"Charlotte," Jack said softly.
Shards of glass appeared in the air beside him, spinning and swirling like a cyclone. They drew together, forming the shape of a woman.
When the fragnts settled, a dark-haired girl stood there, face hidden behind a mask, clothed entirely in black.
Benedict’s mind flashed through every mory. Jack the Ripper didn’t have allies, not in the original story.
Who the hell is that girl?
The noble crowd stood frozen, jaws slack, watching the Solas Bridge collapse into ruin. All of them were gathered behind Benedict.
So trembled in fear. Others glared daggers at Jack the Ripper. A few whispered desperately, plotting a way to escape.
"Don’t even think about running," Jack the Ripper said, eyes locking on the ones whispering.
Benedict ignored them. His gaze had shifted to the black-haired woman beside Jack—eyes like pools of ink, half-hidden behind a mask. Her expression was unreadable, perfectly still.
Who is she?
Benedict’s attention returned to Jack the Ripper, just as Jack t his eyes.
[SSS Hypnosis Activated – Target: Jack the Ripper – Lvl: Error! Error! Unable to read!]
Benedict’s lips tightened into a nervous grin. He couldn’t read the man’s level. That was impossible. SSS Hypnosis could read anyone’s stats— even soone at max level.
So why not him?
"Pardon, why were your eyes glowing red?" Jack asked with a smile that was far too casual.
Damn it. He noticed?
[SSS Hypnosis Deactivated]
Benedict turned his head away from Jack, then reactivated his hypnosis.
[SSS Hypnosis Activated – Target: Benedict Veritas]
"Don’t be afraid. Sharpen your focus. Feel no fatigue, no pain. Stay calm," Benedict murmured under his breath, hypnotizing himself.
He raised his head, straightening his posture, and fixed his gaze on Jack.
"Jack the Ripper. What’s your purpose here?" His voice was level, emotionless.
"Ah, right. One mont." Jack stepped forward, healing the injury on his left arm with a touch of his right hand.
He cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlen, may this humble nobody make a small request?" Both hands rested politely over his chest.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT, CRIMINAL?!" a noble barked from the back.
"My, my... mind your tongue," Jack said, pouting slightly yet still smiling.
Benedict’s head snapped toward the shouting noble.
Idiot.
Jack extended his palm toward the man.
"Fireball."
A sphere of fla burst to life, hurtling forward.
Boom!
The noble’s scream was cut short as fire consud him whole. Within monts, nothing remained but drifting ash.
The rest of the nobles clamped their mouths shut, holding back whatever screams threatened to escape.
Now they understood. None of them could afford to act like that man. The only thing they could do was listen to whatever Jack had to say.
"Good. Now... does anyone else feel like speaking up?" Jack asked, his voice dripping with intimidation.
The nobles shook their heads furiously.
"Excellent. In that case, I’d like you all to gather here and line up in front of ." He conjured again those white shears with black blotches.
Faces went pale.
Benedict stepped forward alone, stopping five ters from Jack.
"And what do you plan to do by making us line up?" His eyes were sharp.
He’d already thought of a way to handle this—he just needed ti. Earlier, he’d spotted a soldier slip away using so kind of skill. That soldier would likely be calling for reinforcents. Benedict also hoped Alice would arrive soon.
All he had to do... was buy ti.
"Oh, just a little inspection of the fine ladies and gentlen here," Jack said in a friendly tone.
Benedict studied his expression. Nothing. Completely unreadable. He glanced at the black-haired girl beside him. Worse. Her lips were pressed in a perfect, lifeless line.
What does he an by "inspection"What exactly does he plan to check?
"What kind of inspection, exactly?" Benedict pressed.
"hmm... the neatness of your clothes, of course." Jack tapped his chin with a finger.
Benedict’s fist clenched. He wasn’t going to get a straight answer.
"And if we refuse?" His voice was low.
Jack rubbed his chin, then inhaled deeply.
"If you refuse... you’ll all die here!" His voice bood, making sure everyone heard.
Benedict clicked his tongue. Like it or not, he’d have to get everyone to cooperate, for now.
Turning, he walked slowly back toward the nobles. He was just a duke’s illegitimate son—convincing them would be an uphill battle.
"Everyone! Jack the Ripper wants us to gather and line up!" he called.
Suspicion, confusion, and anger filled the eyes that t his.
One noble laughed dryly.
"You... you brought him here! Or have you forgotten, bastard?"
Benedict’s brow furrowed.
"What do you an?"
As far as he rembered, Jack had simply appeared behind Ben Over. He hadn’t "brought" anyone here, except that man on the bicycle earlier.
Wait... wait. No! Damn it! Could it be...?
He rembered Marisol’s earlier scream.
’Get away from him! He’s Jack the Rip—’
"Have you forgotten?! That man who brought you earlier—that was Jack the Ripper!"
"Didn’t you see him change his appearance?! Idiot!"
"Yeah, bastard! You’re the reason we’re trapped here!"
"You’re working with him, aren’t you? Traitor! Kingdom trash!"
"Didn’t you hear the ergency announcent in the city square about Jack the Ripper on a bicycle, huh?!"
Announcent?
Benedict hadn’t heard a single thing back at Rafaela’s shop.
Of course, any announcent would’ve been drowned out by the cheers and laughter from the crowd mocking Mike Hawk after Benedict humiliated him.
The insults kept coming, venomous and relentless. Benedict had no idea that the cyclist earlier had been Jack the Ripper. No clue about any "ergency announcent" in the square.
All he’d been doing... was trying to survive.
Who could have guessed that brown-haired commoner was Jack the Ripper himself?
"And why should we trust the word of a bastard like you?!" The nobles’ voices overlapped into one unified sneer.
Benedict’s face stayed calm and still, though inside, old wounds reopened—the sa sting from years of mockery, now reignited.
And then... a selfish thought crossed his mind.
Maybe I should just leave these damn nobles to their fate.
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