Chapter 17
The crew member cautiously glanced at Rüdiger before asking,
“Colonel, what time should I prepare dinner?”
“Has it gotten that late already? I suppose Ms. Judith can’t manage it after all.”
“It seems so.”
“Even so, wouldn’t you like to have at least some soup?”
Although I didn’t have an appetite due to indigestion, I felt a little awkward staying silent while everyone else ate… I nodded slightly.
“Then let’s do that.”
“Prepare dinner now. For the lady, only soup.”
Even as he issued the orders, Rüdiger kept massaging my hand. Naturally, his gaze was fixed on it as well.
He didn’t glance at anyone else until the crew member left the room. His skill in dismissing others from his sight was remarkable.
Was it natural for him to give orders like that, or just indifference toward others? Do all nobles behave this way?
Every time Rüdiger treated someone like that, I couldn’t help but shrink my shoulders in discomfort. I couldn’t believe the man massaging my hand was the same one giving authoritative commands to others.
Yet the crew and the store staff behaved as if Rüdiger treating people that way was completely normal.
“Well, his rank is Duke, and his social status is Colonel. He probably receives respect more often than he gives it.”
I still couldn’t get used to this class-based society.
Just because Rüdiger was kind to me didn’t make me a noble. It was simply a courtesy extended because I was Aunt Luca.
In short, there was no real class difference between them and me—I was just temporarily stepping into this world thanks to Rüdiger’s favor.
“If I get too accustomed to this, it’ll cause trouble.”
I reminded myself repeatedly: don’t overstep; know your place. Any mistake now could be disastrous.
Of course, that didn’t mean I was going to reject Rüdiger’s firm, pleasant hand massage.
I blinked slowly. The touch felt good.
Soon, a wagon full of dishes arrived. The savory aroma teased my nose, but my appetite remained absent.
I slowly rose to my feet. While Rüdiger, already at the table, waited to pull out my chair, the crew member bent down to bring dishes from the lower tier of the wagon.
Then, Luca, who was beside me, suddenly paused and grabbed the hem of my skirt.
“Why, Luca?” I stopped and looked back. Luca didn’t answer but stared at the crew member.
Could it be? In a split second, I realized something and looked at the crew member.
Just then, the crew member stood up. Instead of dishes, a submachine gun was in his hands. My body froze the instant I saw the muzzle.
W-what? Was the assassination today?
Any thoughts about capturing the assassin or dealing with him had long since vanished from my mind.
I couldn’t move at all, and it was laughable how helpless I felt.
Before I could react, the gun fired.
Tatatatatata!
The rapid bursts of gunfire rang out. Luckily, the muzzle wasn’t aimed at me.
Rüdiger, realizing the gun was pointed at him, immediately took cover behind the table.
For such a large man, his movements were astonishingly quick. He drew a pistol from his hip with practiced ease and shot at the crew member.
Bang, bang!
“Ugh!”
Bullets grazed the assassin posing as a crew member, spraying blood. The assassin quickly hid behind the wagon, facing off against Rüdiger.
I barely managed to take cover behind the sofa, holding Luca close.
I hugged Luca tightly, catching my breath behind the sofa. How powerful is a submachine gun? In movies, they usually go right through sofas…
“No, it’s fine. Nothing will happen. Even in the original story, nothing happened. Stay calm… stay calm.”
I took a deep breath. My hands, still holding Luca, trembled, but my mind was far calmer than before.
I glanced sideways at the situation. I worried the gun might be aimed at us, but the assassin’s focus was solely on Rüdiger.
Perhaps he thought that after eliminating Rüdiger, killing Luca and me would be easy.
What comes next? I recalled the original story and what I needed to do, breathing steadily.
The assassin had a submachine gun, whereas Rüdiger had a revolver.
Clearly at a disadvantage in firepower, Rüdiger was still a man capable of making the impossible possible.
The submachine guns of this era were crude. The assassin, losing firepower quickly, would eventually switch to a knife, but Rüdiger would still be more than a match.
Eventually, the assassin would flee, only to be shot by Rüdiger while pursuing him, and meet his end.
I couldn’t risk killing him outright, as it was crucial to uncover his connection to Franz.
Yet seeing bullets fly so close made the thought of capturing him alive almost impossible.
“No. I can do this,” I muttered to myself. There was actually a way.
The plan: wait for the assassin to flee.
In the original story, Rüdiger aimed precisely at the assassin’s head, but I could aim for his leg instead. That would simplify things considerably.
As I calculated scenarios in my head, the gunfight began to subside.
Firepower battles in this world rarely last long, usually ending in melee combat.
Amidst the intermittent gunfire, Rüdiger gritted his teeth and shouted,
“Ms. Judith, escape with Luca!”
Finally, I realized Luca was with me, not alone. Luca peeked over the sofa to assess the situation.
Worried he might act recklessly, I held him down and said,
“Luca! It’s dangerous!”
“You’re the dangerous one, Auntie. Stay put.”
I had no words. I was so exasperated that my grip on him slackened, and Luca seized the opportunity, breaking free and springing forward.
“Ah, Luca!” I tried to grab him, but my fingers barely brushed his clothes.
Luca rushed straight at the assassin. The assassin clicked his gun toward Luca—but the bullets had run out.
Luca swung something shiny at the assassin. It was a dining knife.
“When did he even get that?” I gaped in disbelief.
The assassin, no fool, swung his blade at Luca.
Luca dodged skillfully. I hadn’t realized he could move so fast; I was dumbfounded.
From a distance, it looked like Luca was holding his own against the assassin.
If only Rüdiger could hit the assassin’s leg now—but with Luca there, he couldn’t aim properly.
The assassin, tussling with Luca, gritted his teeth.
“This damn kid…!”
He swung his sword at Luca, who barely blocked it.
But a ten-year-old child couldn’t fully withstand an adult’s strength with just a dining knife.
Luca’s body lifted off the ground, collapsing helplessly like a leaf in the wind.
“Luca!” I ran to him. His face twisted in pain, letting out muffled groans.
“Why did you get in the way…!” I scolded in worry. I couldn’t understand why he had inserted himself between Rüdiger and the assassin.
Meanwhile, the assassin approached us. I froze as he came right in front of me, sword raised.
I hugged Luca tightly with my right arm and raised my left arm above my head.
I didn’t plan to block the sword with my arm; instinctively, I shielded my head.
The assassin’s blade came down like a guillotine, seemingly aiming to cut through my arm.
Bang!
Rüdiger fired at the assassin’s arm just in time. The blade grazed my arm, sparing me serious injury.
A burning sensation spread where the blade passed, dampening my clothes.
“Ugh…” I grimaced, wondering if there was tetanus medicine in the first aid kit.
Surprisingly, it was Luca who shouted, pale but fierce:
“Auntie!”
