Tamed Monster - Chapter 89

You heard all that, right? That’s what her husband said.

Sylvia broke into a cold sweat and stayed silent. She was so shaken, she couldn’t bring herself to turn around. Since when had he known? That she’d woken up and had been listening in on the whole conversation?

“Wife, don’t pretend you didn’t.”

He stretched out his words as he called her, and Sylvia found herself reacting involuntarily—a slight twitch of her shoulder, then she went still. He gave a pointed little laugh, making it obvious he’d noticed.

“Come here. If you don’t, I’ll come to you.”

“……”

“If I come over, you might not be in one piece by the end of it. It’d be better for you to come to me on your own. I’m pretty wound up right now, and I might not be able to control myself.”

He always threatened Sylvia like this. If she didn’t do as he said, he’d just force himself on her. The humiliating part was that these cheap threats always worked on her. The voice he used was so serious, and she’d learned the hard way what happened if she refused.

Slowly, Sylvia dragged herself up from the damp floor.

Then, little by little, she turned around. Her husband was nearby. The monster that had been a crow just moments ago had now shifted back to the severed arm. She didn’t understand a word that thing had said, but from the way her husband talked about it, she’d figured out it was some kind of friend to him.

“…How long have you known?”

She asked how long had he known she’d woken up? She was stalling for time—desperately trying to avoid the real conversation. She didn’t want to ask about what he’d said, about being a monster and her being just a human. So she blurted out the pointless question anyway.

“I knew as soon as you woke up.”

“…And you still… talked to that monster in front of me?”

“Yeah. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

The hunt was already over. Kuinan had defeated Hector and chopped off his arm. It had turned into a real fight, not just some staged scuffle, but in the end, he’d completed the mission the Emperor had given him.

If he hadn’t done all this, Sylvia would have ended up being a perfect witness.

But after learning that her husband was not human but a monster, and that the monster he’d hunted was still alive and following them of its own will—Sylvia no longer wanted any part of that role.

She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

The monster sounded a little hurt. Sylvia kept silent. He’d always blamed his twisted body and mind on a monster’s curse, but now he was confessing outright that he was the monster. Hadn’t he just said he was a three-hundred-year-old mad beast?

“Are you… a monster?”

She finally spat out the question that had been stuck in her throat.

Her fake husband answered with a simple, “Yes.”

“I killed your real husband. He was strong, a decent guy, wasn’t he? We actually got along at the end.”

The way he said ‘we got along at the end’ meant he’d been there for the man’s final moments. Sylvia was overwhelmed with disgust. She’d been having a fake relationship—with her husband’s murderer. She’d even slept with him, over and over, so intensely her body had changed from it.

She clamped a hand over her mouth and shook, feeling like she was about to vomit.

Seeing her reaction, the monster let out a long sigh, clearly displeased.

“You hate me. …I figured as much.”

He sounded dejected, as if this were just some petty marital spat, not a life-shattering revelation. Sylvia found that bizarre. She wanted to hurl a huge rock at his head, but he just seemed sad.

[You bastard.]

[F*****g perverted creep.]

[Goddamn son of a b***h.]

She couldn’t understand what the monster was saying, but from her husband’s responses, she could guess that he got cursed out a lot. The way the sounds came out—sometimes hissing, sometimes like a cat’s growl from deep in the throat—definitely sounded like swearing.

Human curses are spat out in the same way, sharp and ugly. Maybe some of those were “son of a b***h” or “pervert” or even worse.