The way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother - Chapter 3

Updating 2-4 times a week. 

Chapter 2.3: I Hate My Second Life

Four years later….

Present Day

Water dripped through the cracks of the dungeon walls, giving off the scent of mildew. The cold air touched my skin as I went down the stairs, deeper into the castle, and arrived at an iron gate, where one man guarded the door.

“Will you let me pass?” I said.

“No, Lord Agriche said I shall not let anyone enter,” he said.

“Really? Even for me?” I smiled.

The guardsman flinched, even though he had anticipated my response. I pretended to hesitate, tilting my head to show my innocence, and gazed at him deeply with half-closed eyes.

I had been a constant guest to my father’s dinners since my debut at twelve years old. To say I became a rising star of the Agriche family was an understatement. I was now one of my father’s favourite children and a promising candidate to lead the next generation of my family.

Of course, I was not proud of my accomplishments. I still did not have the heart to be a true villain, but it was no accident as to how I made it this far. If I could tell the truth to anybody, the only reason I tried so hard in my studies was to earn my father’s respect. I had learned that until he lost power within the family, I would need his approval to survive in this rotten world.

“Miss,” the guardsman hesitated. Just a little more.

Should I continue to act coy with him or pull rank? My eyes stayed locked on his face while I considered my options. I needed the keys to the prisoner’s cell as well.

As if a flower had blossomed, the guardsman’s face began to slowly turn red.

Hmmm, what is this? I thought. I was sixteen years old and not even an adult yet. Was this man a paedophile?

I suppose it couldn’t be helped for trash to be attracted to me. Even if I was still in my late teens, I had been born as a beauty. Perhaps he was not used to seeing me or anything else that was beautiful in this trashy dungeon.

Well, it all worked out for me in the end.

I took the keys from the guardsman’s hand while he tried to hide his embarrassment.

“I want to have fun with the prisoner. Only for a moment,” I whispered alluringly and gave a short laugh. “No need to tell my father.”

He gave in and opened the door in a flash. As I passed by him, he begged me to enter the prisoner’s cell and exit quickly before we were found out.

The guardsman was a weak man. I did not expect him to last long in this house.

The chill in the air intensified as I walked through a dimly lit corridor. The stench grew worse; a putrid lingering smell created from the past atrocities committed here. For generations, this was the place where we tortured or killed hostages.

My face hardened when I saw a figure shackled behind a barbed, iron gate. I opened the door with a key.

Creeeeaaak. The rusted door opened sharply.

I entered the prisoner’s space. He was on his knees, his wrists and ankles chained to a heavy stone ball. It seemed like an uncomfortable position by the way his head drooped over his chest. His ethereal, silver hair was tinted blue under the dim torchlight. The golden eyes that I remembered from our last encounter were closed shut. He seemed to have lost consciousness.

I stood by the door. “Excuse me,” I said softly.

The Heroine’s Older Brother.

“Cassis Pedelian.”

The young man did not move even when I called out to him. I debated quietly before stepping in further into his cell.

His condition had worsened since I had last seen him. His shackles dug into the skin around his ankles and arms, leaving fresh marks.

His white scars, bleeding wounds, and tattered clothes revealed that he had been whipped without mercy since he had entered the castle.

Still, I did not see white bone peek out or chunks of flesh missing from his body. His limbs were still attached and none of his wounds were turning green from infection. Our head interrogator must have held back from using his favourite whip; the one that was often dipped in poisonous lacquer and spiked at the tip. Father must have told his men that no one was allowed to kill the prisoner yet.

Cassis was being treated as royalty for a prisoner in this house. I was thankful. It would have been harder to help the young man if he had become a cripple or fatally wounded. He had to stay alive for me. I had to live and my fate was tied to his.

I took a capsule pill I had hidden in my sleeve and grabbed his hair back. His head tilted back at an angle, stretching the Adam’s apple on his neck.

Well, well.

Cassis was a handsome youth. The scars on his face only seemed to exuberate his masculinity. I had an impulse to touch him further and aggravate him.

When we had first met, his glare had chilled me. Now, while his eyes were closed, the young man seemed to be gentle and complacent. His smooth skin reminded me that we were the same age, perhaps a tad older. According to the novel, he was seventeen years old when he had been captured.

A shame, I thought.

 In other circumstances, I would have taken my time to admire his face but I had to act quickly. It was unfortunate, but Cassis matched Charlotte’s taste perfectly.

Charlotte was the one who had begged our father to play with Cassis earlier. Her sadistic pleasures and hot temper made her an ideal villain. As a child three years younger than me, her favorite hobby was playing with the “toys” my father occasionally brought home.

With one hand still gripping his chin, I pulled his bloody lips apart gently with a finger. He flinched at my touch and frowned, but otherwise remained still. I paused, wondering if he would finally wake.

Well, his unconscious state wasn’t unexpected. Most prisoners here hardly fared better.

Pensively, I inserted a pill into his mouth. If he had been awake, he probably would not have accepted my help so easily.

“Ugh,” he groaned.

Was he finally waking up this time? His eyelids trembled before I finally saw those golden eyes again. His gaze was unfocused as he blinked slowly, trying to improve his vision.

Too bad. I had hoped he would stay unconscious.

We made eye contact.

“Ah, good morning,” I smiled.

He didn’t respond. Soon, a light of recognition formed in his eyes and he realized that something was lodged in his throat.

“Wh….at…..the…” He struggled to speak as if his motor skills were still impaired.

I responded to his distress by touching  his mouth again with my finger. It was a reflex.

His eyes seemed to pop out of his sockets at my touch. He moved his head viciously to throw me off.

Do I seem like the pervert now? I thought, and felt inclined to laugh.

My oh my, this prisoner was quite lively. Although I had not expected him to have this much energy left, I did not feel threatened. His bounds restricted his movements and he still sat pathetically on the floor.

He began to gag and cough, trying to throw up the pill I had given him.

“Don’t spit,” I said. “I gave you an antidote.”

“Uggh.”

“Please listen. I would have used an easier method if I meant to kill you.”

He continued to struggle and gargle his throat to try to expel the pill from his body. It was understandable. He had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a psychotic family and almost beaten to death. Now, was one of the mistresses of the house trying to save him? Did that make sense?

Regardless of how he felt, I still needed him to take the medicine. The pill had to digest completely in his stomach. He could complain or ask questions after I had negated any possible slow-acting poison his assailant may have given him.

“Sorry in advance,” I said casually. It couldn’t be helped when he was resisting like this.

I thrusted my palm straight up against his chin to clamp his jaws shut and pressed my fingers around his neck with my other hand. Cassis involuntarily swallowed.  I could still feel the pill lodged in his throat. His eyes rolled back as if he were going to faint again.

“Wh-what’re you…!” he gasped.

“Sorry, oppa. Try to swallow one more time,” I said demurely.

I removed my hand from his throat and punched him in the stomach. I could almost hear the pill drop into his gut now. Cassis gave a soft moan before fainting again.

Did I hit too hard?

Although I was not particularly strong, I had learned basic fighting skills like any of my other siblings. I had a decent chance of overpowering any boy or girl my age if I utilized my environment. Moreover, Cassis was in a weakened state and his arms and legs were bound.

I needed him to trust me to get him out of here safely. Should I have chosen a better method?

It’s too late now, I decided. I left the dungeon, leaving Cassis unconscious on the floor and in a cold sweat.

Translator’s Note: 철컹철컹은 사람 – chul-kyeong, chul-kyeong sa-ram.  Literally, when you arrest someone with handcuffs, it makes that clicking chul-keyong, chul-kyeong sound! Figuratively, it means someone who deserves to go to jail, like a paedophile, pervert, criminal, murderer, etc. (You’ll regret it if you use Google Image). – LN

Proofread by InquisitiveKat