After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 77
One, two, three…
“Why do you keep doing this when it’s useless?”
Dehart stared at Claude, who opened the door with a sigh. It took about twenty seconds for Claude to arrive after Dehart squeezed a small spark out of sheer force. The walls weren’t sturdy, and the sound echoed far. It seemed like it wasn’t a carefully constructed base.
And I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, at least to the second floor.
Not knowing what Dehart was thinking, Claude picked up the ruined drawer with a troubled look on his face.
“I can tell you’re quite capable without you bragging about it, nephew. Unless you want to end up as a lifeless corpse with all your strength drained, you better calm down.”
His tone sounded like he was dealing with a stubborn child. Dehart’s insides bubbled with anger at Claude’s carefree and indifferent demeanor. It was degrading and infuriating to be held helplessly in the presence of one of his parents’ enemies, but he bit back his anger and endured.
Right now, obtaining information is more important.
He hadn’t always been able to see this opportunity so calmly. Initially, Dehart had flown into a fit of rage when he realized who his captor was. There was a reason he was managing to keep his composure.
Claude casually mentioning a “lady”.
[I can see why the young lady was frightened.]
Claude clearly stated that he had chased after a guest when Dehart was trapped in the nightmares, and continued by saying that the guest was a young lady. Dehart himself had followed the brunette Sebelia to this place, so…
If my guess is correct, this is where she intended to go.
This was most likely brunette Sebelia’s destination on the Sixth Road. Although he never dreamed he would meet his damned youngest uncle, murderer of their kin, here.
I wonder if she came here to meet Claude. If so, how long have they known each other and did she have any part in my parents’ case…
Dehart realized his imagination was spiraling out of control and clenched his jaw tightly to regain control. He needed to rein in his wandering thoughts.
S**t.
He closed his eyes and made an effort to steady his breathing. Like a beast cornered at the edge of a cliff, he felt restless and desperate. Despite knowing in his head that he needed to stay calm, his heart refused to listen.
I don’t even know if she’s the real Sebelia in the first place. If Eli was right, she’s a fake created to rattle me.
The question was what was this fake doing dragging him here?
Dehart gritted his teeth.Whether it was about her identity, purpose, or anything else, he needed to meet her to find out. Yet here he was, held captive by Claude.
“Damn it…”
An involuntary curse escaped his lips. Claude, who was tidying up the room, chuckled. Dehart’s eyes immediately turned fierce.
“You’re in good spirits, but dinner is still a long way off, so don’t exert yourself too much. Crying because you’re hungry won’t help either.”
“…”
“If you want to save energy by keeping your mouth shut, you’re free to do so.”
Claude shrugged, closed the door, and left. Left alone, Dehart buried his head in the pillow, his frustration evident in his clenched teeth.
“S**t.”
Everything was uncertain and chaotic. Before he could get himself out of one mess, a new one overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes to regain control, reaching out as if the remnants of a nightmare awaited him.
In the darkness behind his eyelids, Sebelia appeared. At first, it was the happy Sebelia he had hoped to see, but then her appearance gradually changed.
Her serene face lying in a coffin, the startled expression in the square as she ran away, and the moment she jumped from the inn…
“Ugh!”
At that moment, his stomach churned and his body shook. Dehart thought it was just a simple headache, the familiar pain that always tormented him. But it wasn’t.
Soon, a tingling, burning pain began in his limbs. In the face of this unfamiliar agony, Dehart clenched his teeth.
What the hell.
“Ungh…!”
A paroxysm of pain seized his entire body. His golden eyes turned a pale white as white flames rose into the air only to vanish without a trace.
“Dehart!”
Claude, who had just returned with the evening meal, rushed to him.
* * *
Claude opened the door to the basement lab without knocking—something he hadn’t done in years.
“Watts.”
At the firm call, Watts set aside a vial and turned around. He had been conducting several experiments with the blood he had extracted from Sebelia, eliminating items from the list of suspected diseases she might have. To be precise, it was a screening process to rule out conditions that did not match her symptoms.
“What’s going on? You didn’t knock.”
Removing his protective goggles, Watts examined Claude from head to toe. Claude’s chest was heaving as if he had rushed down here in a single breath.
The unshakeable Claude seemed visibly distressed. This wasn’t a sight Watts encountered often. It made Watts realize that the situation might be more serious than he initially thought.
“Has Miss Bella’s condition suddenly worsened?”
Claude lowered his head, but speaking didn’t come easy for him. He seemed to struggle with how to phrase things, repeatedly opening and closing his lips as if wrestling with words too difficult to extract. But Watts was a man who could endure and wait patiently.
Watts silently waited for Claude to calm his own confusion, and finally, he got what he wanted.
“Something’s off with Dehart.”
It wasn’t exactly the exciting revelation Watts had hoped for.
With a puzzled tone, Watts tilted his head and said, “…Everyone in the empire knows that there’s something off with him.”
Claude shook his head, realizing that his phrasing could easily be misinterpreted.
“No, not that. I mean, it’s not just a simple case of exhaustion. I think I’ve missed something.”
Exhaustion and malnutrition from accumulated fatigue, lack of sleep, and overexertion—that was Dehart’s diagnosis. But Claude looked like he’d just discovered something more serious.
“Could you take a look, Watts?”
There was an uncommon urgency in his golden eyes. This was going to be a pain.
Watts sighed.
