Chapter 23: Awakening in Teuton Territory

In the Teuton military hospital, the blond youth lay still on his sickbed.

He slowly opened his eyes, his consciousness still hazy. However, the moment his eyelids fluttered open, an unbearable, inexpressible pain and tearing sensation surged through his entire body, jolting him awake.

A sharp gasp escaped him.

He gasped for air, slowly acclimating to the agony that wracked his body. He knew better than to strain himself; a distinct sensation of stitches permeated his wounds, and any forceful movement now would surely tear the sutures open.

Such a mishap would only intensify his suffering.

Gradually, a sense of calm settled over him, and his body began to adapt to the persistent throb of his injuries. Yet, his mind remained a tangled mess.

He drew several deep breaths, allowing his tumultuous emotions to subside, before slowly beginning to piece together how he had arrived at this place.

The crisp white duvet covering him, the sterile medical bed at his side, and the drip stand with its suspended bag all unequivocally signaled to Fran that he was in a hospital.

The black cross and Teuton eagle flag displayed prominently on the wall before him further confirmed his suspicion: he was undoubtedly within Teuton territory.

It appeared to be nightfall. Indeed, he recalled losing consciousness sometime during the evening hours.

His memory stirred…

Wait…

Yes, his memories!

It all rushed back to him. After he had become thoroughly intoxicated, Yuli had appeared, intending to escort him back to the mansion. They had walked side by side, only to be abruptly ambushed by gunmen.

An ambush…

His mind momentarily seized. ‘That can’t be right,’ he thought. ‘I certainly didn’t arrange any attack.’

‘Could Alina have orchestrated it? But…’

Simply assassinating Yuli would be utterly insignificant to Francis’s grand strategic objectives. Fran understood this implicitly, and his teacher, Alina, surely possessed even greater clarity on the matter.

Thus, the instant the gunmen emerged, he had instinctively lunged forward, shielding Yuli…

Though it was an act of gambling with his very life, Yuli absolutely could not die. He was acutely aware that she was an indispensable asset if he hoped to infiltrate the upper echelons of Teuton intelligence.

Should she perish, his mission would unravel, and his purpose would vanish.

‘It must… it must be this way, right?’

He murmured to himself, ‘Yes, this is precisely my motivation for saving Yuli. I… I definitely have no other intentions, absolutely…’

‘Absolutely none.’

‘It was a necessity for the mission.’

He forcefully banished those unsettling thoughts from his mind. He absolutely could not afford to be swayed by such distractions.

‘Heh, it’s truly remarkable,’ he mused, ‘that even in such a drunken stupor, I could still make the correct judgment.’

Fran offered a self-deprecating smile. After a brief period of reflection, he exhaled a long sigh of relief. Fortunately…

He had won his gamble.

He had not died. Despite enduring several gunshot wounds, his life had been spared.

Nevertheless, a persistent unease gnawed at him. He had been awake for quite some time, and had thoroughly processed his situation, yet an unsettling feeling lingered.

He couldn’t quite discern the origin of this disquiet. Was it the oppressive emptiness of the ward, devoid of anyone but himself? Or perhaps the deep shadows cast by the massive trees outside the window, which blocked the sunlight and imbued the room with an inexplicable chill? Could it even be the black cross adorning the wall, too ominous for comfort?

No… none of those were the cause. Fran wasn’t preoccupied with such trivialities. Yet, there was indeed something crucial he had forgotten.

‘What could it be…’

‘Oh, that’s right!’

He jolted awake with a sudden realization: Yuli…

‘That’s it! Is Yuli alright?’

While he had managed to protect Yuli during the attack, he couldn’t be entirely certain of her continued safety.

A cold sweat beaded on his brow, a chilling dread for Yuli, and for the fate of his mission.

“Yuli…”

As he murmured her name, a silver-haired figure abruptly pushed open the ward door. Footsteps echoed noisily as the girl stepped inside, then turned to address someone outside the door.

“I’ll be occupied for a while,” she instructed. “Unless it’s exceptionally urgent, do not disturb me. Understood?”

“Yes,” the voices from outside replied in unison.

Fran understood little of the Teuton dialogue, yet the familiar timbre of her voice confirmed it: Yuli had entered the room.

He quickly settled back, his eyes wide open, awaiting Yuli’s approach.

Yuli closed the door, then swiftly moved to Fran’s bedside. Her face appeared somewhat drawn, but otherwise, she seemed unharmed.

“Fran?”

Yuli leaned closer to the sickbed, and upon seeing Fran’s eyes open, she froze in stunned disbelief.

She clapped a hand over her mouth, unable to trust her own eyes. Fran, he was…

“You’re finally awake…”

A faint sob laced the girl’s voice, prompting Fran to offer an awkward smile.

Fran replied, “It’s truly wonderful that you’re safe, Yuli…”

He bowed his head in contemplation for a moment. It appeared he had, indeed, won his gamble.

Yuli nodded, then settled onto a chair beside his bed. She took his right hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and spoke.

“You were unconscious for several days,” she began, her voice trembling. “You truly… you scared me half to death.”

“This… this is several days later?” Fran questioned, his voice laced with disbelief. He found it staggering that he had been unconscious for such an extended period.

Yuli explained, “You suffered severe blood loss and were rushed directly to the emergency room. Fortunately, the bullet missed any vital organs, otherwise…”

Fran fell silent for a moment, his previously relaxed gambler’s mindset instantly evaporating. The realization that he had, in essence, walked through the very gates of hell sent a chilling shiver down his spine.

‘Phew… at least I’m still alive.’

He lifted his gaze to Yuli, a wistful expression on his face, and spoke.

“You… Yuli, it’s enough that you’re safe.”

Fran made a move as if to rise, startling Yuli, who quickly pressed him back down. Thus, he found himself pinned to the bed by the girl, momentarily unable to move.

Yuli lowered her head, resting it against Fran’s chest, and let out a soft sigh of relief. Then, she straightened, gently stroked Fran’s hair, and leaned close to his face, her voice a tender whisper of caution.

“You have stitched wounds, so don’t move carelessly,” she warned. “Be mindful not to rupture them and risk infection. Just lie still; I’ll take care of you.”

“Mmm…”

Fran nodded obediently. Yuli pulled a stool closer, settled beside him, and spoke with thoughtful concern.

“Fran, you must be hungry, aren’t you?” she asked gently. “Would you like me to feed you something?”

“Mm-hmm…”

Fran nodded, parted his lips, and accepted the spoon Yuli offered, swallowing the sweet, liquid nourishment.

Watching the young man on the sickbed consume his meal with such apparent contentment, Yuli couldn’t help but smile.

Inwardly, she let out a silent sigh of relief.

Even so, a heavy burden of stress continued to weigh upon her.

Yuli found herself unable to stop pondering certain questions—questions that revolved around Fran.

The harrowing attack, though now past, continued to unsettle Yuli. While the ambush hadn’t taken place at their chosen tavern, Lyon had already investigated the gunman’s identity: he was merely an ordinary youth whose family had suffered suppression at the hands of the Teuton army.

All indicators suggested that this particular attack was most likely an impromptu act, carried out by the assailant alone, fueled by a singular desire for revenge.

Yet, in truth, one could not entirely dismiss the possibility that this attack had been a meticulously planned conspiracy involving Fran, the gunman, and certain other organizations.

Furthermore, the target of the assault had, coincidentally, been herself. This, coupled with Lyon’s previous discovery of numerous suspicious details about Fran, and the fact that she had just been invited out on a date by him, raised uncomfortable questions.

Such an accumulation of events inevitably forced her suspicion to fall upon Fran.

Only…

Fran had saved her life…

If it had truly been a pre-arranged plot, why would he have risked his life to save her?

And yet…

Yuli gazed at Fran’s innocent, sickly face, and despite her lingering doubts, she resolved…

To get to the bottom of it.