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I, the Villain, Want to Save Myself, But the Yandere Heroines Disagree-Chapter 93 - The Doctor (4/4)
“Oh?” The doctor seemed less interested now, tossing the scalpel aside as he stood in front of the masked man. “No more conditions?”
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“N-no more... Just, please, stop...”
“Alright,” the doctor nodded. “Then tell me—who is your employer?”
“I... I’m with the Iron Wolf Mercenary Group,” the masked man stammered. “Our base is in the Imperial Territories... Normally, we take jobs from nobles to eliminate their enemies and make a living.”
“My superior is the leader, Mudrick. I’m the vice leader. As for our client...”
“You know these nobles care deeply about their reputations. They usually go through intermediaries. Our client was one such intermediary...”
“Then tell me who the intermediary is.”
“I... I don’t dare... If they find out, the Iron Wolf Mercenary Group will be completely wiped out.”
“Oh?” The doctor chuckled. “So your comrades’ safety matters more to you than your own life?”
“No... no...”
“Then speak.”
“...” The masked man hesitated for a long time before finally making up his mind. He nodded and said, “I don’t know his real name. But he goes by the alias ‘Angel of Death.’”
“Angel of Death?” The doctor repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice. “What an interesting nickname.”
“Alright, I understand now,” the doctor said, nodding.
“Can you let me go now?” the masked man asked, looking at the doctor with a glimmer of expectation.
“Of course. But first, I have a few questions for you, and you must answer honestly.”
“Alright.” The masked man tried to nod, but the movement pulled at the raw wound on his face, causing him to wince in pain.
“Have you killed before? How many people have you killed? Do you think those people deserved to die?”
Hearing these questions, the masked man froze.
His mind raced to form an answer, but before he could respond, the doctor sighed and shook his head.
Then, without hesitation, the doctor stepped forward and swiftly snapped the man’s neck.
The look in the masked man’s eyes was one the doctor had seen many times before—in the eyes of those who had slaughtered innocents.
It was the look of someone calculating how best to hide their sins.
And so, the doctor never gave them the chance.
Glancing toward the deeper part of the basement, the doctor shook his head. Well, it seemed he’d have one more cadaver for anatomical study today.
—
Meanwhile, back at the academy, Virgil immediately sought out Orson upon his return.
Seeing the bandages wrapped around Virgil’s shoulder, Orson immediately knew what had transpired.
Previously, Orson had explained to Litte that while alchemy-made healing potions could swiftly mend injuries, frequent use would lead to increased resistance.
As such, unless in a life-or-death situation, most people avoided using healing potions for minor injuries. Otherwise, in a critical moment, they might find themselves unable to recover, rendering the earlier convenience meaningless.
For this reason, most people opted for simple treatments after getting injured, either seeking help at a church or visiting a clinic.
Virgil, however, had rushed back and hadn’t yet had time to treat his injuries.
“Young Master Orson, your suspicions were correct. Someone indeed targeted Litte’s parents.”
“And the perpetrators? Did you catch any of them alive?”
“Unfortunately, I failed. We couldn’t capture anyone alive. However, we did find that all the attackers had a wolf-head tattoo on their left arms.”
“I see,” Orson nodded.
“Additionally, we let one person escape. Judging by his strength, he was roughly on par with me,” Virgil said, pointing to his injured shoulder. “This wound was inflicted by him. But according to your instructions, we didn’t pursue him and allowed him to escape.”
“Understood.”
“Young Master Orson, may I ask why you specifically wanted one of them to escape?”
“Because someone else is waiting for him,” Orson replied with a smile. “If I’m not mistaken, when you tried to capture the others alive, they all committed suicide, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” Virgil nodded.
“If you hadn’t let him go, he would’ve killed himself too,” Orson explained.
He then pulled out a healing potion.
“Take this and drink it. Don’t let Litte notice anything.”
“But... healing potions usually come with resistance... I’d rather go to the church,” Virgil hesitated.
“This isn’t an ordinary healing potion. Mine doesn’t cause resistance,” Orson assured him.
“Understood.” Virgil accepted the potion.
“By the way, Young Master Orson, did you arrange for someone else to deal with the one who escaped?” Virgil asked curiously.
Realizing he might have overstepped, Virgil quickly bowed his head in apology.
“Forgive me, Young Master Orson. I shouldn’t have asked such questions.”
As one of Orson’s trusted subordinates, Virgil knew his role was to obey, not question.
“It’s fine. If you’re curious, I don’t mind telling you.” Orson waved his hand nonchalantly.
Orson had always been transparent with those he trusted.
“I know someone skilled in interrogation. He works as a doctor—at least, that’s what I call him.”
Orson briefly recounted how he had come to know the “doctor.”
Though his name was “Doctor,” practicing medicine was merely his hobby.
His true expertise lay in reconnaissance and disguise. In short, he was a highly capable intelligence agent.
This was why Orson felt confident letting the escapee go.
After all, the “doctor” would handle it.
Hearing this, Virgil nodded in understanding.
Orson’s willingness to share this information with him proved that he ranked relatively high among Orson’s subordinates.
Though a loyal subordinate would never presume to guess their superior’s thoughts, earning such trust was undeniably gratifying.
With this in mind, Virgil decided it was time to share what he had learned about Litte.
“Young Master Orson, while speaking with Andre and Jennie upon my return, I happened to learn something rather interesting. Would you like to hear it?”
“Oh? Let’s hear it.” As Orson said this, he looked at Virgil, who was leaning against the wall, and became intrigued.
In the original story, details about Litte’s life before joining the family were sparse. It was merely mentioned that he lived well in the countryside and was loved by his parents.
Orson was curious about how Andre and Jennie viewed Litte.
After organizing his thoughts, Virgil began:
“Andre and Jennie... referred to Litte as their daughter...”