242 – Back to True Form -6-

• Drip.

Crimson blood dripped onto the floor.

The pain in his abdomen, which should have been searing, dissipated into the night air, along with the overwhelming sense of injustice. Mikhail slowly lifted his heavy eyelids.

Red hair. A black butler's uniform. Broad shoulders that filled his entire vision.

The distinct scent of Ricardo's cologne tickled Mikhail's nose, greeting him.

"I was worried."

Ricardo's deep, short voice resonated with concern. Without asking a single question, Ricardo had grabbed the blade, standing tall like an unyielding rock.

Mikhail spoke with a trembling voice. …