Author: 唇亡齿寒 / Lips Gone, Teeth Cold

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 97

As expected, the door to the room on the second floor was wide open. Alois was sitting on the floor, looking terrified, as if he had seen a ghost. Joshua, holding his aching head, walked up behind him.

“I told you not to wander around, but you didn’t listen.”

Alois, not realizing someone was behind him, was startled again by Joshua’s voice. “When did you get back?” he asked, looking distressed.

“Just now.”

“Are you some kind of Bluebeard? Keeping a room full of corpses at home and forbidding anyone to see it?”

“…Those aren’t corpses.”

Joshua’s explanation did little to convince him. The small, windowless room contained a wooden shelf as high as the ceiling, neatly divided into compartments like a giant honeycomb. Each compartment held a wide-mouthed jar filled with formalin, and each jar contained a pair of lifeless eyeballs. Combined with the fact that the room’s owner was a notorious assassin, it was like something out of a horror movie!

The countless lifeless stares seemed to pierce through the door, pinning Alois in place and making it hard for him to breathe. A chill ran down his spine.

“I’ve told you about this room before, more than once. I thought you’d be prepared…” Joshua continued to defend himself, futilely.

“I thought you were joking!” Alois’s voice trembled.

“Besides, they’re just eyeballs. What’s the big deal?” The assassin felt increasingly ridiculous as he spoke. “Some people collect stamps, others collect specimens. I just happen to collect eyeballs…”

“Your hobbies are quite different from ordinary people!” Alois tried to stand, but his legs, weakened by fear, wouldn’t cooperate. “Are those eyeballs real?”

Joshua helped him up, avoiding his gaze. “Most of them are fake…”

“So some of them are real?!” Alois exclaimed in disbelief. “Where did you get them?”

“Uh, after I killed people, I just…”

“Don’t make it sound as casual as stopping by a cake shop after work!”

Joshua closed the door, blocking out the needle-like stares, and helped Alois toward the bedroom. “It has nothing to do with you.”

This statement struck a nerve in Alois. He angrily shook off Joshua’s hand, glaring at him. “Ah, yes, it has nothing to do with me. Your interests are your own business and have nothing to do with me.” He marched into the bedroom, yanked off the bed cover, and flopped onto the bed, ignoring the slight mustiness from unwashed bedding.

Joshua knew he had said the wrong thing again. Frustrated, he tugged at his hair, pacing nervously before walking to the bed and gently shaking Alois’s shoulder. He found a clumsy excuse. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I don’t want to.”

Joshua lay down beside him, pressing his body against Alois’s back. “I’m sorry. I know it’s scary,” he said. “I know it’s… weird, but I…”

He remembered the feeling of being watched by those lifeless eyes, as if the dead were cursing him from hell. Every time he felt those stares, he experienced a thrilling pleasure. In those moments, he was no longer a helpless boy but the master of others’ lives, a feared assassin known as the Mourner. He reveled in this twisted delight, like an actor basking in applause.

He had collected eyes from his victims and eagerly ordered various artificial eyes from medical suppliers, preserving them in formalin to enrich his collection. He knew this was perverse, but he was already covered in blood; what difference would a “pervert” title make?

But things changed after he met Alois. He began to confront the darkness within him. He realized that such behavior was a form of self-torture, seeking fleeting pleasure to escape his unbearable past.

About a year ago, after cleaning up the room, he left for a mission, only to end up imprisoned. On that distant prison planet, he encountered a pair of eyes that he would never forget. Whenever they looked at him, he felt an uncontrollable excitement and an inexplicable calm. Those clear blue eyes slowly healed his inner wounds, protecting him from the nightmares of his past. He had thought about adding those eyes to his collection, but without a doubt, they shone brightest only on their owner’s face.

What Joshua desired was not just those eyes but Alois himself—his eyes, his warm body, his embrace, everything.

“Do you hate me for this?” Joshua asked quietly.

Alois turned to face him. “Would you put my eyes in formalin too?”

“No,” Joshua said.

“Neither do I.” Alois snuggled closer to him. “You’re a famous assassin with a couple of strange hobbies. That’s normal. The Galactic Diva is a gambler and a drinker. But I don’t want to hear you say, ‘It has nothing to do with you.’ I hate it when you say that, as if I shouldn’t care about you too much. If something isn’t suitable to tell me, just explain why instead of pushing me away with one sentence… Do you think I’ve taken too much of your freedom, leaving you with too little space?”

Joshua opened his mouth, confused about what to say. Was that really what Alois thought?

“I understand. I won’t say that again.” He took Alois’s hand, placing it over his heart. “Feel that?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“This place—you can take as much of it and for as long as you want,” Joshua said solemnly. “As long as it beats, it belongs to you.”

Alois’s eyes became wet, his chest filled with a mix of sweetness and bitterness. “Even if it stops, it’s still mine!” he said, pulling his hand back and covering his face. “Go get the food. I’m starving!”

Joshua jumped out of bed, went downstairs, and returned with the food he had just bought. When he got back, Alois seemed back to normal, except for his slightly red eyes, even managing to show disdain for their dinner.

“Self-heating single-serve meals!” He took the can reluctantly, like he was facing the broccoli at Hecate. “Are we camping? The last time I ate this stuff was during survival training at school!”

“There are other foods, but you know I can’t manage them.”

“Fine for today, but tomorrow… let me use the kitchen!”

“Please, chef.”

The next morning, Alois woke to the dim light of an Olympus dawn. Joshua was still asleep, briefly roused by his movement and murmuring, “Are you making breakfast?”

“Yes. I’ll call you in an hour.”

Joshua glanced at the time on the communication terminal by his pillow before dozing off again. Alois washed up and went downstairs to check out Joshua’s kitchen, finding it as clean as he expected. From the ingredients Joshua bought, he picked some decent ones to make a soup.

As he boiled water, the doorbell rang.

Alois paused his work, listening for any movement upstairs. Joshua made no sound, either not hearing the bell or pretending not to. After a few minutes, the bell rang again. Alois set the ladle aside and went to the entrance to check the monitor.

On the screen stood a man in a suit, holding a briefcase.

“Hello,” Alois said. “What can I do for you?”

The man adjusted his tie and spoke clearly. “Hello, I’m Alec Stewart from Lancaster Entertainment. Is Mr. Joshua Euler at home? I’d like to discuss our company’s plans to purchase land for an amusement park…”

Alois remembered the guard mentioning this. He wondered why they were interested in this bald hilltop for an amusement park. Would anyone really come here? The thoughts of the big bosses were indeed puzzling.

He opened the door. “Mr. Euler is still resting. You can come in and wait for a bit.”

The man nodded politely. “Thank you. Here is my card,” he said, reaching into his briefcase.

At that moment, years of training heightened Alois’s senses. Something was off! The scene felt eerily familiar, like he had seen it somewhere before.

How could he forget? This was exactly how Miss Leia had been killed!

As the man pulled out a spray bottle instead of a card, Alois quickly stepped back, intending to slam the door shut. But it was too late. The man pressed the bottle, releasing a high-concentration anesthetic gas into Alois’s face. He inhaled it and immediately collapsed.

The man put the spray bottle back in his bag, adjusted his tie again, then hoisted Alois’s body over his shoulder, making sure to close the door behind him. “This was too easy,” he thought. “This trick never fails. Why are people always so unguarded?”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>