Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 51: The Second Commission
The instant the heart stopped beating, the whole world seemed to freeze inside amber.
The Perfected Creation’s movements locked in midair. Its collections also stopped at the exact same moment, like puppets whose joints had suddenly rusted shut. It couldn’t even be called “death.” It was more like a pocket watch that had lost its spring.
In a flash, Myss tore the black gauze from the Perfected Creation’s chest and fished a heart out of the sea of flesh. The Perfected Creation’s magic cycle had been severed, and the blood amber had no time to repair the damage.
The heart flew out of its chest.
As the heart of a god, it looked fragile and soft, no different from an ordinary human heart.
Having lost its core, the Perfected Creation immediately lost a layer of radiance. As the divine power faded, its skin turned into stiff gel-like matter, and its eyes reflected only a dry, hard sheen. From inside its chest came a steady string of tiny cracking sounds.
As for the collections around it, they became marionettes whose strings had been cut. Unable to keep their balance, they fell rigidly to the floor like corpses. Their Magibase scattered like dew, leaving not the slightest trace behind.
Myss’s eyes swept over the room again. Only Antis and Iver were still standing.
The Perfected Creation’s core hadn’t vanished yet. Residual divine power was still struggling to gather the two men’s Magibase and bind them in place.
Myss spread out his hand. The heart twitched faintly in his palm like a dying hatchling.
As long as he destroyed this heart, the Perfected Creation would never be able to recover. All he had to do was apply a little force and put an end to all this chaos and pain…
“W-wait.” Tass suddenly threw himself over and clutched Myss’s fingers. “I… He…”
The Dragon Fae seemed to want to stall for a moment. He looked at Myss pleadingly, yet he himself didn’t seem to know what he was begging for.
Beside Myss, Salaar let out a soft sigh.
He wrapped his hands in golden light and carefully took the heart away. Myss shot him an annoyed look, only to see the Hero walk up to Anti’s living specimen, float the lump of flesh in midair, and clasp his hands before his chest.
Salaar closed his eyes and began reciting those obscure incantations again. Several strands of golden light extended out of the flesh, circling Anti’s specimen.
A layer of golden light appeared in the living specimen’s eyes, and its body moved with difficulty.
“Tass… Sir…” Mr. Anti opened his mouth. His voice was stiff and dry.
“Tass, I suspect you still have something you want to say.”
Salaar didn’t turn around.
His tone was gentle, yet he still kept the lump of flesh firmly under his control instead of handing it over to Anti.
“What we have here is the existence closest to Antis Crosien. The remains of a living body, the remnants of a specimen’s Magibase, plus the lingering spiritual imprint in the heart.”
The instant he finished speaking, the Dragon Fae shot out like a cannonball. He turned his body into a fist and punched Anti hard in the face.
“You ass—one in a thousand—stubborn mule!” his tiny body shrieked. “Idiot! Moron! Thick-skulled bastard!”
“…”
Mr. Anti didn’t dodge. He slowly turned his stone eyes, and grief gradually covered his face.
“You’re already in this horrible state. Why didn’t you write to me? Why didn’t you ask me for help? You pathetic little wretch who never got weaned, you understand nothing!”
Tass’s voice took on a sobbing edge. “Wasn’t I your friend? At least once, I was your friend!”
“I’m sorry, Tass.” Mr. Anti said slowly, “We… were always friends…”
“You’re finally awake!” Tass yanked hard at his hair. “Damn it, you should apologize to everyone in this city. Do you know how much trouble you caused? Do you know—”
Anti gently nodded.
He slowly turned his stone-crafted eyes and looked with deep longing at the nearby painting, as though the figure in the painting was not himself, but the smiling Iver.
Like an infant touching the ground for the first time, Anti tried lifting one foot, then fell heavily to the floor.
His exquisite top hat fell off. His spotless formalwear was smeared with dirt. Several buttons were torn loose. Yet Anti didn’t seem to notice at all. He struggled back up and kept moving toward the painting, as though it were the only exit from hell.
The few short steps were incredibly difficult.
At last, his fingertip touched the painting. Just as Myss thought he was about to take it away, Anti’s finger suddenly jerked back as though the warm wood had burned him.
Then he wiped his hand again and again on his suit, staying silent for a long while.
In the end, he only lightly kissed the little paper card hanging from the frame, as though he were kissing a lover’s hand.
“Enough! This isn’t the time for that!” Tass cried out anxiously. “You made a terrible mistake, hear me? You have to correct it. You have to atone! You—even if you’re only an incomplete version of yourself—you still have to fix all this!”
“The Perfected Creation could go on living like this, and so can you. Listen, these two are both extremely powerful with magic. If you—”
Mr. Anti finally turned his gaze. His eyes were far dimmer than before. Yet at that moment, they brimmed with vivid self-blame, regret, and fulfillment.
The only thing missing was pain.
“Not every mistake can be erased with money and apologies.” Anti said with difficulty. “I’m not a child anymore, Tass. I must pay the price for my choices. I must answer for those innocent lives lost…”
Tass abruptly flew a little farther away, as though he had realized something. His breathing quickened.
“I am Antis Crosien. I wish to hire you, the ‘Tass Ga the Unfailing’.” Anti said, “I will pay you with all my property. My funds are quite sufficient.”
His tone was astonishingly firm, as though he were speaking of a mission carved into fate itself, or speaking of his utterly wicked father.
Tass’s voice trembled. “You know my standards. I don’t take just any job…”
“I know.” Anti showed a clumsy smile that came sincerely from the heart. “Actually, I fit your standards. You know that.”
“The Perfected Creation killed far too many people, and it nearly killed you too. Every drop of blood you saw is undeniable proof.”
The Dragon Fae fell silent.
He circled in the air for a while, then lightly landed on Anti’s shoulder.
Tass originally meant to punch Anti in the face again. He even raised his arm. But in the end, he only gave Anti a slap that was neither light nor heavy.
The touch was as rigid and as cold as a specimen.
In truth, he knew from the start that there had never been much room for this to turn out otherwise. Salaar had only returned Anti’s spiritual imprint to his body. Aside from that, he had not done any healing at all.
He knew as well that he had never truly expected Antis Crosien to immediately repent and beg for forgiveness… He simply… Perhaps he had merely wanted to say a proper goodbye to his friend.
“Can’t you do it yourself?” Tass sniffed, his wings drooping limply. “What, even now you still have to strive for perfection?”
“No. I am only a fragmentary will. I cannot actively terminate the Perfected Creation’s magic.” Anti lowered his eyes and gave a bitter smile. “And you know better than anyone what counts as an execution, and what counts as a farewell.”
Myss was a little surprised.
They all knew that Iver’s Magibase still remained. Maybe a little of his consciousness could be restored as well. Myss had assumed that once Anti regained his senses, he would try everything possible to wake Iver too. But Anti hadn’t mentioned him even once.
Strangely enough, at this moment Anti reminded Myss of Iver at the moment of parting.
Even he could tell that Anti’s expression was too calm.
But it was not the despairing calm of someone giving up on life and walking to death. Even compared to the human Anti in those memories, Anti had never looked this… alive before. It was like new shoots sprouting from a cracked tree stump.
As he looked at the sun-soaked painting, his face held the same vitality as a baby opening its eyes for the first time. There was no question that Antis Crosien wanted to live, even in this ridiculous form.
And yet Anti said he would bid farewell to his friend and go on to die.
Myss couldn’t understand such an absurd contradiction.
So he instinctively looked at Salaar, the human he knew with the strongest will to survive. He had expected to see puzzlement on Salaar’s face, or his usual calm, or perhaps detached indifference.
Instead, he saw understanding.
Salaar understood this. Even the Dragon Fae seemed able to understand it.
“I understand.” Tass Gia said, “I’ll take this commission. I’ll also spend every last bit of your fortune.”
He paused and sneaked a glance at Iver’s living specimen. “…But have you really thought this through, Antis?”
“To be honest, this is harder than I imagined.” Anti said softly, as though answering some far-off question. “But I cannot break my own rule anymore… I cannot use humans as specimens anymore, least of all the person I love.”
“Yeah. You should have remembered that sooner. I already told you that was a good rule.”
The Dragon Fae slowly flew closer. His voice was so dry it almost cracked. “So this is the end, Antis Crosien.”
“Yes.”
“Is there anything else you want to say?” Tass asked quietly, in a tone more solemn than ever before.
“This painting. Please keep this painting. Don’t sell it.” Anti said, sounding like a friend about to leave on a journey. “Oh, and remember to feed Pinecone on time.”
“Of course. Since they’ll become my property, and you know how much I love money.”
The Dragon Fae said. “…Anything else?”
At last, Anti let go of the little card, as though releasing a lover’s warm hand.
He moved on stiff steps toward Iver’s living specimen, which still stood frozen by the door, and gently drew it into his arms.
Then he lightly kissed its forehead.
“…Let us rot together in ugliness,” he replied tenderly.
Neither of them said goodbye.
The Dragon Fae’s magic flared forth. Dozens of emerald needles pierced Anti’s body, instantly destroying the key nodes in the magical circuit.
Anti’s living specimen remained standing there, with almost no visible external damage.
He held his departed beloved in his arms, his expression fixed in profound regret and remorse, along with the faintest trace of happiness.
Their Magibase completely dispersed. The malformed heart stopped twitching. Only the portion corrupted by the Abnormal Fruit continued writhing futilely.
In the shadows, it was neither as bright as the painting nor as alive as the painting.
Outside the narrow window, a small bird darted lightly past.
……
Without a spiritual imprint to drive it, the core designed by Anti could no longer function properly. Myss easily annihilated the Perfected Creation’s shell, along with the heart portion of the Abnormal Fruit.
He also took care of all those obstructive living specimens, leaving only the bodies of Anti and Iver. Naturally, that was only because the Dragon Fae had insisted quite strongly.
Unexpectedly, the annihilation of the Perfected Creation didn’t cause much of a disturbance.
Perhaps because no one had ever considered leaving, hardly anyone noticed that the Divine Realm was collapsing.
People tacitly forgot the frenzied atmosphere from before. When they spoke of those absurd deaths again, there was only regret in their voices. And when they looked at one another, there was a little less scrutiny in their eyes, and a little more ease.
As for the “absence” of Antis and Iver, it caused less of a stir than the disappearance of the twins. People kept speculating about where they had gone, and all kinds of theories turned into a chaotic mess.
It seemed as though everything had changed, yet at the same time as though nothing had.
Of course, Myss had no time to fuss over such trivial matters. At the moment he was happily clutching the Abnormal Fruit and refusing to let go, his mouth glowing with emotion.
“I’m very sorry. This time I did not help much.”
Father Kalen sat in their room. At his feet crouched Cinnamon, Apple, and Butter, while on his shoulders perched Miss Claws and Grandma Black Cat. Once the Divine Realm vanished, the cats had looted the cafeteria, tails held high as they fled.
“If not for the cats’ help, there’s no telling how many employees we would have had to deal with,” Salaar said sincerely. “How are things outside?”
“People are no longer quite so fanatical. They’re much more relaxed in how they behave. I only said I wanted to visit friends, showed my papers, and the Red Amber let me in.”
Father Kalen said. “Some people are looking for pets they claim to have ‘accidentally lost.’ As for Danton’s family…”
He paused, then sighed. “That couple nearly cried themselves unconscious. I heard they’re going to hold a grand funeral.”
Cinnamon let out a few meows and hopped up onto the priest’s lap.
“I’ll help you look for your little master,” the priest said, stroking the cat. “But I’m not sure whether he’ll come around. The Perfected Creation’s influence was extremely subtle…”
“Honestly, we’ve already been very lucky.” Salaar poured a cup of tea. “Scintilla’s ‘Fallen Child’ failed to be born properly. Anti’s ‘Perfected Creation’ did take shape, but it never obtained a complete will. The Perfected Creation’s behavior was very simple. It was almost devoid of schemes.”
“If Mr. Iver had accepted the Perfected Creation and become that thing’s ‘mind,’ the situation would have been far more troublesome.”
Father Kalen let out a deep sigh and nodded.
“All right, all right, enough nonsense. Let’s discuss the important business.” Myss swallowed.
Father Kalen nodded in understanding and took out a blood-stained letter. “This was found at Antis’s residence. Sir Tass was a great help…”
“How is that ‘important business’? That paper isn’t going to run away. We can read it anytime.” Myss said unhappily, lifting up his beloved treasure with both hands. “I called you here because of the Abnormal Fruit!”
“My apologies. Go ahead,” Father Kalen said crisply, putting the letter away again.
“I came up with a particularly genius idea.” Myss said, “Our snakes were born from contract magic. So if they eat the Abnormal Fruit, doesn’t that count as contract magic consuming the Abnormal Fruit?”
“This… should count, yes,” the priest said in surprise.
Myss nodded, satisfied. “These two snakes split off from our minds. In a pinch they can act as separate bodies, but they aren’t technically part of us. If one of them actively feeds its magic to me, that doesn’t count as me directly eating the Abnormal Fruit, right?”
Father Kalen: “…”
He had heard of nobles laundering money. He had never heard of divine power from an Abnormal Fruit being laundered this way.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he really couldn’t find any flaw in it. Contract magic was supposed to apply to the parties of the contract. As for where the contract magic drew its power from, that was another question.
“In theory, it should work.”
In the end, Father Kalen pressed at his temples.
“That’s what I thought too.”
Salaar pursed his lips and still symbolically cast a protective barrier.
Because in the very next second, Myss shoved the Abnormal Fruit at Knife and Fork.
“Drain it dry for me,” he ordered the two snakes. “Half each. No more and no less. I’m watching.”
Then he braced both hands on the edge of the table and even rested his chin there as well. His red eyes sparkled. He looked exactly like someone waiting by the stove for a steak to finish cooking.
Knife’s mouth was blocked by the Abnormal Fruit, so it could only glance toward Salaar for help.
“Go ahead,” Salaar said helplessly. “At least he knows enough to split half with us.”
Myss immediately lifted his head and grumbled with displeasure. “I know you too well. If I didn’t split half with you, you’d never let me eat any of it.”
“That is true.”
Salaar looked at the two snakes trying their hardest to consume the Abnormal Fruit. They had both stretched their mouths wide open, each taking half of it, greedily gulping down the magic inside. The sight looked exactly like two plungers stuck together; a sight so unappealing it was painful to look at.
The priest clearly felt it wasn’t a particularly elegant sight either. He coughed twice. “Now that the matter is resolved, why are the two of you still staying here?”
Salaar shrugged. “We already took the money, so we should properly complete the contract. Besides, I need to reclaim ‘The End of the World’ before we leave.”
“And besides… at Anti and Iver’s funeral, surely we cannot let Sir Tass be the only one present. You don’t object, do you, Myss?”
“What did you say? What objection?” Myss was staring at the snakes with complete concentration. “Oh, I want raspberry cream pancakes tomorrow morning.”
Salaar spread his hands at the priest and lifted the corner of his mouth slightly.
That night…
Salaar had only just lain flat in bed when the Archdemon launched himself up from where he stood and landed directly on top of the bed.
He yanked open Salaar’s pajama collar and gave the cushion he hadn’t seen for several days a stern inspection. Then he made a satisfied little sound, rubbed his cheek against the Hero’s chest, and happily closed his eyes.
This time was different from before. Myss flung all four limbs around Salaar like an octopus and hugged him tightly, clearly intending to torment him far beyond imagination all night long.
Salaar patted the heavy body draped across him. Then he realized Lord Myss had already fallen asleep.
Perhaps because he had absorbed too much magic during the day, Myss’s body was hotter than usual, and he was sleeping even more deeply than usual. He lay contently buried in Salaar’s chest, making soft satisfied little sounds as he breathed.
Salaar pondered for a moment, then slowly peeled the Archdemon dumpling off himself and made Myss hug a rolled-up blanket instead.
After finishing all that, he crept out of the room and knocked on a certain door he had been keeping an eye on for quite some time.
“Young Master Karns!”
Truman rubbed his hands together. His face looked stiff, as though he were still caught in the Perfected Creation’s Divine Realm.
“You know why I’ve come,” Salaar said.
“B-because of Mr. Myss…”
Truman’s expression stiffened even further. He stammered for a while, fidgeting nervously. “I couldn’t help it… they were excluding me terribly before, so I could only… only find them a more obvious target…”
“But I never directly said Mr. Myss was a whore! They were the ones who wildly ran with it! …Didn’t you have a conflict with him too? You know that I’ve always taken your side… I’ve always been trying to make up for it…”
“All right, then. No apology. Only excuses.” Salaar’s face remained expressionless. “You knew exactly what you were doing. As for all your attempts to curry favor, they were simply because you were afraid I’d use the power of the Karns family to settle accounts with you later.”
Fine beads of sweat appeared on Truman’s forehead. “I was discourteous. I was discourteous. I sincerely apologize to you, Young Master Karns.”
Salaar sighed. “Myss is not my possession. What good does apologizing to me do?”
Truman froze. His expression shifted from panic to a trace of anger.
“So you came here only to humiliate me and vent anger for your little lover.” He gritted his teeth. “You truly are exactly like the rumors say. You actually want a noble of the capital to bow to someone that low…”
“My attitude is this humble only out of respect for the Karns family! Don’t think that now that you have magic, those filthy things from before have all been forgotten—”
“Mm, I’ve made my decision.” Salaar clapped his hands. “Let’s use plan number two after all.”
“W-what do you mean, plan number two?”
“Plan number one, I gently erase your memories, since I do have a small need for secrecy.”
“Plan number two, I painfully erase your memories, because you were very, very disrespectful toward my target, and caused him a great deal of trouble.”
“Just in time, I need a poor unlucky soul to test something on—”
Salaar extended his left arm, and the flesh lute took shape once more.
The strings were no longer a gentle pale red. They had become clear, translucent dark red, like blood amber.
A brand new melody echoed inside the room.
It was incomparably orderly. Its rhythm resembled the hands of a clock, or a stranger knocking on the door in the middle of the night.
Truman’s legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor. He clutched his head with both hands, tears and snot streaming down his face, his eyes rolling in different directions.
“Spare me! Spare me…”
“I shouldn’t have stolen things, I shouldn’t have said those things, I shouldn’t have stolen things, I shouldn’t have said those things I shouldn’t have stolen I shouldn’t have said those things I shouldn’t have I shouldn’t… no…”
Truman fainted amid horrifying screams, yet Salaar didn’t put away the strings. He only bent down and tapped Truman lightly between the brows with one finger.
When Truman woke again, the “Young Master Karns” and “Myss” in his memories would become some unknown noble called “Kaons” and his companion “Myser,” leaving behind only the faintest impression.
“Mm… now then, which boys were the ones who put the flowerpot shards there…”
Salaar stepped over Truman, who was foaming at the mouth, idly playing with the blood amber strings.
“Can we go back to sleep now, Myss?” From the corner shadows, Fork let out a huge yawn. “That man wasn’t secretly up to anything. He was just taking care of the humans who hurt you.”
“Mm, let’s head back first…”
Myss rubbed his sleepy eyes. The blanket had none of the spring of Salaar’s chest, and none of his warmth either. He had woken up soon enough.
Honestly, compared to those insignificant people being punished, what he needed more was his warm cushion.
Still, getting to see one of Salaar’s new tricks meant the trip hadn’t been wasted. Myss once again confirmed to his satisfaction that “Salaar with a heart” was the least annoying version of Salaar.
…Come to think of it, it was about time for him to sort out his new ability as well.
Myss yawned again and headed toward the bedroom with the little snake.
Tomorrow, they seemed to be attending a secret funeral officiated by Tass, then after that they still had to keep staying at the Red Amber… Speaking of which, when exactly was Salaar going to finish that Perfect Love painting?
He found himself a little curious what it would look like in the end.
The author has something to say:
It’s here!!!
I wasn’t satisfied with the first version I wrote, so I made a last-minute heavy revision. [please][please][please]
I’ll update more tomorrow, waaaah!!!
Kinky Thoughts:
Oh, how heartbroken I am. Why didn’t you give them a good ending Nian Zhong?
This arc was so good but I can’t help feeling so bittersweet about Antis and Iver. They deserve to be together!
<<< || Table of Contents || >>>
Kinky Translations 