Bailonz Street 13-Chapter 198: Side Story
Chapter 198. The Mark (3)
Soon the police and paramedics arrived. After examining collapsed Mr. Thomas, they said they’d take him to the hospital immediately. I caught fragments of Liam telling them about “dry drowning” and “lungs.” And then about the emergency exit I’d mentioned.
A young officer who rushed to check the emergency exit let out an “Ughk!” that echoed through the corridor.
“Miss, are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
A middle-aged paramedic asked me. Though his eyes showed concern, unfortunately Liam and I had too much left to do.
“I’m fine. Just had a moment of panic when I was startled.”
“Oh dear. Let me know if you need a paper bag.”
“…I’m better now. Really.”
Liam handed his business card to the paramedic, repeatedly asking to be notified as soon as Mr. Thomas regained consciousness. He seemed to feel responsible for this incident.
The building erupted in chaos as yellow police tape went up. People from neighboring buildings and the area gathered, whispering as they watched Mr. Thomas being carried out and someone else being moved in a body bag.
We left the building completely, walking with dazed expressions.
Our minds already knew where to go next. First priority was checking if Ian, the young caretaker Liam had mentioned, was safe. If Mr. Thomas had been attacked, we couldn’t be sure Ian was alright either.
Though Liam looked quite a mess with his trouser cuffs starting to freeze, we had no choice. I wrapped my coat tightly around him and led him to a more crowded area.
Ian apparently lived in a relatively quiet area away from Whitechapel. I’d heard he lived near Chelsea, and looking at the map, it would take quite a while to get there. Given our condition, Liam decided to risk taking a car.
“I’m fine taking public transport.”
“I’m not fine with it, wife. You really were in a panic state just now.”
Wife. I grimaced and giggled at the awkward term of endearment. Though I hadn’t felt like I could laugh at all until just now, I finally felt my facial muscles relaxing.
Fortunately, we found a taxi in service. Though the driver seemed somewhat bewildered seeing Liam get in with soaked trouser cuffs with my help, he didn’t pry into what had happened.
Even while getting in and fastening my seatbelt, I checked once more for any vehicles coming toward us at 70km/h from the distance. Thankfully, there was no mysterious truck ramming our taxi this time. I briefly thought I might develop taxi-phobia for a while. Come to think of it, what happened to that poor taxi from before? Scrapped, probably.
I briefly thought that if we wanted to live peacefully with Liam in London, we’d need to root out this cult somehow. If we couldn’t resolve this now, the next few decades would be difficult.
However Liam interpreted my thoughtful expression, he watched me carefully before slowly reaching out his hand. I stared at it blankly before taking his large hand in mine with a bright smile.
* * *
After about forty minutes of driving, we arrived at a two-story Victorian house in Chelsea.
I’m not sure if he heard the car stop outside, but I saw the curtains on the second floor flutter briefly. Someone was watching us through the gap before quickly closing them. Somehow this meeting already felt worrying.
Liam cleared his throat and knocked on the door.
“…Ian.”
His voice was very gentle and mild. More precisely… how should I put it, like soothing a child.
“It’s me.”
Who was he using this tone with? I’d heard Ian was twenty-six, and at that age, honestly, he should know what’s what and be able to take care of himself.
Moreover, to quote what Liam’s brother Theo once told me, Liam Moore treats people like stones. Yet here was this guy using such a gentle, soothing voice with someone, and a grown adult at that?
“…What’s this about?”
I muttered. Something seemed off no matter how I looked at it.
Just then, a brusque voice came from inside the door.
“…How do I know it’s really you?”
The tone was unmistakably wary of us.
“Oh, Ian. Your uncle’s never lied to you, has he?”
“You probably have. I just didn’t notice. And ‘uncle’? Isn’t that a bit shameless?”
“…Call me uncle. I’ve been hearing I’m getting old a lot lately, it hurts my feelings.”
I knew I’d seen this somewhere – ah yes, he was imitating Herschel.
To be honest, Liam wasn’t particularly sociable. While he leaned more social than antisocial if you had to choose, people considered him unsociable because he disliked meeting new people and forming new relationships.
Within those limited relationships, Liam was imitating the ‘good guardian’ figure he’d encountered most – sometimes mischievous, sometimes affectionate, and sometimes strict…
I tried briefly to gauge the identity of this young man Liam was asking to call him uncle.
“Who’s that person with you?”
“I told you before. Uncle’s wife.”
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“Ah. The woman who left uncle.”
…The woman who left?
While technically true, this young man’s expression was quite raw?
Noticing my expression turn peculiar, Liam cried out as if about to faint.
“I didn’t put it like that!”
Lucky it was still daylight. If it had been night, the neighbors would surely have complained. The indifferent voice continued from inside.
“It’s the same thing that uncle was abandoned. You got back together? Why? There must be plenty of people better than uncle.”
Liam dramatically sniffled and rested his forehead against the gate. Saying things like how could you say that, I’m still your uncle, and so on.
Oh my. How can someone be more childish than their nephew? Before Liam could sniffle more, I tucked him under my arm and started soothing him.
“There, there, Liam. How old are you to be sniffling like this? You shouldn’t do that.”
“…When you say it like that, I’m starting to feel a bit embarrassed.”
“That’s the point. Anyway, young man who’s supposedly Liam’s nephew. Please open the door. Your uncle’s pants are completely soaked and ruined. We got caught up in some strange business.”
Click, the door opened.
And as soon as it did, I couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise.
“…Owen?”
“Who’s that supposed to be?”
Slightly disheveled red bob cut reaching down to his ears, gold-rimmed glasses perched carelessly on his nose. The indoor robe that clearly dragged on the floor was rolled up at the arms, and the shirt worn underneath was wrinkled all over.
But what made me pause most were those eyes. Vibrant golden eyes. Like Owen’s youth perfectly recreated. No, it was Owen. Exactly as I remembered him. Though likely a descendant of the Cassfire family… Lawrence’s line… but could they really look this similar?
While I stood dumbfounded, the young man who had firmly secured the door turned to look at us.
“I’m Ian. Not really his nephew. He’s my guardian… and self-proclaimed godfather.”
“You can use my surname casually outside.”
“…So I go by Ian Osmond, roughly speaking.”
I finally broke free from my shock.
My heart sort of understood, but my mind kept denying it. Wait, Owen and Liam and I are connected as family? And if he’s a godson, does that make me sort of… like, his mother figure?
The sudden prospect of parenthood made my head spin. Afraid I might face an even bigger shock if I denied it three times, I first followed Liam’s lead with a gentle smile.
“…Right. Oh, …Ian. I’m, um. Jane.”
Ian stared at me sharply for a moment before raising one corner of his mouth and saying:
“Seems like that name belongs to someone else.”
“…Why do you think that?”
“No, your expression just looks exactly like someone using a stolen name.”
This one’s quite perceptive. Without saying more, I turned my gaze to Liam who was taking off his coat. Noticing my look, Liam gave me a smile full of schemes.
Regardless of his godfather’s situation, Ian Osmond snickered at his godfather’s soaked pants.
“Ah, must be frustrating not being able to use magic anymore, huh?”
“Indeed. Got any clothes? Your uncle needs to change.”
“I’ll give you pajama pants. Uncle.”
A man perfectly dressed in a suit on top with cozy cotton pajama pants below! What kind of mismatch was this?
Liam wore a devastated expression.
