I Pray That You Forget Me - Chapter 111
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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“Johann Renner has a very good wife.”
She’s just a well-trained puppet.
She must not have relatives.
I’ll guarantee two identities. She’s young and beautiful. Moreover, she’s utterly devoted to her. Rize Eineman is unknowingly playing the role of a smokescreen and puppet for that cunning bastard, serving him faithfully.
No wonder he still keeps around a burden that often gets sick and drains his resources.
“Which unit was it?”
“Are you planning to erase my record of discharge from that unit if I tell you?”
But today, the man who usually manipulates his puppet to deflect my suspicions began to take matters into his own hands.
“Military status? I have nothing to hide. Writing? Nothing I can provide.”
He shed the guise of a timid little citizen.
“But not doing so doesn’t make me untrustworthy; it’s because the questioner’s intent is untrustworthy.”
“Oh, really? What untrustworthy intent do you think I have?”
“It seems you’re trying to frame me as a draft dodger or something similar, aiming to make my wife into the unattainable maiden you desire.”
A laugh escaped me. This is what a real accusation sounds like. I wasn’t merely trying to steal a woman. There are far easier ways to do that, so why take such a troublesome path?
“It’s pitiful how much effort you’re putting into stealing a wife from a civilian.”
But to the officers at this table, who must have heard rumors about my past, it would sound plausible. Just a moment ago, they were gnashing their teeth at him without me saying a word, but now their mouths had shut tight.
“What I wanted to say ends here.”
From the start, his agenda was never about me; it was about the other soldiers. He willingly sat here, knowing full well he’d be torn apart by a pack of dogs.
Then he took a bite out of me. He exposed my past, leaving me unable to look away. So now, those who should be my allies couldn’t trust me but were willing to trust him. That would only make it harder for me to push my agenda within the command.
‘That cunning bastard must have done his homework on me.’
And he’s using it like this. Beneath his clear, transparent facade lies something as foul as sewage.
He knew the speech was aimed at himself from the start, yet that cunning bastard didn’t let a flicker of that clear expression fade for even a moment. Thanks to that, I mistakenly thought he might not understand, leading me to underestimate him.
He even made me second-guess my suspicions, forcing me to trace back through my thoughts from the beginning.
‘This bastard was pretending to be clueless while playing mind games all along.’
As soon as I pressed him about the unit, he flipped the topic back on me, deflecting the arrows aimed at him. I was caught off guard, but I wasn’t the only one losing the game. He ended up revealing his seasoned conman nature.
‘This will only strengthen my suspicions about your true identity.’
Thanks to this, while the command might have strayed from that person’s identity, I had only drawn closer.
“Now let’s hear what you have to say, Major.”
“Ghostwriting.”
I dug another trap, this time overtly. Since he was already familiar with it, the chances of him falling for it were slim. I wanted to see how he would respond, and this time he didn’t shy away; he walked right into it.
‘Those who deceive and slander will lose their tongues. Those who covet another’s wife will not escape punishment. Those who defile another’s body will find their own body defiled.’
As soon as I received the scrawled writing, I couldn’t help but scoff. Who was it that deceived another’s wife and defiled her flesh?
“Is this your confession?”
Or perhaps it’s your admission of guilt.
Asking about customs verbally is the easiest and a good way to catch someone off guard. However, customs can vary slightly from region to region, and it’s easy to escape with an excuse of misunderstanding.
Even when it came to the Christmas customs that had prompted my suspicions about him, I was dismissed with the claim that he had no interest in Christmas and was merely confused.
But what about getting the spelling wrong on a term that has been taught for a lifetime in the designated school textbooks? There can’t be regional differences in that. It’s not something one could misunderstand. Moreover, since it’s documented in writing, no one could dismiss it.
I delved into the handwriting of the letter after he left. Spelling. Accuracy. Punctuation. There were no glaring issues. What about the numbers? The curves of the 2 and 7 that I had added as traps seemed to mock me, ‘Did you really think I wouldn’t notice this?’
“Damn it.”
I expected that he would have thoroughly mastered the craft, considering he had disguised himself as a writing teacher. Yet, I was still shocked at how perfectly he executed the nuanced spellings, idioms, and grammar that could easily confuse anyone. There was nothing to catch him on.
I had hoped he wouldn’t be able to walk back out of the trap, but he gracefully slipped away, just as he had entered. Even though I had anticipated this, the feeling of defeat was bitter.
‘Cunning snake.’
I crumpled the letter and stood up. There was no longer any reason for me to remain. As I stepped outside to light a cigarette, I caught sight of a figure huddled at the entrance of the farmhouse. I glared at the sight of the cunning snake coiling around its prey, feeling my appetite wane.
