I’m Trying to End This Possession Chapter 290

“That woman is a witch! If you let her go, she’ll take revenge on us.”

 

“…Revenge?”

 

What was he suddenly talking about?

 

At that moment, Anton warned him in a low voice. “Rumie, shut your mouth.”

 

“No. He needs to know. If he knows, he won’t try to wake that woman up! He needs to know that she’ll take revenge on us because we were going to offer her as a human sacrifice to the Somora religion!”

 

It was horrifying. Seeing that face, so much like his own, cowering and babbling like the biggest coward in the world was utterly disgusting.

 

“That woman isn’t in her right mind! She’s insane! The Somora religion drove her into the most extreme terror and tormented her until she was on the verge of madness! So she really did go insane and killed everyone with some grotesque power! If she regains consciousness, she’ll take revenge on us aga—!”

 

Bang! At that instant, a bullet struck the man in the forehead. He collapsed backward without even managing a groan. Thud.

 

“Kyaaah!” Ingria screamed belatedly. Clutching the fallen man’s corpse, she wailed. “W-What have you done?! No, Rumie! Rumie!”

 

“Damn it. How dare that lowborn b*stard.” Anton Rolland, who had shot the man, was breathing heavily. His pupils were wide, as though he too had lost his reason. “I doted on you and spoiled you all this time, and you dare crawl up from wherever you came from and wag that filthy mouth of yours. A mere gigolo daring to spew such nonsense at my grandson…”

 

“Grandfather.”

 

Anton’s muttering abruptly stopped.

 

“What did you do to Danaena?”

 

“…”

 

Anton did not answer. Even through the haze clouding his mind, he had realized it. He saw every bit of the razor-sharp resolve in Rumie’s eyes. “You.” A sharp sense of betrayal flashed across Anton’s face. “What are you thinking right now?”

 

“…”

 

“Are you planning to abandon me over that one woman, Danaena?”

 

“…”

 

“You, to me?” Anton let out a hollow laugh. He reached out and roughly seized Rumie’s face. “You’re thinking of turning against me, over a woman? You?” But soon, the strength drained from his grip. Thump. Anton’s hand fell limply to his side.

 

“Fine… Rather than watch you betray me…” The next moment, Anton Rolland abruptly raised his gun. He swiftly aimed it at Danaena’s head. “I’d rather kill that thing!” And without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

 

“…!”

 

No, he couldn’t. There was no strength in his fingertips, his grip, his arm, even his shoulder…

 

What’s going on? Anton looked down toward his neck. Then he found the reason his strength had left him. A sharp piece of metal, a dagger, had pierced the back of his neck, severing his tendons. He understood what had happened, yet he simply could not comprehend the sight before him. No. He couldn’t believe—

 

“…!” Anton’s eyes widened. The chill advanced toward him, as though this was not the end. No, the force in Rumie’s movements, utterly devoid of hesitation… He simply couldn’t believe it. “Ru, mie.”

 

Rumie looked into those eyes. His grandfather’s eyes, torn apart by pain and betrayal. He stared straight into them as he drove the dagger deeper.

 

“Kh, keugh.”

 

Anton’s face twisted with shock and agony. Yet Rumie, facing him, was astonishingly calm. As he pressed the dagger deeper, further inside, he spoke. “You mustn’t do that.”

 

“Uh, ugh, gah.”

 

“You mustn’t, Grandfather.”

 

“Uh, keugh…!”

 

Thud. At last, the gun fell from Anton’s hand.

 

When Rumie pulled out the dagger, blood immediately gushed from the wound. Anton clutched his neck, his lips moving weakly. “You…” His voice was terribly hoarse. “You…”

 

Thunk. His grandfather’s body crumpled to the floor. That was the end. The end.

 

Rumie stared down at the corpse with an expressionless face. What shocked him more than the fact that he had impulsively killed his grandfather at that very moment was that, despite everything, he felt not the slightest regret.

 

“Y… You…”

 

Rumie slowly turned his head. Ingria was sitting on the floor, trembling.

 

“You, what have you done?”

 

“As you can see.” Rumie wiped the blood splattered across his face as he answered.

 

“H-How could you, do something like that? He cared about you so much, just how much he loved you…”

 

Rumie knew. He, too, loved his grandfather. But… he couldn’t just let Danaena die, could he? No matter how much his grandfather had been the guardian who had saved his life, his teacher, and a father-like figure to him. As long as that grandfather intended to kill Danaena, could Rumie really allow him to keep breathing?

 

That resolve, that reasoning, was so perfect that he could not even question it. And that was what was so bizarre.

 

“How could you do something so ungrateful!”

 

Rumie bent down and picked up the gun his grandfather had dropped.

 

“Insane. Crazy. Madman. You’re insane.” Ingria grabbed at her disheveled hair and tore at it. “Ha, haha. Yes. I suppose blood really can’t lie. That filthy, barbaric blood flowing through your veins.”

 

Click. Rumie checked the magazine.

 

“Hahaha, aha. Shall, shall I tell you something amusing, Rumie?”

 

There was one bullet left. It was fortunate for Ingria. She wouldn’t have to suffer.

 

“Listen. You probably have the filthiest, most disgusting blood in this entire world. There isn’t a single person on this continent with a more vile lineage than you!”

 

Rumie aimed the gun at her.

 

As though she had foreseen her own end, Ingria babbled like a madwoman. “Half your blood comes from a gigolo who makes a living selling his beauty, and the other half comes from an utterly vicious and savage pirate!”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Your Rolland ancestors slaughtered an entire noble family and stole their genealogy, disguising themselves as nobles—!”

 

“I understand perfectly well.”

 

Bang! The bullet struck Ingria in the left breast. As though it had pierced her heart instantly, she collapsed helplessly to the side. It overlapped with the body of that gigolo she called his biological father.

 

Only then… finally, the room fell silent. Rumie breathed quietly. At last, everyone had shut up. At last. Fortunately, there was no longer any sound coming from inside the orb too. Perhaps that long and violent affair had ended, leaving behind only the sound of steady breathing. Suddenly, Rumie remembered something he had heard from inside the orb not long ago.

 

[You’re the kind of guy who’d abandon your lord and turn your back on your friend, even gladly trample over your own parents, all because you’re bewitched by a woman.]

 

[They say even a dog won’t bite its master.]

 

[You’re worse than a dog.]

 

Now that he thought about it, that man had known him remarkably well. Even Rumie himself thought he was truly low, vulgar, and filthy. Which was why, even now… that part of him was still swollen and throbbing. As though he himself had experienced the climax he had tasted inside the orb, he was still intoxicated by its lingering afterglow. Even at a moment like this, when he had killed his wife and his grandfather… But did that matter?

 

Rumie walked over to Danaena. As he untied the ropes binding her, he spoke quietly. “Let’s go home now.”

 

Danaena was safe. That was all that really mattered.