There was no one in the cabin, and it didnât look like anyone was coming. Rosen closed the door and stood in the dark for a moment. Ian Kernerâs voice rang in her ears.
-Bring it to me.
âWhat the hell was he thinking when he sent me to the cabin alone?â
It was confusing, but she didnât have the luxury of worrying about such useless things.
She had no time to waste. She turned on the small gas lamp and walked over to the desk. As Ian said, the second drawer was unlocked. It didnât take long to rummage through the well-organized drawer. Inside a brown bag were well-folded brown pockets.
She unwrapped one of them. A small amount of white powder flew into the air.
She put her finger in the powder and brought it to her nose. It was a well-refined powder of dried grass, divided into proper doses. It was a dr*g that was easy to abuseâŚ
But it wouldnât do anything with this amount. She needed more of this powder for her plans. And she was sure Ian Kerner had more than this. It was somewhere in this cabin, so all she had to do was find it. Then she would have a chance.
Rosen fumbled through the open drawer again. Just in case, she lifted up every paper stack and opened the boxes one by one.
-So let me help you. Just once. You donât want to admit it, but Iâm one of the people you saved.
As she wandered through the darkness, she realized how two faced she was. She tried not to think about it too deeply, but she couldnât help it.
The strength that embraced her and the feeling of his hand pushing her away lingered on her skin. He hugged her willingly. She wanted to cry. She liked him.
Nevertheless, as soon as he turned around, she ran to his cabin. Leaving him on the deck after he collapsed in front of her.
Ian Kerner made a mistake. He must be deeply regretting it by now. Anyway, one thing was certain. He trusted her in that moment, and now she was in the midst of betraying his faith.
After catching her breath, she began to open the drawers one after the other, starting from the bottom. All of the drawers except the second were locked.
Rosen finally reached for the top drawer. Ah, finally. It was unlocked like the second drawer. It did not open even when she tried to pull it with force, but it was not locked because the handle was rattling.
She groaned and pulled the drawer. It was hard work to use all her strength without making a sound.
Soon the stuck object came unlodged and the entire drawer came out. Her knees hurt, but she forcibly swallowed a moan and got up from the floor. And placed the gas lamp on the empty drawer.
âSh!t.â
Swear words were about to pop out. The first drawer was empty. All that there was was a little clutter, nothing that seemed useful. She didnât see anything like a key.
She picked up the rolled-up piece of paper that was stuck in a drawer to appease her broken heart.
She could not read the letters, but it demanded her full attention in an instant. The shape was peculiar. It didnât seem like an ordinary book. It wasnât an officially published book, but a tattered notebook with newspaper articles pasted in it.
Was it made by Ian Kerner? Looking at it, she held her breath.
Her face was on page after page. Even if she rubbed her eyes to see if she had seen it wrong, it remained unchanged. Her face was printed on newspaper clippings that had turned yellow due to fading.
She turned the pages as if possessed.
Each clipping had turned yellow due to fading and had letters with familiar shapes. Even if she tried to turn her attention away, they were painted over with countless colored lines, and the letters she did recognize caught her attention.
[Rosen Walker, Rosen Walker, Rosen WalkerâŚ]
[T/N: In case you have forgotten, Ian had written Rosenâs name on her palm when she asked for his autograph.]
It was something she just learned. She turned the pages over and over again. A map was attached to the back cover. A line was drawn on it with a red pen. She knew it as soon as she saw it. It was her escape route.
There was someoneâs handwriting in every blank space.
Among the unrecognizable words, a familiar word repeated. She opened her fist, which had been clenched, to check his writing. It was a little smudged from sweat, but it was enough to tell the shape.
[Rosen Walker.]
It was the same letters. The font was the same.
Rosen stood there blankly.
The owner of this scrapbook was Ian Kerner. At that moment, it was too much for her to bear.
-You saved me.
-As long as you, the only one I saved, survive, I can keep goingâŚ
-No one will believe me, but Iâve never hated you.
-We have some similarities.
-But Iâm sure you know more than you think. I meant it that way.
âHe didnât lie to me. He didnât just say things I wanted to hear.â
Ian Kerner was more sincere than she thought. He was deeply guilty towards her. Guilt became sympathy, and he was too nice to ignore it, so heâŚ
His actions, which she could not understand, fit together like a puzzle in her head.
She hurriedly dropped the notebook as if it was on fire. The paper crumbled at her feet. Her heart was beating so loud it hurt her ears.
For the first time, she was grateful that she couldnât read. If she could read his notes, it would have been really hard.
Because the moment she found out his secret, and found the scrapbook in his deep drawer, she was thinking about something else deep in her heart.
âMaybe I could use this.â
âI think I can fool him and win the fight.â
âAnd Iâll do it.â
The hope that had dried up swelled. She bit her lip. It took her longer than expected to regain her composure. She put the scrapbook back in its original place.
Her hands moved faster when there was hope. She put her hand back into the drawer and continued her search.
Soon she found what she was looking for. Under the light of the gas lamp, a thick envelope of sleeping powder was revealed.
âIan Kerner shouldnât have trusted me. Never, not for a moment, should he have trusted me.â
-Including people like you who are mean, cowardly, and only how to run away⌠who are crazy about their own comfort.
âIan Kerner, you should have been more careful.â
He was as crazy as she was, but he was too kind to be her guard.
âHeâs right. Iâm mean and cowardly. I am a person who lives only for myself. I am a prisoner who deceived the whole Empire. If it wasnât for that man, I wouldnât have been able to make it this far.â
âThough, it wasnât a lie when I said I like him. It was heartbreaking to find out that he was broken, and I really want to help him.â
If he still had sincerity, heâd be one of the few people in this d*mned world who could win her heart.
But her heart had been terribly broken, and she had already figured it out.
The mind was of no use to anything. Truly loving someone only made you weak. Itâs stupid to take out your heart and give it to someone else. That kind of behavior made you lose fights that you could win.
Even if she didnât have anything, she had been doing those stupid things all her childhood.
Wasnât it time to stop now?
A single dose of sleep powder was 50 milligrams. That was enough for a person with insomnia to manage to sleep for six hours. If she used 1.5 times the amount, he would fall into a deep sleep for 8 hours.
The military supplied things in ignorantly large capacities. Anyway, they were not cautious.
When the entire second drawer of Ianâs desk was searched, 250 grams of sleeping powder was gathered. He hadnât shown the lifeboat key to her since the first day, but he must have never thought that she would steal the powder.
If he had, he wouldnât have sent her to his cabin alone, no matter how messed up he was.
Indeed, since the powder itself was unfamiliar to the general public, they wouldnât think to be wary of it. Most people knew that sleeping herbs were grass that burned when you couldnât fall asleep, but they didnât know that if you refined it into powder, it could be as powerful as a sedative.
âBut I am not. I am Emilyâs pupil.â
A dr*g that was only used for panicked patients or insomniacs, and was so easy to abuse that it was difficult to obtain even in private sectors.
She was convinced from the moment she found out that Ian Kerner had insomnia. That heâd have enough powder to put this whole ship to sleep.
Sleeping powder was colorless and odorless when mixed with liquid.
A handful would do.
What if she used it on the public drinking supply?
***
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