.

He could have gone out to go out, but he had nowhere to go. The will to go somewhere was also almost none.

Sometimes when he wanted to relax or ran out of money, he went to the gambling house on his own. And he cut people moderately and pocketed dividends.

That’s how Davery lived. Just as he exists.

That day was no different.

He went to the gambling house because he couldn’t get rid of his irritation after making two men who quarrelled with each other without knowing it was his first time.

After stabbing three people, he didn’t go to the finals and just came down. Because it suddenly became annoying for him.

It was then that someone called him out of the gambling den.

‘Hey.’

Davery was used to it. Now that the man bet on him, it’s an order to go back to the gambling house and finish fighting.

He thought that this was what would happen, so he purposely lost the last match. He didn’t even look at it properly.

There was an aristocrat who was sometimes reckless. And annoying, too.

With a similar thing, Davery recalled breaking the wrist of a young aristocrat who tried to give him a hand-knifing.

Although it worked out well, it was done with the intention of becoming a reality.

Even if he died in return for misleading the aristocrats, he had no regrets.

It was the same now. So if that aristocrat was trying to use violence and call him, that would be the very wrong action.

Davery turned around thinking so, and the next moment he was embarrassed.

‘What is it?’

Where he turned around, there was a much younger and more generous master than he thought.

The boy dressed in precious clothes at a glance was like a porcelain doll. He looked like he had made it that much.

‘What kind of person looks like that?’

The boy’s face frightened Davery out of his irritation.

It was when a heartless voice came out of the boy’s mouth that Davery came to his senses.

‘I know you lost the game on purpose. Let me ask you a question. Have you played all the previous games roughly?’

Only then did Davery find a sword hanging from the boy’s waistline.

………Oh, my God, he laughed. It was a laugh in vain.

Davery measured the boy’s age with his eyes. Thirteen? But looking at his generosity, maybe fourteen?

Many of the aristocrats in the capital learn self-defence swordsmanship and act like they’ve become great knights.

Maybe the boy followed his grown-up around here.

Davery laughed. In general, the humans who rolled in Hidden’s gambling house didn’t like the nobles who grew up finely and unaware of the world.

Some showed extreme disapproval and hatred toward the aristocracy itself.

Davery was not to that extent. Nevertheless, he did not want to be polite to such a spoiled master.

Davery stood stiff and sarcastically.

‘Then? Why, did you just bet your pocket money on a game and lose it?’

‘Put up your sword.’

‘What?’

‘I won’t say it again. Listen.’

And Davery couldn’t forget the day.

‘Are you saying you want to fight with me? Did this handsome young master go crazy? If you’re looking for someone to lose in moderation, you really picked the wrong person.’

He pulled out his sword thinking so………, but he couldn’t even touch the boy’s collar and was beaten.

‘It doesn’t make sense.’

Davery lay on the floor and blinked. He couldn’t believe what just happened.

‘Is that it?’

The boy didn’t look very tired even though he had beaten him down. Davery couldn’t believe more.

‘That’s not bad.’

The boy patted the dust off his clothes and said, wiping his sword.

‘It’s still crude and rough, but it’ll be useful if you trim it. It’s not like natural talent is useless after all.’

Davery burst into laughter. Has he heard such harsh reviews since he took the sword?

Even the boy seemed to be complimenting him at the same time. It was ridiculous.