Chaotic Nights

Chaotic Nights — Chapter 100. Wongun

Translator: Atlas

Weekly Chapter 6/6

“I forgot. The voice that suggested I create the Shadows. This is the Shadow emblem that Wongun himself carved with his sword.”

Yuljae came to his senses.

“My Lord. Wongun…”

“I know. You’re not the only one who wants to believe he didn’t do that.”

The Prince bent down to pick up the emblem that had fallen into the blood.

“Is justification necessary?”

Jihak laughed like a happy man.

But today he was in a bad mood. Should it turn out that his uncle orchestrated the entire scheme, this could be considered a rebellion. It seemed that he wanted to use him to create a war in the royal palace that would end in bloodshed.

“This is fun.”

He covered his mouth to cover his creepy grin, removed the sword from the dead assassin’s body. The body fell next to the chair.

He looked at the scene with indifference. He handed the blood-soaked sword back to Yuljae.

“I wondered where my uncle will be.”

Then he opened the door. The moonlight fell on his head.

Yuljae’s face was grimmer than ever.

“My lord, you need to think about it.”

“I am more rational than ever, Yuljae. It was my uncle who taught us that weeds need to be pulled before they sprout.”

Yuljae knelt before Jihak.

“Don’t let them trick you! Someone has plotted this to cause discord between you. Please ask your uncle first. I’ll help you.”

“…My uncle was also the one who sent you to me. Remember.”

“That’s not what I meant. We all owe our lives to our Lord. How could I serve two suns? Please believe me, my Lord.”

Jihak let out a long sigh. It seemed that the darkness consumed him.

“Do you also harbor fear towards me…?

“No. I only respect you.”

“That day I said I felt affection for Eunha.”

Yuljae’s eyes trembled.

“I may have been mistaken.”

Jihak, who had a cold look on his face, walked past Yuljae who was kneeling. He walked toward his quarters, immersed in darkness, at a moderate pace.

Affection. A strange word.

The inexplicable madness he felt in the bathroom was nothing more than a dirty possessive desire. He liked it when she got nervous. Besides, he even liked it when people looked at him when he grabbed her neck.

Jihak was sure.

He didn’t love the girl. His sole desire was to keep her close to him.

Otherwise, the fear in her eyes would not have filled him with despair. In case she disappeared before his eyes, he would certainly have been angry.

But before he entered his chambers, he changed direction. He threw his coat into the fire pit. The blood-stained silk burned in the fire pit.

His eyes also burned like fire as he looked into the light.

***