Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Chapter 155 The Two Sides of the Human Heart

A metallic hiss, twisting, came from deep within the steam pipes. Sofby suddenly extinguished the kerosene lamp, letting the darkness engulf the two of them like a tidal wave.

In the absolute silence, Charlotte heard the rustling sound of slime mold crawling over the pipe wall—the bacteria killed by the high temperature were climbing back up the riverbank, pressing closer and closer.

"Slow down your breathing, just hang in there a little longer."

The coldness had faded, and the girl's voice was low, yet it held an undeniable firmness. "The exit is just ahead."

There was no response; the spreading germs had already seeped into his throat, making his forced voice choked and hoarse.

Charlotte didn't want her little sparrow to see her so vulnerable, even as a puppet, so she simply nodded slightly, leaning half her body on Sophie's shoulder, her steps unsteady and sluggish.

At the end of the pipeline was an abandoned steam hub, its rusted iron gate half-open, letting in a sliver of hazy daylight.

Sophby looked around warily, and only after confirming it was safe did she help Charlotte out of the pipe.

“This is the underground passage of the old town,” she explained, loosening her arms. “Even extraordinary individuals cannot quickly find this place by navigating the dense crowds.”

"Thank you..."

With a sigh of gratitude, Charlotte, having lost her support, couldn't help but cough violently, stinging from the pain.

Dark red blood spilled from her lips, then dripped down her chin onto her front, staining her dark coat even more deeply. She staggered and grabbed the damp brick wall for support, her knuckles turning white from the force.

Sophby turned around almost immediately and helped her up.

“You don’t need to save a dying person.” As Isabella, she spoke softly, her voice weak but clear, “You know I’m already infected, and my final fate will be no different from those floating corpses on the riverbank.”

“Even if our goals are different, I don’t want to become a burden to anyone. You don’t need to speak up for me. This investigation into the epidemic is just wishful thinking on the part of an ordinary person.”

"Do not talk."

The little peacock's voice was filled with panic. She looked down as she examined Charlotte's wounds, deliberately avoiding the other's gaze. "I've said it before, only the living can seek the truth."

"My life or death is not important, but this disease that has brought disaster to the world should come to an end."

It was deliberate defiance; she let a metallic taste rise in her throat and let tears well up in her eyes—like rouge smudged by pain.

The puppet was indeed on the verge of collapse; Charlotte even felt a numb sensation as its internal organs gradually dissolved. Of course, it was still a carefully calculated distance from true 'death.' So, before it was completely abandoned, she could see what Sophby would do for a complete stranger she had only met once.

"The medical committee's stubbornness will slow progress and lead to more deaths. As a doctor, and as one of the masses, I..."

Peaceful and gentle, like every saint who dedicates herself to generations, her words were filled with virtues and pure goodness that the world shouldn't possess, only—

"Shut up."

Sufby suddenly grabbed her chin, her blood-red pupils burning like flames in the dim light. "Do you think you're acting in a cliché opera about entrusting your children to others on your deathbed? Whether you want to help the world or make selfless sacrifices, it's none of my business. What I hate to hear most are these so-called lofty ideals!"

Well, talking about ideals seems to have made my little sparrow a bit nervous, after all, Watson went to the end of the road for that ideal of equality.

"Well then, cough, you can leave now, unknown girl."

She spoke haltingly, while observing Sofby's changing expressions. The girl's brows were furrowed, and her lips were pressed into a straight line—a habit she had when deep in thought, a natural expression of distress.

"Do you really intend to reveal these things at the meeting? In the state you are in now?"

“I had no choice. I don’t understand what you mean by extraordinary. I was just fulfilling my duty as a doctor. Even if I only have a few hours left to live, that’s enough.”

The air seemed to freeze for a moment, and Charlotte could see the struggle in the little peacock's eyes—reason told her she should avoid accidents and not get involved in the power struggles, but some deeper emotion was pulling her back.

"Is it worth it?" Finally setting aside her thoughts, Sophie asked from the bottom of her heart, "To risk her life to uncover the truth?"

Although she had received kindness from Watson, she had little yearning for that lofty ideal. Therefore, even though her heart was set on that white-haired figure in the distance, she still did not understand the value of sacrifice.

Therefore, I felt distressed and heartbroken because of that person's departure without saying goodbye, and I felt resentful and aggrieved. The current situation seemed to have brought me back to that moment, except that now I had the opportunity to ask questions.

"Some things are more important than life itself, and worth doing, aren't they? Whether driven by emotion or by ideals."

Propelled herself forward, somewhat awkwardly leaning against the brick wall, Charlotte didn't look at her little bird again, but instead staggered into the distance.

despair.

Her shoes landed on the uneven pebbles, causing her to lose her balance and fall weakly. However, instead of hitting the ground, she landed in her familiar embrace once again.

Sure enough, even though this two-faced bird claimed to be unrelated, it still managed to get up and help me up.

It's not just about spiritual similarities, but also about the shared commitment to sacrificing for ideals.

"I'll go with you..."

Sofby's voice was low and hoarse, as if it were being squeezed out from between her teeth.

"why?"

“I saved you, so you owe me. If you can save as many lives as I have, then I can also benefit from it.”

"That's it?"

"Otherwise what?" The little peacock suddenly looked up, a sharp glint in its eyes. "We're complete strangers, what other reason could there be?"

Charlotte curled her lips slightly but did not reply.

What she loved to see was the bird's expression, yearning for tiny hopes, yet unable to utter a word due to inner denial, ultimately turning into nothing more than a show of bravado masking inner weakness.

Whether it's a reason to take advantage of the situation or a veiled guess, she will satisfy Sufby's desires. Sweet fruits always need to be watered with bitterness.

Of course, in stories depicting doctors, who have experienced the torment of pain and assumed the inevitability of sacrifice, it is natural to add highlights of humanity and express the unrestrained spirit of the story in one stroke.

It's time to demand an explanation. With that ugly face, they're occupying such a high moral standard.

My gaze shifts to the afternoon council chamber, to the high platform made of marble.

Fauval was holding a sheet of paper, passionately reading out the results of the epidemic investigation, avoiding the death toll and ignoring the control of the source of the disease, and talking at length about the proposed measures.

"Therefore, we have every reason to believe that the epidemic has been effectively controlled."

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience, and the nobles and wealthy merchants looked relieved, as if the disaster that had killed thousands was just a minor accident.

until—

The doors to the council chamber were flung open with a loud crash.

A cold wind swept in, and a slender figure slowly walked in. Her dark coat was stained with dried blood at the hem, and dark red markings spread across her pale face like a curse.

Like a 'monster' with two sides to the human heart.

Chapter 156 The Outbreak of the "Plague"

Rewind time.

Re-entering the game without a plan is nothing but a futile argument. Even if one is covered in wounds, as an ordinary 'doctor,' all one can do is to tell the flimsy truth, only to be crushed and denied by the so-called authority.

Therefore, Charlotte needs to give this performance a perfect opening.

Digesting the potion requires acting, and the best feedback for acting is the affirmation under the watchful eyes of those around you.

My fingertips gently traced the hideous red spots on the side of my face. If these traces of slime mold were to cover my entire face, they would be too ugly. But if they were to contrast with the half of my face that was intact, they would create a unique kind of beauty.

The beauty of imperfection evokes regret and tears, making one sigh with sorrow; this is the kind of embellishment that most easily stirs up sympathy.

Like Hela, the ruler of the underworld in mythology, she already possesses a face that is both beautiful and terrifying, which can serve as the basis for a 'monster'. What she lacks is the scene of slaughtering the sacred mountain into emptiness, blooming with grotesque and terrifying images.

Fortunately, those high-sounding individuals used lies and boasts to create their own stage.

Charlotte disdained to act like a vulgar beast, seeking the approval of the masses by frightening children. What she desired to see was to terrify these self-important people who always sat on high platforms, carrying wine and cups.

Perhaps because she paused for a moment when touching the lesion, Sofby mistakenly thought she was enduring pain or disgusted by the ugliness, and subconsciously reached out and grasped her wrist.

"Don't touch."

The red-haired girl wanted to offer some words of comfort, but thinking of the doctor's gentle and kind demeanor, and how he cared only for the common people, she softened her tone, though she touched him very lightly.

"It will accelerate the ulceration."

"It doesn't matter, girl. What's there will fade away, and what's gone will become familiar. I'm prepared to make sacrifices, so why would I care about these things?"

"However, thank you for your concern, even though we are just strangers."

Their voices clashed, and the previously calm tone of their voices instead created a distance between them, igniting the suppressed emotions in Sofby's eyes, causing her to clench her fists tightly, her nails digging deep into her palms.

She almost remembered that gray-haired figure who casually pulled her out of the mire, then chose to sacrifice himself and leave without a second thought.

There was nothing more to say; they were still on their way to the meeting. However, the severe epidemic in Florence had left the streets deserted, and even the carriages that usually sped by were nowhere to be seen.

So the two of them continued to lean on each other and walk side by side, supporting each other.

Fortunately, that magnificent tower was always so eye-catching that even with faltering steps and blurred vision, one could never miss it by simply looking up.

—It symbolizes unshakeable power.

"I'm going to prepare some things." Approaching the parliament building, Sofby abruptly turned around, her red hair tracing a messy arc in the air. "You need to look..."

"Like a respectable doctor."

She bit her lip, and as her voice faded into the distance, only the concern in her words remained.

Charlotte watched the girl's almost panicked retreating figure, a playful smile curving her lips. Her little peacock was still so easily swayed—especially by similar things.

After Watson left, her words and actions, though perhaps slightly similar, were a reflection of her; her heart and eyes were filled with nothing but you.

She smiled silently, and soon returned with a faded velvet box.

The box lid opens and closes, revealing an exquisite half-mask inside, with delicate and beautiful vine patterns outlined in silver thread.

“An alchemical product that can temporarily suppress the worsening of wounds,” Sofby explained stiffly, avoiding the former’s probing gaze. “Anyway… we won’t need it.”

Indeed, it is said that this mask possesses a subtle spirituality, enough to inhibit the proliferation of those slime molds, so—

"Put it on for me?"

She made the request softly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"kindness."

Even the little peacock couldn't refuse.

When the cool, silvery threads brushed against her cheek, Charlotte could feel Sophomore's breathing become cautious. Occasionally, the girl's fingertips would brush against the unaffected skin, sending a slight shiver down her spine.

"Thank you. Political and academic debates and the back-and-forth of interests are not suitable for a girl like you to get involved in. So, regardless of right or wrong, staying out of it is your best choice."

Their figures passed each other by, and then a word of thanks drew a clear line, as if they were saying goodbye with lips from years ago. Only back then she used sweet words to express cruelty, while now she used words of concern that seemed perfectly natural.

Whether it's easier to accept the indifference of acquaintances or the meticulous care of strangers is a matter of opinion.

Anyway, Charlotte won't take any responsibility.

After saying goodbye to her little sparrow, she roughly knew the reason why Sufby chose her, whether it was an unexpected rescue or a subsequent act of assistance, based on the threads of fate and the clues gathered.

The restoration of the newly rich in the tundra requires going against the tide and accumulating more merits, while following the established procedures will only prolong this process indefinitely.

Bold attempts are always more effective than complacency; this has nothing to do with familiarity or deep feelings, it's simply an investment.

On the marble steps, the guards' gazes lingered on Charlotte's face for a moment before quickly shifting away.

No one dared to stop her from wearing a half-mask—the Valenti name still carries weight in the medical community, even if she is slighted by her uncles and elders; the legitimacy of her status will never change because of a single word.

Inside the conference room, Fowler's greasy voice was reading out carefully fabricated statistics. Charlotte chose the most conspicuous seat, her silver mask reflecting a cold light under the chandelier.

"...An investigation has revealed that the outbreak originated from poor sanitation management in the downstream slums, but the Medical Committee has successfully developed an effective treatment, and the epidemic will soon be brought under control!"

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience, and the nobles and wealthy merchants looked relieved, as if the disaster that had killed thousands was just a minor accident.

only--

"lie."

A cold, clear female voice pierced the hall like a sharp blade. All eyes instantly focused on the speaker. She slowly straightened up, letting her skirt rustle as it swept across the floor.

“Isabella Valenti?” Fauval’s voice suddenly rose. “You—how could you possibly be?!”

Without answering or stopping, she slowly walked toward the high platform where the person was.

"Surprised?" Dr. Bella's voice was usually calm, but at this moment her words were clear to everyone. "After all, the colleague I was investigating with died because of your selfishness."

There was an uproar.

The man's face turned deathly pale instantly. He slammed his fist on the table: "Guards! Drag this madman out!"

However, no one moved.

Because the mask that belonged to the monster has already been removed.

A chorus of gasps swept through the hall as the ulcerated, ugly skin was exposed to the lights, its dark red markings writhing as if alive. Several ladies fainted on the spot, and even the guards involuntarily retreated.