Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 44: A Mysterious Call

Myss’s fingers were suddenly empty, and it felt as though all the blood in his body had frozen solid.

A second ago, he had still been enthusiastically planning out the day, with snake-Salaar wriggling against his skin. The next second, everything was gone.

The feeling was hard to describe. It was like being dragged out of a comfortably warm bath and thrown straight into the freezing wind. The whole world became cold and heavy.

The first time Salaar had been snatched away, a solid, unquestioning trust had still remained in Myss’s heart. He knew Salaar wasn’t that weak, that he would never be defeated so simply.

But this time… This time, the one who had acted wasn’t the Perfected Creation, but “Salaar.”

Of course, this was Salaar’s fault too.

A “Salaar” with no heart, a broken, incomplete “Salaar,” still probably counted as Salaar.

But the pain didn’t stop there. Bitter, sour, sticky foam seemed to churn up from the bottom of Myss’s heart.

He shouldn’t have underestimated the Perfected Creation’s attack. He shouldn’t have ignored weak little Truman and focused only on guarding against “Salaar”…

He should have checked more carefully before going out. He should have hidden Salaar in a more concealed place. He should have handled the ambush more calmly. He should have… Should have been more perfect…

With just that single thought, Myss suddenly realized something had wrapped around his heart. He felt like a butterfly whose wings had gotten caught in a web, unable to think freely.

A vast panic seized him. The scene from a few minutes ago replayed over and over in his mind, squeezing out endless “what ifs.”

“Salaar” dispelled his defenses and took two steps forward.

As usual, he ignored Truman’s fawning praise about how amazing his defensive magic artifacts were, then gently reached out and laid a hand on the back of Myss’s head.

Myss’s thoughts were such a tangled mess that he failed to dodge in time.

“Acting on emotion is unwise. Sometimes what people call ‘dignity’ is merely another form of arrogance.”

“Salaar” said this in a gentleness that made the skin crawl. “Surely you didn’t really think I would casually choose just anyone as a partner?”

“I assume you’ve discovered by now that the god here is different from the Fallen Child. It’s not some crude harvester, but a tamer. Which means It will not exterminate humanity outright.”

“So long as humanity continues to exist, the world still has hope. Besides, It’s not the only god born from an Abnormal Fruit. It cannot so easily seize full control over the human world.”

“But I can use Its divine power, along with the contract between you and me, to trap your mind here. Just as I said, Mr. Myss. Now that you possess emotions, emotions breed madness.”

“Salaar’s” voice remained unwavering.

“…Everything, for the sake of ending the Night Scourge.”

Those words pried open Myss’s ears and threw his thoughts further and further into disorder. Just like a butterfly struggling ever more violently while more and more silk threads cling to it.

“Salaar” draped an arm around Myss’s shoulders and led him toward the studio.

The familiar whispering started up again, wrapping around him strand by strand like spider silk.

“I heard he changed rooms last night. He acts like he doesn’t care, but clearly he does.”

“It’s obvious he feels guilty. If he and Karns were a proper couple, would there be any need to stage this little show for everyone?”

“See? Trash stays trash. Once Karns comes knocking, he still has to obey. That kind of person deserves to suffer a little…”

The buzzing voices slid past Myss’s ears, making him increasingly irritated. After Truman’s ambush, he could no longer avoid the crowd. He had to guard against every single person.

Because he couldn’t find Salaar’s heart anymore.

Salaar’s body still counted as Salaar. He couldn’t stay too far from that body for too long. He had to… He had to follow “Salaar” for now. Until he found a solution, he had to abide by the Red Amber’s contract…

[…Remedy…]

Just as “Salaar” had said, that thing would never miss such a perfect chance, with the Chaos Archdemon whose “mind had been separated and power weakened”… He had to get Salaar’s heart back. And until then, he couldn’t create more conflict…

[…Compliance…]

That was right. He couldn’t act recklessly again. Sincere or not, he had to follow Red Amber’s rules.

Hadn’t he understood that already? A difficult environment only obstructed the investigation. He had to earn the approval of these hateful little insects…

[…Submission…]

Fork lay stiffly around Myss’s wrist, motionless like a real silver bracelet. Invisible thoughts had become shackles weighing a thousand pounds. Myss followed after Salaar mechanically, desperately thinking through the next move.

His plan had to be flawless. He couldn’t allow the enemy to seize on any weakness. He absolutely couldn’t make another mistake…

Creak. The studio door was pushed open.

Sunlight poured in like molten gold into Myss’s eyes, so similar to Salaar’s golden defenses. Everything from just now rose over him again like poison, and Myss couldn’t help freezing for an instant.

“Myss! Remember, it’s not your fault!”

Suddenly, a tiny voice shouted out from within Myss’s memory, cutting across the spiral of thoughts dragging him downward.

Myss stopped in his tracks.

Wait a second. Even Salaar had said it wasn’t his fault. That annoying Salaar!

The Great Hero had never been stingy about throwing blame onto him, yet just now he had actually said it wasn’t his fault!

Myss wasn’t good at handling complicated situations like this. But he understood Salaar. If it were Salaar—his Hero Salaar, the one he had known for more than three hundred years—what would Salaar do here?

That annoying face popped into his mind again, clearing its throat with that equally annoying voice.

Think, Myss. The Perfected Creation isn’t acting on impulse. Every one of its attacks against us has a very clear purpose.

First, it made me remember a huge number of painful memories in order to destroy my mind. You escaped because you lack those painful memories.

After that, it guided the Red Amber’s employees into a kind of mental siege against you. The methods escalated each time, trying to force you into self-reflection. But you don’t acknowledge human rules at all, so its efforts were pointless.

And finally, it snatched me away from your side.

Think about it. What are the conditions for its attack? I can figure it out even with Knife’s brain. You’re not going to tell me you can’t, are you? …Surely not?

…Of course he knew!

Fuming, Myss grabbed the imaginary Salaar and gave him a fierce hug.

Because Hero Salaar was the only being in the world he truly cared about. Only Salaar could genuinely affect his heart.

Yes. The Perfected Creation’s attack conditions were simple and vicious—

It merely needed him to doubt himself and begin to waver. Then its divine power could slip in through the cracks. The moment he started actively striving for perfection, that divine net had clung to him.

And stealing Salaar’s heart also forced him to stay near “Salaar,” which was practically the same as planting a surveillance spell on him. Quite simply, killing two birds with one stone.

Mm. In less than ten minutes, he had figured everything out. He really was a genius.

The storm of self-reproach came to a halt at once, replaced by a furry sort of delight. Myss settled himself on the model’s chair, scooped up Cinnamon from the floor, and buried his nose in the cat’s soft fur, hiding his expression.

Between the twitching ears of the cat, Myss secretly looked toward “Salaar.” That thing had once again taken its place before the easel, continuing to paint that unbearably boring canvas.

That’s right. Salaar’s heart would never submit. The Perfected Creation could do nothing to that heart. Knife and Fork had both been born from the power of an Abnormal Fruit. They were sturdy things.

And he would never submit either. How could he possibly lose to a Salaar running around with Knife’s brain? He was definitely going to get the Great Hero’s heart back and then mock him mercilessly right to his face.

The instant he completely sorted it out, Myss’s mind cleared considerably. Unfortunately, that force binding him was still there, making his emotions harder to control.

He absolutely couldn’t yield to the Perfected Creation again, Myss thought. But how was he supposed to ensure both “not leaving Salaar” and “searching for Salaar’s heart” at the same time?

…Wait. I got it!

……

Father Kalen had once considered whether he might be able to destroy the blood amber scattered throughout the city and weaken the influence of the divine power.

To that end, he had gathered quite a few cats and discussed the possibility of seizing the blood amber and destroying it in one place.

Unfortunately, Miss Claws informed him that the entire city of Semper had more than a thousand cats, but among them, at most six hundred were young and sturdy enough and willing to participate.

Compared to that, the amount of blood amber in Semper was practically a plague.

Every commoner household had more than three full sets of blood amber jewelry per person. Even beggars could be stripped of a few chipped scraps. Not to mention the enormous collections held by nobles, pieces of jewelry locked away in iron cabinets, secret rooms, and underground vaults.

The blood amber seemed like the nodes of a spiderweb.

The closer one got to the city center, the more nobles there were, and the denser the blood amber became. Even if they destroyed all the blood amber in commoner households, it would have very limited effect on the overall situation.

In short, the cats had the will but not the means, and Kalen could think of no better solution.

But Myss and Salaar were still suffering inside Red Amber. He could not allow himself to lose heart at a time like this.

…And so, at this very moment, Father Kalen once again stood before the home of Danton’s parents.

Since he couldn’t eliminate the blood amber, he had to at least understand how it exerted its influence.

The last time, Kalen had dropped the blood amber ring, then claimed he had urgent business and hurried away without taking it. He had noticed the old couple’s displeasure as he left.

This time, Father Kalen came to apologize, bringing gifts and explaining that his behavior during the last visit, when accepting the ring, had been discourteous.

The old couple wore dark clothing, but their complexions were oddly flushed and cheerful.

Every corner of the house had been tidied up, and several new portraits of Danton now hung on the walls. In them, Danton wore a free-spirited smile and looked radiantly happy.

The old couple’s smiles deepened the moment they saw the visiting priest.

“Oh my, I was wondering whether perhaps we had not hosted you well enough.”

Danton’s mother, Madam Domini, said, “After you left, we reflected on it for quite some time.”

“My apologies. My conduct last time was wholly inappropriate,” Father Kalen said. “I didn’t damage your ring, did I? You don’t seem to be wearing it today.”

She had instead changed to a more luxurious piece with a larger blood amber.

Danton’s mother smiled and waved to a servant. “Go fetch that ring. I’ve had it kept for you all this time. Such a meaningful gift.”

The servant quickly returned carrying a silver tray. The blood amber ring lay quietly upon soft silk, gleaming like new. Kalen lightly touched the blood amber with his fingertips, and once again a surge of burning pain raced through him.

Kalen lowered his hand without a flicker of expression and instead picked up his teacup.

“It’s a beautiful ring. This time, I’ll accept it properly.”

His voice came out a bit dry. “When you say it has commemorative meaning, do you mean ‘the good news regarding Mr. Danton’?”

“Oh yes, the very best of news!”

Mr. Domini stood with Danton’s enormous portrait behind him and laughed aloud. “Our son, our son we are so proud of, has fixed himself forever in the state closest to perfection!”

“Was it truly necessary to go that far?” Kalen swallowed. “I had heard that blood amber symbolizes perfection. I thought it would be enough simply to collect more of it…”

“The commoners must have misled you.”

Madam Domini smiled in a reserved way, with a faint touch of contempt mixed in.

“Oh, those poor things.” She elegantly lifted her teacup and took a sip. “All they can do is scrimp and save to buy some blood amber, then collect a few trifling little objects so they can pretend to be refined. Their minds can hold nothing more than that.”

“Believe me, true perfection isn’t something built on piles of money.” Mr. Domini said this with growing enthusiasm. “There is much more to consider. The size and setting of the blood amber, the reputation of the jewelry designer, how fashionable the combination is… and above all, the wearer must be flawless.”

“In other words, someone as outstanding as Mr. Danton,” Kalen said with a forced smile.

“Exactly. Whether outwardly or inwardly, we must not have even the slightest flaw.”

The Dominic couple spoke in unison, as though using the same tongue.

“One must never miss the newest fashions, never make the slightest mistake, never let even the smallest scandal erupt, never possess second-rate goods that don’t match one’s status. Even one’s private interests must be of the highest elegance, the sort no one can criticize.”

Father Kalen looked silently toward the portrait of Danton Domini.

The dead man in the portrait still smiled, draped in countless dazzling blood amber jewels.

“…In short, those who refuse to correct flaws have no right to earn respect.”

The old couple’s tone was filled with absolute conviction, like the most innocent and moral souls in the world, or else like judges filled with righteous indignation.

“An imperfect background can be compensated for through superior artistic taste. An imperfect appearance can be adorned with more beautiful blood amber jewelry. If one fears one’s conduct isn’t perfect enough, one only has to remain careful at all times… What’s difficult about that?”

Then the two of them even began discussing examples on the spot.

They went from, “A certain noble lady’s grandfather’s former wife was a fraud, so she has no right to claim that her family upbringing is excellent,” to, “A certain gentleman’s neighbor got drunk and injured someone, and since that gentleman once invited the neighbor to dine at his house, his own morals must also be rotten.”

When they reached the point of, “In the capital’s social circles, calling a handkerchief a ‘rag’ is terribly vulgar and rude,” Kalen finally couldn’t listen any longer.

“I heard you abandoned a cat,” he said despite himself.

The old couple’s faces changed at once. The look on them was one of sheer panic and helplessness, the kind ordinary parents would wear upon hearing news of their son’s death.

“H-how did you know that?”

Mr. Domini stammered, tears springing into his eyes. “N-no, that’s not right, we didn’t abandon it… We gave it to a servant! Yes, that’s right, the servant lost it!”

“You must have been mistaken. The cat we used to keep was completely ordinary, and there are as many lookalikes as one could want.”

Madam Domini was putting on a show of composure, but her voice trembled slightly. “Please don’t spread such rumors. That would be a terribly grave slander against us.”

Kalen rose to his feet. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”

Madam Domini cast a look toward the servant, and the servant swiftly removed the silver tray bearing the ring. Clearly, as an imperfect guest, Father Kalen wasn’t worthy of receiving that ring, symbol of perfection.

A few seconds after he left the house, frightened shouting rose up inside the residence.

Father Kalen thought for a moment and reached toward his communicator.

But just before he activated it, it rang on its own.

“Hey, Talen.”

Myss’s voice came through the device. He was speaking very quietly, and there was some noise in the background, as though he were in a public dining hall or somewhere similar.

“It’s Kalen,” Father Kalen corrected him patiently. “I was just about to contact you myself, Mr. Myss.”

“Then your business can wait. Your Grandma Black Cat finished probing things out, but I can’t understand what she’s saying.”

The next moment, a hoarse, scratchy series of meows came through the communicator.

“…That’s what she said.” After the cat had finished meowing, Myss took the communicator back.

“She says the rule for the Divine Realm is simple: once you enter the employees’ work area, you can’t leave again,” Kalen said. “She also says the lunch meatballs were pretty good, and you should take more.”

“Oh.” Myss responded. “How many cats do you still have on your side? I mean, what’s the most you can gather?”

“Miss Claws can mobilize about six hundred. Why?”

“That’s a bit too few…” Myss fell into thought.

Seeing that Myss was silent for a long time, Father Kalen took a breath and explained everything that had just happened, from the fact that he couldn’t remove blood amber from the outside, to the turmoil during his second visit to Danton’s house.

“The nobles who died in such strange ways likely died for the same reason as Mr. Danton.”

He summarized, “Under the influence of a high concentration of divine power, the nobles’ pursuit of ‘perfection’ has become pathological. The moment they find a flaw in themselves, they are thrown into enormous panic.”

“Once they realize that they can ‘never again attain perfection,’ they are likely to end themselves. If possible, the two of you should avoid provoking those—”

“Well, six hundred cats should suffice,” Myss said. “Your findings are quite good, Kalo.”

“It’s Kalen,” Father Kalen said, sounding bewildered.

“Tomorrow at three in the afternoon, send all six hundred cats in,” Myss said. “Grandma Black Cat will go receive them. She knows a very hidden entrance.”

“As for the rest of the plan, I’ll have Cinnamon relay it. The cats only need to follow my instructions. Don’t worry, I’ll guarantee their safety.”

“…What exactly are you planning to do?”

“Steal Salaar’s heart back.”

Kalen: “Huh???”

Before he could ask anything further, the call was cut off.

The Red Amber, a corner of the public dining hall.

Using “getting a drink” as an excuse, Myss crouched behind a tall potted plant. Fork stood lookout for him. “That especially annoying Salaar is still sitting over there eating.”

Myss stroked the faintly vibrating badge.

He had just finished talking with Kalen, and “Salaar” had done nothing. Which meant this incoming communication request…

Myss activated the magic device.

“Who is this?” His heart clenched with a sort of expectation.

“It is I, your ever-haunting shadow.”

A thin, reedy voice spoke. The sound was blurred and weak, but Myss would never mistake it.

“The fact that you actually didn’t start doubting yourself… Impressive,” snake-Salaar continued in that infuriating tone.

“…Not having me by your side—hasn’t it been hard to get used to, Lord Myss?”

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The author has something to say:

The king of cats is about to charge out with his cat army! [waving][cat paw][cat paw][cat paw]

An upgraded deluxe version of “then nobody gets to sleep” (not really)

And besides, how could the Great Hero’s heart possibly just sit there waiting to be rescued? [Ok!]

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