"You can't come back crying." This was the only condition Silva had set.
Yes, it was a reasonable demand.
Möhlers lowered her head in acceptance.
The Zoldycks were the world's number one assassin family, known by onlookers as "legends" and "monsters." Although Möhlers was considered a lunatic by the family, and Silva didn't expect her to bring honor to the family, outside, as the "eldest daughter of the Zoldyck family" and an adult, it was simply unacceptable to come home crying over some man. It would tarnish the Zoldycks' illustrious reputation.
As the head of the Zoldyck family, Silva Zoldyck naturally had to correct this.
...It was too embarrassing.
When she was a child, she was ignorant and her crying was understandable.
But Möhlers Zoldyck, now an adult, could not cry.
Crying was a privilege only for children.
She wished she could remain a child forever. After all, she couldn't become the excellent adult she wanted to be when she grew up.
It was fine; in the "real world," Möhlers would hold back her tears in front of her mother.
Well, unless she really couldn't help it...
I will hold back. Möhlers clenched her hands.
No parent likes a gloomy, crybaby child; this was the same principle everywhere.
"No, Möl, you can come here," Kikyo extended her hand towards Möhlers, palm up. "Good girl, come to Mommy, you can do whatever you want."
Her tone was soft, as if coaxing a child.
Möhlers knew that she had become an adult long ago. The years in both worlds combined were enough for her to be Silva's contemporary. No, Silva could even call her "older sister."
However, living longer didn't necessarily mean greater wisdom. She always lacked improvement, had poor learning abilities, and rigid thinking. Someone like her, who was accustomed to going with the flow and was utterly mediocre, would never achieve much no matter how long she lived.
Her only advantage was accumulated experience, which made Möhlers understand that choosing Kikyo meant choosing comfortable degradation. If she was willing to abandon thinking, Kikyo's meticulous embrace would become the warmest cradle.
That would be no different from "death," wouldn't it?
"..."
Möhlers leaned forward, seemingly choosing Kikyo. The light in Kikyo's electronic eyes flickered with excitement, and her body tensed in preparation for acceptance. However, Möhlers took a step back with her right foot, her shoe landing softly. Her waist-length, silver-white, slightly curly hair swayed, leaving only her back to Kikyo.
There were many forms of "death." Möhlers had already experienced enough of the "walking dead" kind in the "real world." Moreover, she still had unfinished business.
As if to reward her choice, before she exited the Zoldyck main residence, which resembled a giant three-dimensional labyrinth, she encountered the cutest cat on Kukuroo Mountain—Alluka.
The silver-white Alluka was exceptionally striking against the dark corridor background.
This was not a chance encounter. Alluka looked up, his slightly longer hair covering his nape. His large cat-like eyes were a pure blue, hiding a hint of curiosity. He was curious about the secret between his sister and mother, but he also sensed danger, so he wouldn't ask directly, choosing to observe first.
"Is Sister going out again?" For Alluka, the conversations his parents and brothers had with him were almost always about his training or missions. Thus, Alluka had implicitly adopted such topics as the safest choice. "Do you have a lot of work? You seem busier than Dad and Brother."
According to others in the Zoldyck family, their sister had mental problems. Therefore, assigning a large number of assassination jobs to her didn't make sense.
Möhlers squatted down and, with great enjoyment, ruffled Alluka's soft silver hair. After finishing, she didn't answer Alluka's question. Instead, she placed a bag of snacks from her game backpack into his hands, gave him a smile, and then stood up and left.
"..." Alluka inexplicably felt that the snacks in his hands were like payment for being petted.
Oh well, they were quite delicious.
As he ate heartily, his cheeks became plump, like a hamster.
As a result, when Kikyo later asked what he had talked about with Möhlers, he had to spend a little more time swallowing the snacks before answering, "Nothing. Sister didn't say anything."
Alluka had always found it difficult to understand the relationship between his sister and mother. Their relationship seemed good because he often saw them spending time alone together, but their relationship also seemed not so good, as their evaluations of each other were always evasive, containing a certain incomprehensible deliberate avoidance.
Now, the second nature was becoming more and more apparent. Alluka thought that it was likely for this reason that his sister chose to work outside for extended periods to reduce her time at home.
Alluka had no clue about the reasons for the change in circumstances. In his memory, Möhlers was always the most mysterious family member, second only to his rarely seen great-grandfather, Maha.
Due to Alluka's outstanding talent within the family, the Zoldycks always paid close attention to his "studies," except for Möhlers.
Möhlers, like Maha, had always remained detached from the situation. When she appeared, she would mostly just pat his head and give him snacks or toys. Furthermore, they both remained silent. The latter was because he was naturally taciturn, while Möhlers was born without vocal cords and was unwilling to speak using a "voice device."
Sister was quiet. On the surface, there were no signs of mental issues. This was until Alluka saw her mistake his tall and thin older brother for the fat and clumsy second brother, saw her imagine a non-existent younger brother named "Kalluto," saw her slap her older brother, and saw her undergo brain surgery.
Wait, the incident of slapping her older brother was quite satisfying to recall now; it was something Alluka couldn't even imagine in his dreams.
Older brother was the most terrifying existence for Alluka in the Zoldyck household. When he exuded oppressive pressure, he often made Alluka unable to breathe.
He couldn't help but recall another chilling moment of his older brother's that had nothing to do with him. Once, he saw the look in his older brother's eyes when he looked at his sister. Although his experience was too shallow to read its meaning and distinguish whether it was malice, he instinctively felt a chill.
He had once overheard his older brother talking about his sister with other family members. His older brother said, "She really likes Alluka, and she also likes the cats she keeps, then she killed all those cats... Remember that hawk? In her eyes, 'family' and 'pets' are the same."
"...Little Allu." His older brother had called him that then.
So he didn't continue eavesdropping. Later, he realized that he had been discovered from the beginning. Did his older brother, or rather, did they, want him to know something? Did they want him to know that his sister might kill him? Just like killing a pet? Was his sister's attitude towards him abnormal? Was that hawk referring to "New Orleans"?
At this moment, it was Kikyo who called him.
Alluka snapped back to attention. Kikyo had given up chasing Möhlers and was urging him to train.
More training, training all day long, it was so boring, so annoying.
Saying this aloud would only draw Kikyo's nagging. Alluka gave a perfunctory "oh," wisely shut his mouth, and walked towards the training grounds.
At the same time, Möhlers had already left the Zoldyck main residence and was walking down the path leading down the mountain.
The whistle necklace hidden inside her clothes was pulled out by her, dangling on her chest, reflecting a dazzling silver-white in the sunlight. New Orleans followed the whistle's command, flying low. The shadow of its wings fell on Möhlers' shoulders, as if cloaking her in a black veil.
Möhlers suddenly turned her head.
The ancient, vast Zoldyck main residence, which merged with Kukuroo Mountain, entered her field of vision. She smiled, turned her head, her back to the main residence, and her steps became lighter, as if stepping on piano scales, the rhythm matching a favorite melody from the "real world" that she had casually recalled. However, in areas guarded by butlers, she would revert to a steady pace.
These days, Kikyo hadn't been noisy; she had been so, so gentle. Although she was a one-time mother, it felt like she finally had a mother.
Beautiful, wealthy, thoughtful, doting, what an... ideal mother.
Möhlers lowered her head and chuckled silently for a moment. When she raised her face, her expression had become somber, her face returning to its usual blankness.
...Goodbye.
She pushed open the Gate of Trials, straightened her back, concealed her aura, hid all her sharpness, and walked out.
To give Shalnark a "surprise," she had spent nearly a month and finally seized the opportunity she wanted. Mastering Shalnark's whereabouts was the simplest part. Earlier, during Möhlers' attempt to excavate "love" feelings from Shalnark, Shalnark had "voluntarily" shared his mobile phone's location information with her.
The sharing was one-sided, but Shalnark understood this unequal treaty. He knew Möhlers needed it to gain a sense of security. Shalnark believed he had nothing to hide, so sharing his real-time location information during their relationship was not a problem. Besides, didn't this signify that Möhlers was starting to pay special attention to him? After all, Möhlers had previously been indifferent to any of his personal information.
Unless an accident occurred, Shalnark was someone who carried his phone with him at all times. Mobile chargers and spare batteries were also essential items, and he never let his phone's battery drop below 50%.
His phone was almost equivalent to his vitality. If his call wasn't answered, it was highly probable that something had happened to him.
Shalnark's phone was practically a "Life Card" from Hunter x Hunter.
Therefore, within the Phantom Troupe, an extremely evil criminal organization with a loose structure, a free-spirited style, and frequent disappearances, Shalnark was the most reliable member. There was basically no need to worry about not being able to contact him.
From Möhlers' perspective, there was basically no need to worry about losing Shalnark's location information.
Outside of the Troupe's activities, Shalnark, as a technical support personnel, was considered a relatively harmless type within the extremely evil criminal organization Phantom Troupe. Unlike some of the Troupe members who "disregarded the basic function of money and simply robbed whatever they wanted," Shalnark, in most cases, would follow common societal rules and choose to pay for goods or services. Therefore, over the past month, Möhlers had discovered that Shalnark had only committed one robbery. If one were to overlook Shalnark's online crimes, he could probably be called a "law-abiding citizen."
That day was a fine, sunny day. Möhlers texted Shalnark away, leaving only Feitan, who was there to play games, inside.
Despite the game sound effects playing at full volume and filling his ears, Feitan could still distinguish the subtle sound from the lock mechanism at the door, which wasn't the sound of a key being inserted. Feitan ignored this, his fast finger-tapping on the game controller unchanged.
There was nothing worth paying attention to. No matter who came, if they were trouble, he would simply deal with them.
Feitan's gaze remained fixed on the game screen until the uninvited guest walked beside him. However, his body relaxed slightly, as he recognized the person's aura and knew the visitor was a Spider (comrade).
This subtle shift from tension to slight relaxation was barely perceptible. To an ordinary observer, Feitan seemed engrossed in the game and thus didn't notice someone entering. Moreover, Feitan wasn't wearing his cloak today; his attire was casual and loose, a short-sleeved t-shirt and trousers. His messy, spiky hair indicated his rebelliousness. Coupled with his petite frame, he resembled an ordinary middle school boy in his "chuunibyou" phase, engrossed in gaming.
Ahem, in reality, Feitan was not only an adult but also a member of the criminal organization "Phantom Troupe," which had recently gained worldwide notoriety for the massacre of the Kurta clan, with his bounty level rising to A-class.
As the saying goes, fame is like fat for a pig.
Now that the Phantom Troupe was in the spotlight, countless "Hunters" worldwide were sharpening their skills. The Troupe wasn't powerful enough to confront the entire world head-on, so there would be no Troupe activities in the near future.
Scattered across different locations, most active Troupe members didn't want to stir up too much trouble. As for the few warlike members, they had grown tired of killing those who came sniffing for trouble and had chosen to rest.
Feitan was one of those who wanted to rest. Even if a robber broke in right now, as long as they didn't provoke him and disturb his gaming, he wouldn't bother to act. As for the other things in the house, they could steal whatever they wanted. After all, this house wasn't his, and it didn't seem to be Shalnark's either.
In any case, it had nothing to do with him. He was never a helpful person, so he wouldn't proactively greet the visitor by saying, "Shalnark has temporarily gone out on business," or anything similar. He just continued playing his game silently.
Until the visitor overstepped, even getting excessively close, their breath warming his ear, Feitan finally spoke with no emotion, "Is there something?"
This attitude was considered relatively good. If the person's actions blocked the game screen, he would have more impolitely ordered them to "get lost."
Feitan's game character successfully entered the next level, a game map with a darker color palette. Whether it was the clearer reflection of the indoor scene on the screen or the insufficient clarity of the game footage on the screen, Feitan squinted slightly.
In the game footage on the screen, Feitan's character moved nimbly, dodging and attacking enemies that appeared sporadically.
In the indoor reflection on the screen, a figure appeared behind Feitan. The predominantly white figure was like a ghost, clinging to his shoulder, its arms also wrapped around his shoulders.
Although the aura and touch felt undeniably real, Feitan calmly thought that there might be something wrong with this woman.
Without any superfluous thoughts, Feitan felt it was absurd and laughable.
Indeed, he had long surpassed the weak stage of needing to suppress desires. Now, if he had a desire, he would fulfill it. But to regard him as the kind of person swayed by desire, easily losing judgment and determination, was an underestimation.
He hated being lied to and hated being fooled.
The situation remained in a stalemate for a while. The human-shaped pendant behind him exhaled a breath, blowing past his ear. It didn't sound like provocation, but rather like the firming of some resolve—Feitan, as an interrogation expert, could distinguish the difference.
"Feitan." The voice, mixed with a mechanical sound, was produced with the help of a voice device.
"..."
"You were right."
"..."
"Shalnark can't satisfy me. Can you satisfy me?"
Heh.
In the game footage on the screen, Feitan's character continuously defeated enemies, and the kill count displayed in the upper left corner of the screen steadily increased.
In the indoor reflection on the screen, Feitan remained unmoved, not even a flicker of his eyebrows.
The other person hugged him tighter. Feitan could feel her soft parts pressing against his back.
But so what? It was too low-level.
Feitan continued to stare at the game screen, steadily tapping his controller.
The person buried their forehead in the crook of his neck and said in a low voice through the voice device, "Shall we, Feitan?"
But so what? It was uninteresting.
Feitan continued to stare at the game screen, steadily tapping his controller.
"Shut up," Feitan replied coldly. "Don't disturb my game."
He didn't chase the woman away directly. He just wanted to see what other tricks she had up her sleeve. After all, he was bored, and a little more entertainment in his life wouldn't hurt.
No wonder this woman wasn't dressed so conservatively today; both her fair arms were exposed. He really wanted to hear the sound of them breaking.
Feitan maliciously imagined his game character jumping onto a high platform, running, and firing at enemies below.
The other person let go of Feitan and took a step to the side. However, instead of leaving in anger, her next move was to pick up another game controller from the ground.
A useful piece of information: all single-player games can be paused.
The paused game screen flashed only in Feitan's eyes for a moment. The next moment, the screen was obscured by another figure. Due to the significant height difference between sitting and standing, Feitan, feeling looked down upon, raised his eyes displeasedly, fixing his gaze on the other person, sharp as fangs ready to bite their neck.
Before he could speak, the other person's figure suddenly collapsed.
What posture was lower than sitting?
It was crawling.
Feitan frowned.
Although he was not unfamiliar with this posture, and sometimes it was a submissive stance he was very happy to see, he also thought that since the other person could perform this action so easily, it meant the other person had done it before.
Feitan recalled that it was about ten years ago, on a certain day, when he first saw the other person outside Meteor City. It was through a glass display case, a delicate yet empty doll.
A false expression, a feigned gesture.
So many years had passed, and the doll had been thoroughly modified (brainwashed) by its so-called "family."
Family? Disgusting.
What was this now?
Was she showing him the brand of mental obedience?
Anger, like that of a beast returning to its nest to find it in disarray, spread from his heart.
If Feitan's current mood could be calculated with specific numerical values, it would be a sharp decline, dropping below zero.
The other person crawled to him on all fours, but instead of lowering themselves further, they used their arms to support their body, assuming a slightly higher angle, almost nose-to-nose, and met Feitan's gaze.
Despite such intimate contact, neither of them made any further moves, nor could it be called "flirting." It was more like observing each other at close range.
Compared to Feitan's early memories, the other person had clearly been taken better care of and was no longer so thin, but the indentation at her collarbone was still very noticeable, allowing the shape of that bone to be easily discerned.
Above that, her snow-white, slender neck was enough to evoke Feitan's desire to grip it.
Upwards, and further upwards.
Feitan disliked eyes lacking brightness because the pleasure of violence lay in the process of destruction.
Very displeased, in a way, the other person had already been broken by someone else.
Moreover, the other person had chosen Shalnark over him. When he was in a bad mood and recalled the Troupe's activities, the sight of the other person and Shalnark dangling in front of him caused his long-suppressed emotions to subtly edge towards madness.
If the other person were not a Spider (comrade), he would have killed them, and then he would have been "the last man in Möhlers' life."
The slowly rising killing intent caused Feitan's lips to curl into a smile.
If he couldn't possess her while she was alive, he wouldn't mind possessing her after death.
Both of them moved simultaneously. Feitan raised a hand, and Möhlers lowered her head, biting off Feitan's... controller connection cable.
...He had been played.
His dark gold pupils contracted sharply due to the surge of negative emotions. Feitan immediately entered combat mode, and the game controller was crushed in his hand. His eyes were burning, but his voice dropped to freezing point as he bit out the other person's name, filled with killing intent, "Möhlers, you're asking for death."