How Lilies turn Black Chapter 67 - Legal Illegality (8)

 

“The…! Profit…!”

 

One of the lurking employees lunged at them. 

 

At the sudden commotion, Silvano, who had been smoking, turned his head mid-puff.

 

“Huh?”

 

The moment he caught sight of the blade slicing through the air, his body moved instinctively. 

 

Silvano twisted his waist fluidly, grabbing and twisting the arm of the man who had thrust toward him.

“Ah—aaack!”

 

A pained scream erupted under the brutal grip. The man dropped the dagger he had been clutching ambitiously, clutching his twisted arm instead.

 

Meanwhile, Silvano only fully processed the situation after his body had already reacted…

 

“Huh?”

 

Noticing the dagger clattering to the floor, he raised an eyebrow a beat too late.

 

“A knife? Trying to stab me?”

 

“Ugh, this… let go…!”

 

“Who the hell are you?”

 

“Ah… ughh…”

 

“Where the hell did you pop out from, causing a scene like this?”

 

Whether it was disbelief or uncontrollable irritation, Silvano flung the employee into a corner as if throwing him away. Then, he picked up the dagger from the floor and walked toward him.

 

“Pathetic. You must’ve been fully prepared to stab me with this, right? Weren’t you?”

 

Silvano smirked, examining the crude dagger. But by the time he reached the man, any trace of amusement had vanished without a trace.

 

“Get up, you clueless bastard.”

 

No way he was getting up. Who could keep their cool in front of an armed thug?

 

The employee, who had been aiming for a decisive strike, had already lost all will to fight, consumed by sheer terror.

 

“Ugh… ahh… ugh…”

 

“I said get up.”

 

Had his patience run out? 

 

Silvano placed the cigarette back between his lips and roughly grabbed the man by the collar.

 

The man was dragged straight up along the wooden wall, his head firmly fixed to the center of the dartboard hanging on it.

 

Silvano didn’t seem to have planned it that way, but seeing it must have piqued his interest.

 

“Oh-ho.”

 

“…”

 

“This makes for a nice picture. Want to see something fun?”

 

The corner of his lips, holding a cigarette, curled up mischievously. 

 

Of course, in that situation, Silvano was the only one enjoying himself.

 

The man shook his head frantically, as if an earthquake had struck, but his will meant nothing. 

 

Silvano gripped his collar tightly and began tossing a dagger in the air with his other hand, catching it repeatedly.

 

“Let’s see… where do I gotta hit this bastard to score 50 points?”

 

“P-please… I-I’m sorry…”

 

“Shhh, quiet-quiet. Don’t ruin my focus.”

 

Then, squinting hard, he fixed his gaze on the target. 

 

As if planning to hit the dartboard with the dagger, he adjusted his grip and took a ready stance.

 

The man’s face was streaked with tears and snot… but Silvano paid no mind, swinging his arm back and forth to gauge the trajectory.

 

“Hmm?”

 

His eyes, brimming with excitement, suddenly turned cold. The first to sense the approaching danger was his keen, finely honed instinct.

 

Silvano reflexively jerked his body back. But in the corner where two walls met, there wasn’t much space to dodge.

 

Crash!

 

An old wooden chair smashed into Silvano. His body staggered violently from the blow to his temple, and the impact was equally felt by the chair—shattered pieces scattering in all directions. 

 

Everyone instinctively shut their eyes.

 

When they opened them again, the air was thick with swirling dust… and right in the middle stood Silvano, miraculously still upright.

 

A heavy silence fell.

 

“…Ah, fuck.”

 

Silvano muttered under his breath as he raised his hand and brushed the side of his face. His skin had split—his palm was now smeared with blood.

The pain didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that some nameless nobodies had managed to leave a mark like this on him.

 

“…So it wasn’t a solo act, but a group effort?”

 

By the time Silvano lifted his head again, the owner—who had been trembling while clutching a broken chair leg—had gone deathly pale.

A black-haired beast, half his face drenched in blood, was glaring at him with blazing eyes.

 

“Ah— H-Huh…! S-Sir, uh—”

 

The attack had failed spectacularly. The man they thought would at least be knocked out was standing tall, staring right back at him. The owner flinched, even hiccuping in fear. 

 

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t even have the courage to retreat further.

 

“Take one more step. I dare you.”

 

“…!”

 

At the murderous warning, the man froze like a statue, rooted in place. His shoulders hunched up high, trembling with terror.

 

But the gaze fixed on him was utterly indifferent. 

 

Far from charging in a frenzy, Silvano moved with deliberate slowness, bending down at the waist.

 

“…You little shits, every last one of you.”

 

“…”

 

“Where the hell did you even sell off your common sense?”

 

What he picked up, muttering to himself, was a cigarette butt quietly dying among the scattered debris. 

 

Just minutes ago, he’d been puffing away relentlessly—until someone forced him to drop it on the floor.

 

Now here he was, putting a half-burned piece of trash back in his mouth. What would onlookers think? They probably realized—they’d just ruined the one small pleasure Silvano had in this place.

 

The owner and the employee had huddled close together at some point, stealing nervous glances at him as if awaiting a death sentence. 

 

And under their fearful stares, Silvano took one last, satisfying drag from the nearly spent cigarette.

 

“Whew…”

 

A hazy swirl of smoke enveloped him. As if savoring the lingering taste, Silvano closed his eyes briefly, but the stub of the cigarette, now too short to smoke further, offered nothing more.

“…Goddamn bastards. What a fucking waste.”

He let out a curse like a sigh and slowly opened his eyes. Staring straight at the two men, Silvano twisted his lips into a crooked grin.

What followed was an act no one could have anticipated.

Sizzle!

He crushed the cigarette against his tongue, already soaked in blood, extinguishing it.

“…!”

Enjoying their horrified gazes, Silvano flicked the crushed butt onto the floor.

Step by step. With every movement, the trembling in the two men’s bodies grew more violent, yet his footsteps toward them remained light and careless.

“This all you got?”

 

💫

 

Ding-dong. Ding-dong—

Demercy. Wince Street. Proud Building, 13th floor.

The sudden chime of the doorbell pulled Liliana away from her paperwork.

Who could it be? No one had mentioned visiting.

The only people who knew where she lived were Paul, Theodoro, and Vincent—and none of them were the type to show up unannounced without good reason.

‘Well, Vincent had his reasons last time, given the circumstances… But still, what’s going on?’

Had something serious enough happened to warrant an urgent visit? Liliana bit her lip anxiously as she walked toward the entrance.

Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong—

By then, the frivolous ringing had sounded three more times, and her expression gradually hardened. 

 

The Benedetti family wouldn’t keep pressing the doorbell until she answered.

From that moment, Liliana moved silently, tiptoeing toward the front door.

‘Who is it…?’

She peered through the peephole, but all she could see was a pitch-black circle. Whoever was outside had completely blocked the view, making it impossible to discern their appearance.

 

If someone had made it all the way up to the 13th floor, their identity must have already been verified. 

 

Yet, despite knowing that, her voice trembled thinly as it escaped her lips.

“Who… are you?”

“It’s me.”

A glimmer of light flickered across her dull, sunken eyes. That smooth, easygoing voice belonged to someone she knew all too well.

“Silvano?”

The tension that had curled her limbs dissipated helplessly, and without hesitation, Liliana swung the front door open.

 

She shouldn’t have done that. At the very least, she should have prepared herself mentally before turning the doorknob. 

 

How could she have known that when the door opened, she’d be met with the ghastly visage of a ghost drenched in crimson?

“Ahh—!”

In a fleeting 0.1-second moment, her heart plummeted straight to her feet. 

 

A scream tore from her throat as she immediately slammed the door shut again. But her attempt was instantly rendered futile.

Thud!

A foot slid through the gap in the door, blocking it from closing.

“Now now, Master, since when do you turn me away at the door?”

The grinning ghost tilted his head forward, the corners of his lips quirking up. 

 

Against the deep red staining his entire face, the unnaturally white sclera of his eyes gleamed starkly.

“Aaahhh—!”

Liliana collapsed onto the tiled floor, nearly fainting on the spot.

 

Silvano seemed genuinely taken aback by her extreme reaction, but apparently, he couldn’t hold back his laughter. Biting down hard on his lips, he knelt before her.

“Hah… Pfft.”

“…”

“Why are you so scared?”

Then, he stretched out an arm, cupping her face with his hand before gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

 

Silvano, that damn man. That… that wretched bastard.