Bad Born Blood Chapter 205

Chapter 205

I ran into Boyan in the hallway of the office building. He hesitated with a dark expression before trying to speak to .

"Um, Luka..."

"I have sowhere to be. We’ll talk later."

I cut him off as if blocking his approach. The truth was, I felt uneasy about talking to Boyan right now, but if he reached out to first, I had no intention of avoiding him.

'Just not right now.'

It was ti to face Ilay.

My heartbeat gradually picked up pace. A torrent of emotions, impossible to define as just one, flowed within . Their color was predominantly red. So burned bright like fresh blood, others were deep crimson, while so were dark and muddied. So emotions were so blackened they seed to lack even a trace of red, clinging stickily to the inner walls of my mind.

Boyan didn't cling to further and simply nodded.

Tap, tap.

I patted Boyan’s shoulder as I passed him.

Border City was dazzling at night. Most human cities slept when darkness fell. Even when a place pulsed with nightti energy, it was usually under special circumstances or for a specific purpose.

But Border City had no distinction between day and night. Many nocturnal species lived here, and establishnts catering to them kept their signs brightly lit.

'A city without rest.'

Border City constantly surged forward, never looking back. Like a symbol of progress, it devoured all knowledge and species, disregarding minor issues and growing pains.

Step, step.

Leaving the office building, I walked through the streets. I planned to go to the eting place on foot. Using a vehicle would only leave a record, sothing I wanted to avoid.

'Ilay Carthica.'

Ilay was now a hunting dog chasing Kinuan. That ant he had either gained Emperor Ivan Accretia’s trust or made a deal with him.

'There's a very high chance... that Francec’s imprisonnt is connected to Ilay.'

Francec operated in the light, but he wasn't a fool. He had both determination and political acun. He would have prepared multiple supports to stand as Ivan’s equal.

'If Ilay sided with Ivan and stabbed Francec in the back, then Francec would have had no chance to fight back.'

I slipped into a complex alleyway, choosing only paths that were difficult to track and sparsely populated.

'Well, not that anyone is tailing .'

Assuming the worst was my habit. Whenever I was involved in sothing unpleasant, I always moved as if soone was tracking .

Exiting the alley, I stepped into a street alive with energy. The comrcial district was packed with various species. Many of them were taller than humans, and before long, I blended into the crowd, disappearing among them.

'A lting pot of the universe.'

I looked up at the bar’s sign. The letters were written in multiple languages, catering to various species. The place was massive—a three-story building stretching wide, all operating as a single establishnt.

"What the hell, you bastard!"

"And who the fuck are you?"

Near the entrance, a fight had broken out between drunken patrons. Ignoring them, I stepped inside.

There was no music in the bar. Or rather, it wasn’t needed. Even on the first floor alone, nearly a hundred custors were engaged in loud, boisterous conversations, making the noise almost deafening. The mix of different languages only added to the chaos.

Cigarette smoke drifted through the air like fog. The ventilation system was running, but it wasn’t enough to handle the thick clouds of tobacco, let alone the multicolored vapors of various drugs.

"So now it’s booze and smokes together?"

I spoke as I approached Ilay, who was seated at the bar. A dense cloud of smoke hovered around his face.

"It’s not a cigarette, it’s a cigar. It’s trendy among the Imperial nobility these days."

Ilay turned to look at as he spoke.

Through the swirling smoke, his face ca into view—relaxed and refined, like a pampered young master. Looking at him now, he hardly seed like a ruthless soldier.

"Well, with a fully cybernetic body, I guess you don’t have to worry about lung cancer."

I sat down beside him.

"My treat. What do you want? Milk?"

Ilay grinned playfully.

"I like milk. Get one."

I snapped my fingers to signal the bartender. The human male bartender gave a once-over, then tilted his head skeptically at the ntion of milk.

"Milk? Seriously?"

"If you don’t have milk, juice will do."

"Well, we have it… but not the real thing. It’s synthetic milk. That okay with you?"

I nodded. The bartender, still looking doubtful, slid a glass of milk in front of with a reluctant expression.

"Wait, you’re actually drinking milk? Damn, Luka. How old are you?"

Ilay chuckled, nudging my arm with his elbow.

"If a fight breaks out here, that one drink you just had might change the outco."

I replied flatly. Even assuming a fight between us, Ilay only laughed.

"You haven’t changed a bit, Luka. Always expecting the worst. Let guess—you spent the past month training, thinking about how you’d deal with ."

Bullseye. I took a sip of my milk. It was sweet—too sweet.

"Why is this so sweet?"

I looked at the bartender. He shrugged.

"You seed like you had a kid’s palate."

It was half mockery. What a fine way to treat a custor.

"Hmm, that’s right. I like it sweet. Life is bitter, so at least what I drink should be sweet."

At my response, even the bartender chuckled.

Ilay took a deep drag from his cigar, then exhaled. With his high-performance cybernetic lungs, the sheer volu of smoke that spread between us was almost explosive.

Clink.

Before the smoke had fully cleared, Ilay picked up his glass and downed a drink of so naless liquor.

Snap.

He flicked his fingers at the bartender and jerked his chin. The bartender, understanding imdiately, simply slid the bottle toward Ilay and walked away, signaling that he wouldn’t be eavesdropping on our conversation anymore.

"You seem pretty comfortable in Border City."

It was clear Ilay had been to this bar more than a few tis.

"I’ve had plenty of reasons to keep coming back. So, I suppose I should start talking first?"

"You already know the drill."

I spoke while eyeing the dartboard hanging on the wall. Grabbing a dart from my glass, I threw it. It landed dead center. The next dart embedded itself perfectly into the tail of the first.

"A lot has happened since you were put out of commission. You probably think I’m responsible for, or at least played a major role in, Francec’s imprisonnt."

"Am I wrong?"

I stared straight at Ilay. He put down his cigar and t my gaze.

'Not bad, Ilay. You’ve completely shut off your emotional signals.'

A trick only possible with a fully cybernetic body. Right now, Ilay looked less like a man and more like a lifeless android. The expressionless stillness, the lack of even a single blink—he was like a mannequin.

Then—

A smirk.

Ilay laughed. And just like that, he looked human again.

"Luka, your last prediction during the Storm Era was wrong. The balance between Francec and Ivan collapsed quickly. Year after year, it beca clear Francec was losing ground. And I wasn’t about to go down with a sinking ship just to keep my loyalty intact."

"So you stabbed Francec in the back?"

"Francec agreed to it. He told to hand him over to Ivan. If he was going to lose anyway, he figured he might as well gain sothing from it."

I quickly suppressed the disturbance within .

'Francec agreed? He let himself be sold to Ivan?'

That was unexpected. It hadn’t even been a possibility in my calculations.

"And what did you gain from it?"

"The future."

Ilay’s blue eyes, devoid of hesitation, locked onto mine. I couldn't tell if he was lying.

"You think barely surviving in imprisonnt counts as a future?"

"Otherwise, he would have been completely crushed, losing even the slightest chance. During the Storm Era, Francec made enemies of the noble factions. That was a critical flaw. Ivan, on the other hand, was willing to weaken imperial authority if it ant pacifying the nobles and pulling them to his side."

"And why imprison him instead of killing him?"

"Francec’s existence draws in dissidents who oppose Ivan. There have already been multiple rescue attempts. Doesn’t this setup feel familiar? Of course, right now, *Akies Domini*, the Overseer, is vacant. Though, for all I know, one might be lurking sowhere beyond my reach."

Francec was a beacon. His very presence lured moths to the fla, leading them to their deaths.

'They’re still frighteningly good at this. How very imperial of them.'

Ilay was deeply entangled in the Empire’s darkness—perhaps even more so than I had been in the past.

"And then there’s you. Ivan wanted you in his hands. He must’ve found a clue to bringing you back from the state of total incapacitation. But sothing about it didn’t feel right. It wouldn’t have been the real Luka—it would’ve been sothing else, just wearing the shell of your mories. If I wanted to smuggle you out of the Empire, even for a brief mont, I needed to divert Ivan’s attention elsewhere. Francec was the perfect bait."

I stared at my half-finished glass of milk. Then, tilting the bottle of liquor on the table, I filled the rest of my glass. It would probably taste awful, but I wasn’t drinking for the flavor.

Gulp, gulp.

My throat moved roughly as I swallowed. The burning aftertaste of alcohol surged up. I already knew whose na would co up next.

"You used Giselle to get out."

"At the ti of Francec’s arrest, Ivan’s attention was entirely focused on that operation. He couldn’t just round people up and purge them indiscriminately. And even though he knew Giselle smuggled you out, pressing the issue wasn’t easy. Giselle’s influence was significant. Unlike other corporations, G&G primarily manufactured products for the lower and middle classes. The daughter of the noble family that once housed Luka, the noble hunter, was producing goods for the common people—naturally, she had strong support in the lower districts."

"Even for Ivan, after imprisoning Francec—a figure highly popular among the lower districts—he couldn’t afford to go after Giselle and the Custoria family as well."

"After Giselle disappeared, conspiracy theories ran rampant, and the imperial family’s reputation took a serious hit. There were even a couple of uprisings, so small, so not so small."

Ilay must have done his best. I let out a bitter smile. Ragnata’s words echoed in my mind.

‘That scheming bastard would’ve done anything for you.’

If what Ilay was saying was true, then he had acted for my sake. He had gone to great lengths to pull out of Ivan’s grasp. And as proof of his efforts, I was here—free from the Empire.

‘If this isn’t all a lie, that is.’

My bad habit flared up again—assuming the worst. That’s why I always kept betrayal in mind.

‘It’s not that I don’t trust Ilay.’

If an unexpected fight broke out right now and Ilay lost consciousness, I would risk my life to protect him.

But that didn’t change the fact that I always prepared for despair, for the worst-case scenario.

I would *always* consider the possibility of Ilay’s betrayal. Even so, I was softer than before. In the past, I hadn’t just factored in betrayal—I had *assud* everyone had ill intentions toward . That was how I lost Hemillas.

"Listen carefully, Luka. The real problem was Giselle. She smuggled you out of the Empire but then started operating on her own, keeping information even from . She thoroughly erased any trace of your whereabouts. For whatever reason, she didn’t trust ."

"She deceived even you?"

"Luka, Giselle is a corporate leader. She’s not the noble lady you rember. She killed quite a few people to ensure silence. The dead don’t talk, after all—especially when their brains are smashed to pulp."

"Lies... No, keep talking, Ilay. Just shut up and keep going."

I shook my head, gritting my teeth hard.