Quietly Hiding that I am a Man chapter 47- Fake Prophecy

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Turning my head slowly, I caught sight of Ber’s horrified expression.

A torrent of red blood, as massive as a dam overflowing during the rainy season, was rushing toward us.

By the time I realized it, my body had already been swept away.

The stench of blood clogged my throat, suffocating me.

Jerome grabbed me by the waist as I flailed in panic.

“Relax your body, Jeanne.”

Jerome seemed unnervingly calm—almost as if he was enjoying himself.

As the current quickened, I desperately looked around for Bermut.

In the meantime, Jerome snatched the dagger from my waist and plunged it into the wall.

Thanks to the knife anchoring me, I wasn’t carried away by the current, but Ber was nowhere in sight.

“Bermut! Where are you? Bermut!”

No matter how much I screamed his name, there was no reply.

My heart began to race in panic.

I struggled to free myself from Jerome’s grasp, but he didn’t budge.

“Let me go! Bermut is—”

The blood had risen to my chest, and the current started to slow down.

I knew it was already too late, but my mind refused to think rationally.

Jerome, who had been watching me silently, gave me a faint smile.

“Should I let you go?”

The ominous smile made me freeze. Still grinning, Jerome suddenly shoved my head into the pool of blood.

The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, making my throat convulse. Just as I was on the Berge of losing consciousness, he pulled me back up.

As I gasped for air, Jerome spoke coldly.

“Know your place, my dear.”

“Gasp… cough…”

“If I hadn’t been here, you’d already be dead. You couldn’t even save yourself, so who exactly do you think you can rescue? Do you think you could have saved anyone if I let you go? Do you really believe that?”

I felt the water level gradually receding.

As the blood that had reached my chest lowered to my ankles, Jerome finally let go of me.

My ears rang, and my throat stung.

Jerome made a sharp noise with his mouth, demanding my attention. I sniffled and looked at him.

“No, Jeanne. As you are now, you can’t save anyone. You’re so weak you can’t even manage on your own. Every day, someone else brushes your hair for you, someone else cooks your meals. All you have going for you is your pretty face. You can’t survive without someone’s help.”

“…”

“If you’ve got some brilliant plan I don’t know about, feel free to share. I’ll listen.”

His gentle tone clashed sharply with the words that cut like a finely honed blade.

I wanted to lash out, to ask how he could shove someone’s head into a pool of blood, but part of me knew Jerome wasn’t entirely wrong.

I felt foolish for letting my panic cloud my judgment.

“I just…”

I trailed off, sighing deeply.

My mind was a mess.

Jerome didn’t seem to be lecturing me—rather, he looked genuinely curious about my thoughts.

He stepped behind me and wrung out my blood-soaked hair.

As I let him, I opened my mouth again, feeling wronged.

“Is it wrong for the weak to even want to save someone?”

“No.”

Jerome answered flatly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Perhaps it was my own pessimism, reflected in Jerome, that had led him to such conclusions.

“So, should I just give up and do nothing?”

“If you value your life, yes.”

“That’s unfair.”

“Death is always unfair. But enduring such unfairness is what makes one an adult.”

To learn to accept death’s unfairness as part of growing up…

Coming from Jerome, the words carried a unique weight.

He’d spent years as a hero, protecting the empire and witnessing countless unjust deaths.

I grabbed Jerome’s wrist as he continued untangling my hair.

“So, does that mean you’ve grown up?”

A fleeting emotion crossed Jerome’s eyes.

Instead of answering, he simply smiled faintly and wrapped his arms around my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I grimaced as my body leaned forward under his weight.

“Who knows? Which answer would you like?”

“Why ask if you don’t plan on answering?”

Sighing, I slipped out of Jerome’s embrace.

My entire body was soaked in blood, and my hair and clothes were a mess, but I couldn’t afford to give up now.

With renewed determination, I turned to face Jerome.

“I promised to take Bermut to the Underworld. He’s not meant to die inside the belly of some heretic. His death belongs in the forest of the Underworld, as per our contract.”

“That’s a foolish promise. The Underworld isn’t your neighborhood boutique. Once a human enters, they never come back. Poor Jeanne, you’ve been deceived by that wicked bastard.”

“Even if I was deceived, a promise is a promise.”

Ber had once told me he hated humans, but his expression, full of resentment toward his former masters, only made him look lonely.

He seemed to miss the masters he would never meet again.

‘I won’t leave you behind.’

A faded memory passed through my mind.

In my past life, I’d waited endlessly for my father at the darkened entrance to our home.

I knew better than anyone how agonizing it was to wait for someone who wouldn’t return.

Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t abandon Ber. Once my resolve was set, I spoke again.

“I’m going further down to find Bermut. You can leave if you want, but I won’t ask for your help.”

I hastily tied my blood-soaked hair into a messy bun and strode forward.

Jerome quickly followed, chuckling to himself.

“You should’ve just asked for my help.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You’ll die soon enough if you keep going alone. Without me, you’d be in big trouble.”

“I’m prepared for that. Like you said, it’s dangerous. So, stop following me.”

Jerome, who had been walking beside me silently, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Leaving him behind, I continued forward, but just as I was gaining distance, I tripped over my robe and fell forward.

“One thing’s for sure…”

A thin stream of blood dripped from my nose.

As I wiped it away indifferently, a shadow loomed over me. Jerome, looking down at me with a tired expression, muttered softly.

“Our daughter Chloe is going to be just as stubborn as you are.”

✽ ✽ ✽

I kept glancing back at Jerome, who followed me closely.

He had been so relaxed earlier, but now he seemed strangely tense.

His sour mood was giving me an uneasy feeling.

‘If he’s going to act so annoyed, why did he come along in the first place?’

To be honest, I was surprised. Weren’t Jerome and Bermut sworn enemies?

As I kept stealing glances, our eyes met, and Jerome, as if waiting for this, spoke up.

“Hold my hand. You’re scared, right? It’s a date, after all.”

“…”

“Why aren’t you answering? Did you already get tired of me? You sick of me after just a few days? So, now you’re thinking of trying out another guy?”

“…”

“If you don’t grab my hand right now, I’ll brainwash you into doing it.”

Damn…

I stopped in my tracks and turned around.

Jerome glared at me with a menacing look.

I extended my hand reluctantly, and as soon as he grasped it, his mood lightened. He hummed a tune as we continued walking.

The further we descended, the narrower the passage became.

The pinkish walls started to show little villi-like protrusions.

Jerome, intrigued, prodded the writhing walls with his finger, laughing as the villi recoiled like a mimosa plant.

“It twitches when you poke it. Cute.”

“Be careful not to… touch anything dangerous.”

At the moment when I was trying to stop Jerome, who was recklessly poking around his surroundings, my foot suddenly slipped on some strange, slimy substance.

It was one of those unlucky moments, like they say, where even if you fall backward, you’d break your nose.

I slid uncontrollably down a slope that seemed almost perfectly smooth, ending up in a different space altogether.

“Ugh…”

The place Jerome and I fell into was a narrow, strange area with sticky mucus-like substances dripping down the walls.

If I had fallen alone, I might have been able to endure it, but being trapped in this cramped space with someone as bulky as Jerome made it hard to breathe.

I squirmed, my face pressed against his chest, before I quickly raised my head in panic.

“Jerome, are you okay?”

“…”

“Jerome?”

Jerome’s throat bobbed.

His mouth opened slightly, but instead of responding, he buried his face in my shoulder.

His earlobes, flushed red, caught my eye.

Feeling something odd against my thigh, I squinted. Unfortunately, my thigh was pressed right against Jerome’s… center.

‘I let my guard down.’

The space was so tight that when I inhaled, my chest would touch his. Even when I tried to move my leg back, it was no use.

My only option was to use my hand, and even that was challenging, as my eyes were sticky with the mucus, making it hard to see.

Jerome, who seemed halfway out of his mind, let out a long sigh.