Chapter 63: At Any Cost

"I'm sorry?" Vilak felt that Nord had become a stranger, with every bit of him feeling like a completely different person. His tone involuntarily turned icy. "What use is it to say sorry to me? Can Dempsey come back to life? Can we ever go back to the way things were?"

"No, we can't." Vilak rarely showed fatigue in front of others.

Ordinarily, he could have habitually deceived Nord and defended himself, but he felt a profound disgust for that kind of disguise. To Vilak, Nord was currently the only place where he could retain his true self. He didn't know whether he would still be himself if he lied even to Nord.

Although he was well aware that Nord was immensely disappointed in him, he still felt a sense of relief, as if the burden he carried had lightened somewhat.

Yet, he didn't know whether making this choice was equivalent to transferring a portion of his own pain onto Nord, or if it was just a more pitiable, sympathetic form of selfishness.

"Tell me what on earth happened," Nord asked with a trembling voice.

Vilak simplified the entire sequence of events and told Nord everything, leaving nothing out.

After listening to Vilak's account, Nord fell silent. This exceeded the scope of what he could comprehend, and he found it difficult to discern whether every choice Vilak had made was right or wrong.

"All I want to do now is get back at Fletcher, and then take a large sum of money to get you out of here." Vilak remembered the story of the three little lambs he had once told Daniel. At that time, he had felt a powerful urge—no matter how perilous the road ahead, no matter what might happen, he would, he definitely, definitely, definitely would reach that longed-for world, and then turn back to pull in Nord, who had always trusted him.

"Vilak," Nord said, his eyes devoid of focus, "do you think... it's worth it?"

"I have no way out anymore," Vilak said.

"If you hadn't asked the members of the Equality Society to kill Dempsey, wouldn't he have helped Fletcher get rid of us sooner or later anyway?"

"I know Fletcher's character very well. Even if Dempsey helped him, he wouldn't have honored his promise in the end. He would have killed everyone who knew about this secret so that it would remain buried forever and never threaten the Thomas family."

Nord got off the bed, walked past Vilak to the sealed window, and peered greedily outside through the tiny gap. "Did you send someone to look for me over a week ago?"

"That's right. After Dempsey betrayed us, I couldn't be sure whether you, having refused to compromise, would be eliminated, so I kept trying to find out your situation. When I finally learned of your whereabouts some time ago, I started planning a way to see you. I just didn't expect it to drag on until now..." Vilak walked over to Nord's side.

"What should I do now?" Nord turned his head, his expression calm.

Vilak understood that calm. It was a stillness born from the churning of countless emotions—not the clearing of the weather after a storm, but a dead silence. "I can't rescue you out of here just yet. If you leave now, the Thomas family will trace it back to me 100 percent. So Nord, you'll have to hold on a bit longer. Once I finish the deal with the Pyramont Company, I'll bring people to rescue you. We can go to Old South District in Dunman and start a new life."

"I'll wait for you, Vilak." Nord sat down, staring unblinkingly at the tightly closed door. "But I won't go anywhere else with you. When you finish doing what you want to do, I'll go back to Zword and continue living my life."

"Why?" Vilak found it hard to understand, his voice rising a fraction. "If you go back to Zword, what meaning is there to everything I've done? To keep living in poverty, to keep being looked down upon by those people, to be called parasites and low-class scum to your face, to be trampled under their feet, manipulated, and humiliated?"

Nord remained completely motionless.

"Don't you want to drink Imbit wine? Don't you want to live the kind of life only aristocrats can afford? That kind of life is only a step away from us now, and you're just going to turn around and walk away?" Vilak suddenly found it somewhat laughable.

"That kind of life isn't suitable for us—or rather, it's not suitable for me. I admit, I used to yearn for it immensely. I even put on airs in the noisy, stinking slums, trying to imitate the way wealthy people ate in restaurants, but that's not what I deserve."

Vilak took a deep breath and sat down in front of Nord. "You probably still don't realize how much money I can get. Let me put it to you this way: as long as the deal with the Pyramont Company goes smoothly, combined with my previous accumulations, we will end up with two million ginks. That's not silver ginks, let alone copper ginks; it's a denomination you've never seen in the slums, a fortune we couldn't earn even if we toiled for one hundred thousand years! With that money, you can drink as much Imbit wine as you want, and you can trample those who looked down upon you under your feet, telling them who is stronger now!"

"What's the use of spending twenty ginks on anything good?" Nord said flatly.

Vilak's slightly ferocious expression froze.

"Throwing money away just to buy such expensive wine," Nord repeated the words Dempsey had once said to him. "People in upper-class society are out of their minds. We still need to live our lives honestly and sensibly."

Vilak laughed out of extreme anger, a look of disdain on his face. "So now you agree with Dempsey's words? But the irony is that you, who have always envied aristocratic life, still cling to your principles, while Dempsey, who held the upper-class society in utter contempt, was ready to stand with Fletcher for money and plunge us into the abyss at any moment!"

"Do you think Dempsey is the only one changed by money?" Nord asked.

Vilak didn't know how to answer that question.

"Vilak, look at what you've become now. If one day—even though I haven't betrayed you—I still end up affecting the execution of your plans for this trip, what will you do?"

Nord's gaze instantly flared like the sun, and Vilak didn't dare meet his eyes directly.

"I'll find a way to work around you," Vilak didn't answer directly.

"I hope so... if that day ever comes."

Vilak composed his emotions. "Nord, I took a huge risk coming here today, not to argue with you about these things. You're the only person I can trust in this city, in this world—the only one who can keep me real..."

"I understand, Vilak. Actually, if I were put in your position and faced with Dempsey's betrayal, I can't imagine what choices I would have made either. I'm not resenting you; brothers reaching this point isn't just one person's fault. I've simply seen through some things and realized that my past self was too naive. The world I yearned for isn't actually wonderful; it's filled with a spiritual stench that I simply cannot tolerate," Nord said.

"...I respect your choice." After a long silence, Vilak stood up, walked to the door, and placed his hand on the doorknob. "It's a pity I have no way back... and even if I did, I would still press on at all costs."