Bailonz Street 13

Chapter 182. Meeting Again (4)

The next morning, while I woke up sharp at seven, Liam was still lost in dreamland.

Even as I carefully extracted my arm—which I’d lent like a body pillow to his embrace—and firmly drew the blackout curtains lest the streaming sunlight wake him, Liam didn’t open his eyes. He seemed not to have heard me getting up either.

Well, after facing the river wind until nearly midnight, how could his body be fine?

I hesitated for a moment, holding the curtain. Should I get up and go about my business? But I remembered the commotion Liam had caused when I wasn’t by his side. With no choice, I returned to his side and offered my arm back. Half-asleep, Liam hugged my arm.

Taking this opportunity to thoroughly observe Liam, I lay on my side, propped up my chin, and looked down at Liam Moore.

He had an angelic face. Though he sometimes wore rather fierce expressions when I didn’t know him, Liam’s overall impression was very gentle. If anything, my current face looked sterner. People would probably ask “Are you angry?” if they saw me.

When I poked his sleeping cheek, he groaned and frowned. I felt just like a child playing a mischievous prank. Stifling my laughter, I patted his chest as if soothing a seven-year-old.

“Sleep, sleep.”

And wearing a soft sweater as pajamas! Where had the twenty-nine-year-old Liam Moore gone, the one who insisted on pressed pajamas till his dying day? Hadn’t he changed too much while I was away? Somehow, I kept finding more things to tease him about from his past.

Liam, who had been nuzzling his face against my arm, weakly lifted his eyelids. His sleepy gray eyes turned toward me. Seeing my sly smile, Liam whined.

“Why are you such an early bird…”

“You’re the one who oversleeps, Liam Moore.”

“I’m just a perfectly normal modern person.”

“…Modern?”

More like Victorian era. You should say 19th century person—how dare you try to shorten it by a century so casually.

Liam slowly rubbed his eyes. He massaged between his brows and pressed his palms against his eyelids. Looking thoroughly wronged, he muttered.

“…Shouldn’t you count my physical age?”

“Let’s keep work and personal life separate.”

“I’m your husband!”@@novelbin@@

“Even husbands get no exceptions, Mr. Moore.”

The comedy routine ended. We quietly exchanged glances. Liam broke into giggles first. I followed suit. Now speaking with clearer pronunciation, Liam muttered. 𝐫𝖆NŏВĘṧ

“Thanks to you, I’m wide awake.”

“Herschel should have seen this.”

“Don’t even mention it. He’d be smirking from seven yards away!”

“Herschel, I finally managed to chase away Liam Moore’s morning sleep after a century! …Wait, then what time did you usually wake up when I wasn’t around?”

Liam subtly avoided my gaze. Seeing him desperately avoid eye contact like a puppy who’d done something wrong, I widened my eyes. He reluctantly mumbled.

“…Eleven o’clock.”

“Wow.”

Starting the day at eleven o’clock? Others would be sick with envy hearing that. Especially since he wouldn’t go hungry doing so.

However he interpreted my expression, Liam protested.

“Eleven is early for me.”

“At least you won’t lack sleep.”

I responded with difficulty. Liam laughed as if I was hopeless and slipped his feet into slippers. The air was very warm, probably from the boiler running overnight.

He let out a long yawn and tried to tame his messy hair. Since I was partly responsible for waking him, I got up and started brushing his stubborn hair while looking at him sympathetically. Bending down to my height, Liam closed his eyes and said.

“We need to negotiate wake-up times.”

“…What time do you want to sleep until?”

“All day.”

“Then you’ll die.”

You can’t sleep without eating, can you? When I pointed this out, he reluctantly mumbled.

“What time do you want to wake up…”

“I… used to wake up by eight even during vacations.”

“…Too early. Eleven.”

“That’s lunchtime, not morning. Nine.”

“No way. Ten.”

“…Nine thirty.”

Finally, Liam agreed. Instead, we decided to go to bed earlier in the evening.

How could someone so sleepy survive in this busy world? I was dumbfounded, but suddenly understanding why Liam had developed such a leisurely daily routine, I couldn’t nag anymore.

Perhaps he chose sleep to kill time. After all, he’d endured a century without aging. He must have grown tired of opening his eyes.

“Darling.”

Liam heavily rested his face on my shoulder. The weight was so substantial that I almost fell backward with a “Eek!” Catching my body, Liam lifted me onto his feet and waddled out of the room.

“We’re going to fall!”

“We won’t. It’s fine.”

In that precarious position, Liam opened the refrigerator and said.

“After breakfast, there’s somewhere I want to take you.”

* * *

Is this right? I wondered from the passenger seat. Is this really right?

Why is the place we need to visit somewhere I know?

Crossing the bridge to the City of London (London’s financial district), the city’s only self-governing borough, I had my suspicions, but I couldn’t believe it would really be this.

My guess became reality. When Liam’s car stopped in front of a familiar building—yes, the ‘company’—I stared at him blankly.

“What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“…Didn’t you say you couldn’t use magic?”

“Oh, I can’t. But at my age? I can live perfectly well without relying on magic. Who do you think helps unsociable magicians blend into modern society?”

“…Even disguising it as a company,”

“My idea. Since those old-fashioned geezers from Greenwich are all dead now, I can do as I please, can’t I?”

His face was so shameless as he answered, I half expected the former chairman to burst out of his coffin.

Right, I’d forgotten. Memories beautify people. I was reminded again why Liam Moore’s middle name was ‘bastard’ Moore. This shameless tone, this impudent expression!

“When magicians suddenly need to disappear, they can use company business trips as an excuse.”

“…So you’ve been running it like this since the early 1900s.”

“Mm. Sometimes I act as the chairman’s proxy, changing identities a few times. Tried to avoid being photographed. Sometimes put other proxies forward, too. Your husband’s quite clever with these things, you know. You can be proud.”

I nodded vaguely with a slightly nauseated expression.

I’m not sure about being proud, but I was very surprised at how Liam’s working style had become more sophisticated over the century. After all, the last Liam Moore I saw was London’s thug who kicked down unlocked doors while searching for useless ‘fear bullets.’

We got out of the car and entered the ‘company’ building where people occasionally passed by.

I read the company name hung large in the lobby. ‘M&G’. I wasn’t sure what letters it stood for. G. What could G be? Though no specific industry was listed, since the City was London’s financial center, it was probably finance or investment related. Perhaps a bank?

Passing people glanced at us. More precisely, they looked at the person beside me. I slightly nudged Liam’s side with my elbow and whispered to him.

“Liam, people keep looking at you.”

Liam winked at me and replied.

“I’m quite high up in rank.”

“…”

Then he pressed the elevator button, and good heavens. He casually pressed the top floor.

By this point, I was starting to get very worried.

“W-why are we going to the CEO’s office?”

“Haha.”

“No way, Liam? Why are you just laughing?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“Tell me! Since when does an Englishman say things like ‘seeing is believing’?”

Just then, the door went ‘ding’ and opened. Caught in mid-argument, I froze.

An office filled with a neutral beige interior spread before us. A pure white coat hung on the coat rack.

Suddenly, I had a bad feeling.

…I knew someone with such a peculiar taste.