I, the Villain, Want to Save Myself, But the Yandere Heroines Disagree-Chapter 95 - Angel of Death (2/4)

The next day at noon, Orson did not follow his usual routine of going to the Student Council with Olivia. Instead, he took leave and went off-campus.

Arriving at an upscale restaurant, Orson immediately spotted a man with short blond hair dressed in a white suit. Smiling, Orson walked over and sat across from him.

“Long time no see, Doctor,” Orson began.

“It really has been a while. And once again, you assigned me quite the big task—impressive as always,” the Doctor said with a smile.

Orson didn’t know the Doctor’s real name. All he knew was that the man before him was about the same age as him, perhaps a few years older at most, and was born during the wartime era in what is now the Antica region.

“So, tell me, did you find any information?” Orson asked, looking at the Doctor sitting across from him.

“The Iron Wolf Mercenary Group. They were the party hired for this operation.” The Doctor took a sip of tea before speaking.

“The Iron Wolf Mercenary Group?” Orson nodded. “I’ve heard of them from the Adventurers’ Guild. They’re a relatively small group, but their members are all elite combatants. They specialize in handling dirty work for nobles—the kind of group that earns their living catering to the wealthy.”

“Exactly.” The Doctor nodded. “The mercenary group itself isn’t the issue. They’re professionals who follow the money and don’t mind offending anyone. Pay them enough, and they’d even be willing to eliminate their original employer for you.”

“The issue lies with the client behind the mercenary group, correct?” Orson said, narrowing his eyes.

“Exactly.” The Doctor nodded. “According to my investigation, the person behind the mercenary group seems to have significant influence.”

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“In Saint Roland City, there’s an intermediary known as the ‘Angel of Death.’ He’s also a middleman.”

“So, if we want to investigate further, we’ll need to start with this ‘Angel of Death,’ right?” Orson said, his face showing a thoughtful expression.

“That’s correct.” The Doctor nodded. “I can also provide some insight about this person. For example, you could place a similar request to arrange a meeting with him—wouldn’t that work?”

“Do you think he’d betray his client’s confidentiality?” Orson asked in return.

“Whether he will or not, I can’t say. I’m just offering you an idea. I can’t guarantee its feasibility.”

“Fair enough.” Hearing this, Orson could only nod. “Let’s not dwell on it for now. Let’s eat.”

After finishing their meal, Orson stood at the restaurant’s entrance, looking at the Doctor.

“It’s hard to imagine someone like you dressing so impeccably.”

“Haha, it’s just for meeting with you. Otherwise, I’d be more casual,” the Doctor replied with a slightly tipsy laugh, patting Orson on the shoulder.

The two walked through the streets together until they reached a secluded alleyway.

It was only then that Orson and the Doctor stopped.

“Since you’re here, why not come in and chat for a bit?” Orson said.

The group of burly men at the alley entrance realized they’d been spotted and tried to flee. But before they could take more than a few steps, Orson appeared in front of them like a ghost.

“I just told you not to leave in such a hurry, didn’t I?” He smiled, knocking them out and dragging them into the alley.

During their meal, both Orson and the Doctor had noticed they were being watched. Upon leaving the restaurant, they had pretended to be drunk.

Once they reached the isolated alley, they finally made their move.

“Didn’t anyone tell you about my strength? And you still dared to trail me?” Orson said, pointing at one of the men who was starting to wake up.

“P-please forgive us, Young Master Orson. We didn’t know who we were dealing with. Please spare us—we have families to take care of...” The man groveled, bowing repeatedly.

“Whether I spare you or not depends on your attitude,” Orson said, leaning against the wall and gesturing for the Doctor to take over.

The Doctor chuckled, pulling a scalpel from his suit pocket as he approached the man.

“You wouldn’t want to lose any body parts, would you? Then be a good boy and tell us who sent you.”

“...” The man stared at the scalpel, swallowing nervously as his entire body trembled.

“M-my lord, please forgive us. We can’t say anything. If we do, we’re as good as dead when we return...”

Before he could finish, the Doctor drove the scalpel into the man’s thigh.

The man opened his mouth to scream, but the Doctor shoved a piece of cloth into it, muffling his cries.

Only when the man broke into a cold sweat, his terrified eyes wide, did the Doctor remove the cloth.

“You’re worried about dying when you return? How about dying right here, in a much more agonizing way? Your choice,” the Doctor said, his tone almost gleeful, as if enjoying the “game.”

“Save your questions. I’m the one who sent them,” a voice interrupted.

“Oh? A small fish brought out the big one?” Orson said, looking toward the alley’s entrance, where a figure cloaked in a hooded cape stood. Narrowing his eyes, Orson studied the figure.

To conceal their identity, the figure had used magic to distort their voice into an androgynous, unnatural tone. Not an inch of their skin was visible beneath the cloak.

But what puzzled Orson wasn’t their method of concealment. It was the cloak itself—it felt... lifeless, as if the figure beneath it wasn’t even alive.

“Hehe, after all, I’ve long wanted to meet the renowned Young Master Orson.” The voice continued from beneath the cloak.

Orson frowned and then spoke, “If you’ve chosen to meet me, isn’t it disrespectful not to show your true self?”

“Please understand, Young Master Orson. In my line of work, showing one’s face is practically a death sentence.”

“Fine. Since you’ve come to us, I assume you know why we’re looking for you. Isn’t that right, ‘Angel of Death’?”

“Ah, I assumed the Iron Wolf Mercenaries would fail, but I didn’t expect them to lack even the most basic professionalism. It seems I overestimated them.”

“Enough with the pleasantries,” Orson frowned. “This isn’t the place for a proper conversation. If you want to talk, give me a location, and I’ll meet you in person.”

“Very well. Oak Street, number 58, at the Orchid Tavern. Just mention ‘Angel,’ and they’ll allow you to see me.”

“As for safety, you needn’t worry. Meeting with you, Young Master Orson, puts my own safety at greater risk.”

“Alright.” Orson nodded, then turned to look at the people behind him. “What about those people?”

“They’re at your disposal, Young Master Orson.” The cloak let out a hoarse laugh. “In our line of work, we’ve long since had our heads tied to our belts.”

“Besides, just a few underlings being enough to secure a meeting with you, Young Master Orson? That’s more than worth it for me.”

“Hmph.” Orson let out a cold snort and then turned to the Doctor. “Doctor, these people are yours to handle.”

“Got it.” Hearing this, the Doctor revealed a cheerful smile.

He then turned to the still-conscious burly man and asked the same questions he had previously posed to the masked man.

“Have you killed before? How many people have you killed? Do you think those people deserved to die?”

On the other hand, after finishing its speech, the cloak suddenly seemed to lose all its support and collapsed to the ground instantly.

Sure enough, just as Orson had suspected, there was nothing inside the cloak.

Thinking this, Orson ignored the sound of blades slicing into flesh behind him and walked out of the alley.