Bastard NPC Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Of course I can’t pay it back.

I was just happy about becoming a sudden rich man this morning, but even if I spent all my money, it was an amount I couldn’t repay. I briefly thought about kneeling and begging, but kneeling could wait. 

After all, even when playing Hwatu¹, I try to hide my cards and read my opponent’s flow. I can’t rashly jump into something that could affect my future. Right, for now, I’ll pretend to be fine. Who knows whether I’m broke or not?

“It’s difficult, but if I sell some stocks and real estate, I can make up for it.”

“Oh, I see.”

I pushed the tablet forward with a shameless expression, as if I wasn’t flustered. Lifting the corners of his mouth in a sneer, he alternately glanced at the tablet and me.

“But, sir, you’re a public servant, right? Shouldn’t the compensation process be discussed with Fixford?”

This time, he laughed a little louder. He half-turned toward me, and crossed his long legs. Then, he reached out and pressed his palm hard against my forehead again. His unnecessarily long arm made all my efforts to sit as far away as possible pointless.

“Ah!”

“Get a grip, pretty. Did I tell you to overthink things? Just answer: will you compensate or not?”

“……”

“By the way, this isn’t it. I haven’t included the manpower loss in the list yet since it’s still being estimated.”

He rambled on, saying that I was the first to teach him that the price of a life varies depending on age and family relations. Then he added, “You’d be fun to watch if you cried.” It seemed like he really liked the scowl on my face, which I couldn’t help but make, like I was dealing with a psycho.

“Try crying. Then I’ll reduce the amount by half.”

It was a tempting suggestion. If a cry could reduce half the amount, this situation could be resolved by just poking my eyes. However, the pervert’s real intention wasn’t to extract compensation from me. 

Both he and I knew that this slow, dragging process about compensation was just my desperate attempt to avoid confronting his true purpose.

“Is it really okay for you to reduce such a large amount on your own?”

I carefully phrased the question, meaning “Who are you to decide the Fix Ford compensation on your own?” He tilted his head slightly and stared at me intently, as if trying to read my thoughts. 

After staring at me with a persistent gaze for a while, he let out an ambiguous exclamation, “Ah.”

“I guess the bastard watching your back didn’t go that far.”

“Excuse me?”

“Exactly. If you’re curious about something, you should ask me. Why go poking around in random places?”

His words were vague, hard to fully grasp. It seemed like he was mocking me for having suspected something behind him. However, I understood that “bastard” referred to Colin. Regardless, his answer was completely unrelated to my question.

I silently stared at him, trying to understand the meaning of the conversation, and he smiled unexpectedly kindly before speaking.

“A VCI wouldn’t do something like this.”

“……”

“But I can.”

“……Why can you do that?”

“Because it’s mine.”

The uneasy feeling in my stomach, which had been churning since the moment I asked, exploded like a bomb—boom!.

“Are you saying you’re the CEO of Fix Ford?”

“I told you, pretty. You’re fucked.”

I froze, like a knight encountering Medusa. As I stared at his amused gaze, I could see the delight in his blue eyes. I didn’t even have time to think that it seemed perverted or crazy.

‘The CEO of Fix Ford must be really pissed off, huh.’

‘No wonder some bastard’s been snooping around.’

The words I had overheard yesterday turned into black ink, staining my already dark future even darker. It became clear why he had barged into my house as soon as my information had been leaked last night. 

It wasn’t just that he had bought Fixford stock or received some benefits from them. This man was Fixford itself, which meant he had more than enough reason to hold a grudge.

VCI agent and CEO of Fix Ford.

I can clearly see his character’s role now. Even just considering he’s a VCI, he’s already in opposition to the player. Now, with the addition of the Fix Ford storyline, he becomes a sworn enemy for a thousand years. 

Theo is definitely going to be a powerful hidden boss who will eventually appear. Oh, right. His personality seems underdeveloped, that must be why he’s like this.

How could this be?

I briefly thought it would be nice if I just passed out—but it was a futile wish. Even if I were lucky, this psycho wouldn’t take me to the hospital. If I were unlucky, I might wake up drenched in cold water. He could throw me on the asphalt outside the fence and just pour water on me because he’d be afraid of making his house dirty. This bad guy.

“Do you need more time to think?” 

He, watching my silence, asked in a gentle voice. Was it the calm of a winner, or the generosity of someone with power? His expression, adorned with a subtle smile, was both beautiful and irritating.

“So, is it really okay for you to tell me such an important secret?”

“Weren’t you ignoring my calls and running around because you were curious about this?”

“Exactly. If this gets out, it’s going to be problematic, isn’t it?”

“Who’s it going to be a problem for? You? Or me?”

I was about to answer “you,” but I quietly closed my mouth as a thought suddenly crossed my mind. A bad future flashed before me. If I went around spreading this secret, he would lose VCI, but I could lose my life. If I were lucky, I would spend my time hiding from Fixford’s eyes like a fugitive until I could escape this world. 

But if I were unlucky, I could die without a trace, with no one knowing. As I imagined myself being found as a cold corpse in a desolate alley, a chill ran down my spine.

“Exactly. You’d be the one in trouble.”

Theo, watching my distorted expression, smiled knowingly. I absentmindedly rubbed my cold arms and thought about possible ways to escape, but there were none. 

The outcome had already been decided long ago, and the only answer I could give was already set.

“Don’t worry. I don’t have any friends, so I’m very tight-lipped.”

“But that guy earlier said he was your friend.”

“Well, yes, but the important thing isn’t my friendship, it’s the conversation with you. So, what I’m saying is, if I could just make this whole compensation thing go away and never have to see you again, I’d do whatever it takes. But I know you don’t plan on that.”

I was quite serious, but he rubbed his mouth as if he had heard something amusing and smiled with a smirk. The phrase “I’d do whatever it takes” sounded ridiculous to him. Still, instead of taking the bait, he tilted his chin, almost as if telling me to keep talking.

“What do you want from me?”

“You.”

“No, seriously.”

“Yeah, you.”

Typically, when conversations like this happen, crude words follow, and I instinctively pull my body back. 

My back was pressed firmly against the armrest, leaving no space to move, but I huddled in, wary, like I was facing a dangerous creature.

“Go back to your original position.”

Despite calculating my escape route just in case, his single word made me slowly move back to where I had originally been sitting. Then, he spoke in a tone as if praising a well-behaved puppy, saying, “Good girl.”

“Do you know that you should catch enemies with another enemy?”

“I understand that I’m the enemy to you.”

He widened his eyes, something rare for him, and laughed with a deep, resonant sound. I had seen him grin many times, but this was the brightest smile I had seen. He had dimples. His crescent-shaped eyes and the deep dimples in his cheeks gave him the look of a mischievous boy, but I couldn’t understand what he found so amusing. He just seemed like a crazy person.

He laughed for a while, pressing his hand against his eyes, and then suddenly reached out to me. I instinctively shrank my shoulders, as he often pressed his bruised forehead. But when he picked up the tablet from my lap, he glanced at me.

“Why are you avoiding me? You’re just going to get hurt.”

“I have good reflexes.”

For a moment, I felt foolish for being scared on my own, but then he let out a short laugh as if my actions were quite ridiculous.

“Yeah, well.”

He turned his gaze to the tablet screen, muttering under his breath like he was talking to himself. It’s a relief that he wasn’t pressing his forehead again or using crude words. 

However, I found his words difficult to understand.

“Don’t you have any siblings? If you don’t eat something delicious right away, they will take it.”

“Are you warning me because you think I have a lot of men?”

“Huh?”

“I’m not into sharing, so I keep an eye on my food. But, I don’t eat anything carelessly and end up in trouble.”

I decided to only understand that what I think versus what this man thinks of as ‘delicious’ are different. I didn’t want to dig too deep, and I didn’t want to think about it any further. 

No, he’s an alleged eunuch. What kind of eunuch says such vulgar things whenever he opens his mouth?

Furthermore, why does it matter to me what he eats?