Chapter 57

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The cliché and tedious networking event dubbed the ‘Night of the Arts’ was scheduled for the very next day.

While Grondil moved busily in and out of the estate, he received minute-by-minute reports on Lino’s status: whether he was safely in his room, if he emerged from the study exactly at the promised time, and whether he was making any suspicious contact with Yuneria or other unidentified individuals.

Almost all the staff previously employed at the Duke’s estate had been dismissed, leaving only a skeletal crew. The sole exception to this mass firing was the security detail, which had actually seen an increase in personnel. This bolstered force was meant to reinforce the perimeter and protect Lino within the mansion.

“That’s not protection; that’s surveillance,” Lino grumbled as he stepped into the study, recalling the guard who had shadowed him right up to the door.

He tilted his head back, examining the study’s windows he had been eyeing for the past few days. Designed to protect the books from sun damage, the windows were quite small and positioned high up on the wall. Yet, not a single trace of worry shadowed Lino’s face.

He had already climbed up to those windows several times during his visits to the study. Because the ceiling was exceptionally high, the bookshelves were correspondingly massive, requiring a rolling ladder so tall it would paralyze anyone with a fear of heights. Perhaps because the study was on the second floor and the windows were set near the ceiling, there were no iron bars blocking the way.

The only real challenge left was slipping through the frame and safely descending to the first-floor garden. The exterior of the study was constructed from off-white stone, beautifully embossed with protruding vine motifs. Although the drop was high, there were more than enough footholds to climb down.

Today was the day Lino was scheduled to meet Baron Haklan.

The current time was 6:20 PM. Having told the staff he would eat dinner in the study, Erin had prepared a heavily stuffed baguette sandwich for him. Now, Lino stood with a thick book he had borrowed two days ago but hadn’t read a single page of in one hand, and the sandwich basket in the other.

He slotted the book back into its original place on the shelf and set the basket on the reading table. As he rolled his neck and shoulders to loosen his stiff muscles, a brutal crack! echoed through the quiet room. The sound was so violently loud that even Lino was startled. I really haven’t been training at all, he realized. If someone asked his occupation right now, he would have to say he was unemployed.

Slowly rotating his knees and ankles, Lino’s gaze fell upon the pen and notepad provided on the table.

Hmm… It’ll be a disaster if I just leave without saying anything, right? 

The tip of the pen hovered aimlessly over the crisp white paper, unable to leave even a single dot. He had no idea what excuse to write. Claiming he ‘had to pop out to the market for an errand’ was far too random. Writing that he was ‘going to meet a friend’ would never work, considering Grondil’s intelligence network had undoubtedly dug up every detail of his life by now. And he certainly couldn’t claim Yuneria as a friend.

Yuneria wasn’t currently at the estate. He had returned to the Marquis’s residence the previous day to assist his mother, the Marchioness, in preparing for her ‘Night of the Arts’ event.

The only people currently occupying the mansion were Lino, Enoch, and the security team. Grondil was out with Erin finalizing preparations for something—what exactly, Lino had no clue, but they seemed incredibly busy. Enoch had remained behind, but he wasn’t by Lino’s side; he was sequestered in Grondil’s office, sweating profusely as he continuously fielded phone calls to handle Isberg’s affairs in his master’s stead.

With Grondil, Erin, and Enoch all completely tied up, no one would notice if Lino stayed holed up in the study for two hours instead of one. Even if they did, they would simply assume he had lost track of time while engrossed in a book.

On paper, sneaking out of the mansion seemed like a breeze.

In reality, it was a nightmare.

The increased security presence made finding a blind spot incredibly difficult. With more time, he could have meticulously mapped out their patrol routes and shift changes, but two days was hardly enough to gather actionable intel for an escape.

His only advantages were that the study window was a viable exit, a heavy fog had rolled in tonight to obscure the garden lights, and he knew the exact location of the servants’ entrance. It was only three variables, but it was enough to make the escape possible.

Anyway, what do I write? It’s better than leaving without a word.

Twirling the pen in thought, Lino let out a short sigh and decided to just be honest.

I am stepping out for a moment to meet Baron Haklan. He contacted me first. I won’t cause any trouble in a foreign country, so please do not worry. I will return shortly. Meeting Location: Zetina Kingdom, Injiu District 12, Unit 9-11, 1st Floor. We are scheduled to meet at 8:00.

He had told them not to worry, but in truth, he was terrified. That was exactly why he included the time and location. Folding the note in half, he tucked it slightly under the sandwich basket. He slipped a hand inside his uniform jacket to verify his gear. A sword would have been far more familiar, but he couldn’t lug a longblade through a tiny window. Still, the dagger strapped to the sole of his boot offered a small measure of comfort.

“Alright, let’s get moving.”

Muttering a quiet breath of exertion, Lino began scaling the massive bookshelf positioned directly beneath the window. He climbed the ladder as far as it would take him, then gripped the highest shelf and hauled his body up. The furniture was so dense and heavy that it didn’t even sway under his weight.

Upon reaching his destination, he swiftly detached the windowpane from its frame and peered outside. He spotted the faint beams of the security team’s flashlights patrolling in the distance, but the fog muffled their presence. As long as he didn’t make any loud noises, he wouldn’t be caught.

Checking to ensure his head could fit through the gap, Lino stripped off his uniform jacket and rolled it tightly to protect the emergency weapon concealed in its inner pocket. He tossed the bundled jacket out the window first, then squeezed his legs through. His thighs and pelvis cleared the frame without issue.

However.

“Ah, fuck.”

His chest got stuck. He had always known his pecs were unusually pronounced, but he never imagined they would become a literal bottleneck.

Lino exhaled sharply, forcefully emptying the air from his ribcage to compress his torso, and desperately pushed forward. Only his chest, shoulders, and head remained, but panic was setting in. Without knowing the security team’s exact patrol routes, someone could walk beneath him at any second.

Ugh. It hurts.

Shoving his body through the tight space caused his nipples to scrape brutally against the rough window frame.

Just last night, Grondil had sucked on Lino’s chest like hard candy. He had chewed on his nipples like gum and ruthlessly kneaded his pecs like bread dough with those massive hands. As a result, his chest and nipples—now being mercilessly crushed against the unyielding frame—ached enough to bring tears to his eyes.

His soft pectoral muscles were brutally mashed against the frame before he finally popped through. The rest was relatively easy. His broad shoulders required a bit of maneuvering, but he twisted his torso and slipped free. Ignoring his throbbing chest, Lino carefully placed his boots on the protruding stone vines and gracefully descended to the garden floor.

Hastily throwing his jacket back on, he sprinted toward the rear entrance primarily used by the staff. Lino’s naturally light footwork produced almost zero sound against the grass, and whatever faint noise he made was swallowed by the thick fog, keeping him hidden from the guards’ ears.

The servants’ back door was located near their living quarters at the rear of the estate. Because there were fewer than ten staff members currently residing there, it was the least guarded area on the property.

Panting heavily from his first full sprint in a long time, Lino reached the back door, only to find it secured by a heavy padlock. If he had his tools, he could have snipped it, but he couldn’t exactly carry bolt cutters through a second-story window.

Instead, he pulled a small, black object from his jacket pocket: a handgun. He fished several rectangular attachments from his trousers, clicking them rapidly onto the barrel to assemble a silencer. Wrapping his jacket tightly around the gun and his firing hand for extra muffling, he aimed at the padlock.

Please let this silencer be top-tier.

The garden was so dead silent that even a suppressed gunshot would echo. Whether it was the security team or Enoch, the moment they heard it, they would swarm this location.

What do I do? 

With his finger resting on the trigger, Lino hesitated. A desperate urge washed over him to just go back, confess everything to Grondil, and ask him what to do. But the scheduled meeting time was rapidly approaching. Squeezing his eyes shut, Lino pulled the trigger.

Crack—!

The gunshot fractured the stillness of the garden. 

Clang! 

The broken padlock hit the ground. The silencer had dampened the noise, but not nearly as much as Lino had prayed for. He could already sense the frantic movement of guards sprinting toward the rear quarters from all directions.

Screw it. I’ll meet that bastard Baron first, figure out what this ‘secret’ is, and worry about the rest later.

Kicking the back door open, Lino bolted. From far behind him, he heard shouts piercing the fog: “Hey, who’s there?! Intruder! Stop right there!”

Sorry, everyone. You probably haven’t even digested your dinner yet, and now you have to run because of me. 

Apologizing internally to the security team who were about to face Grondil and Enoch’s wrath, Lino sprinted toward the main road and flagged down the first taxi he saw. It wasn’t a car, but a motorcycle taxi.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Pant, pant… Zetina, Injiu District 12,” Lino gasped out.

The driver turned his head, eyeing Lino’s breathless state. “What, someone chasing you?”

“Haha. No. I ran away because I didn’t want to do overtime.”

“Ah~ fucking overtime. I completely understand.”

Vroooom! 

The heavy vibration of the engine rattled up through Lino’s seat.

“Should I step on it?” the driver asked.

“Pant… Could you?”

“It’ll cost you a bit more, but I can shave off up to fifteen minutes.”

“Then can you take me exactly to Unit 9-11 in District 12?”

“Of course I can. Why do you think motorcycle taxis are in higher demand than cars?”

Lino didn’t know. He would have needed to actually use a taxi to know that. Ahaha, he offered an awkward laugh instead of an answer.

“Cars have a hard time getting down the narrow alleys, but a bike can go anywhere.”

“I’ll pay you double… no, triple. Just please get me there as fast as possible.”

“You got it. Hold on tight, buddy. You might have tried to quit your overtime, but you don’t want to quit your life.”

Vroooooom—!

The motorcycle let out a deafening roar as it tore aggressively down the street. Terrified, Lino frantically wrapped his arms around the driver’s waist, finding a surprisingly stable anchor in the man’s thick belly fat. And just like that, Lino experienced the very first wild, high-speed chase of his life.

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