Mourls emerged from the bathtub before Feitan had left the residence.
Yesterday's situation was purely mutual torment. All three of them had vented their inner darkness, squeezing and hurting each other, with no one spared.
"Aaaah—" The侠客 (xiá kè), sprawled on the floor in a starfish pose, let out an incredibly weary sigh.
Despite Mourls being the one caught in the crossfire, he, the weak, pathetic, and helpless non-combatant, was still the most severely injured.
When the city gates catch fire, the fish in the moat are sure to suffer.
As if it were a side effect of using his Nen ability "Automatism Mode," his muscles ached intensely. Coupled with the kicks Feitan had intentionally or unintentionally delivered along the way, several of 侠客's bones now throbbed.
"Aaaah—" 侠客 couldn't help but sigh again.
He was practically "dating" with his life.
As the last one to "wake up," 侠客 hadn't encountered either Feitan or Mourls. He only found a large clump of silver-white hair in the bathtub. 侠客 picked up a strand and observed the neat cut, as if severed by a sharp weapon.
This was Mourls' hair, which she always cherished. Her mood must be extremely bad.
Letting the strands of hair slip back into the bathtub, 侠客 calmly took his shower, washed up, and changed clothes. He stepped onto the stairs leading to the second floor, feeling refreshed.
The advantage of a detached villa was its relative independence. The neighbors were far apart, so "a little bit" of noise wouldn't attract them. Even if it did, 侠客 had countless solutions.
Let's put such trivial matters aside. The most pressing issue that needed a solution was the current situation.
"...Mourls." 侠客, with commendable courage, went against the flow and approached the figure on the balcony.
Of course, 侠客 didn't fight unprepared. He had his mobile phone and antenna ready, prepared for his manipulation ability, ready for the worst-case scenario.
Mourls sat on the balcony floor, using a pillow from the second-floor bedroom as a cushion, her back to 侠客.
Having suddenly lost her voluminous, waterfall-like long hair, Mourls' back appeared particularly slender, like a melancholy cat that had been forcibly shaved.
No, at least it wasn't completely shaved; the ends could barely cover her neck.
Below that, between the ends of her hair and the collar of her clothes, was the only skin 侠客 could see. Marks of varying shades of red were imprinted on it.
Fortunately, Feitan had already left.
Both Feitan and Mourls were characters that were difficult to deal with in various senses, and "1+1 was greater than 2."
Taking advantage of Feitan's absence, even though Mourls' aura became increasingly dangerous as 侠客 approached, 侠客 would not easily back down.
If you don't enter the tiger's den, you can't catch its cub.
"...Mourls." 侠客 repeated her name, this time his voice even softer, as if facing a wisp of smoke, where a slightly heavier breath would make it dissipate.
Cautiously maintaining a safe distance, 侠客 gently made a large arc, moving to the front of Mourls. He bent down, put on a tentative smile, and observed her expression, "Mourl?"
侠客's reflection appeared in Mourls' unfeeling blue eyes, like a frozen corpse.
An ordinary person would have been scared away by such a gaze, but 侠客 was a "Spider brain" who had seen much worse. Instead, he found more encouragement and knelt down in front of Mourls.
Before stepping onto the second-floor stairs, 侠客 had already gained some confidence. Because Mourls hadn't left directly like Feitan, her staying meant there was a high probability she was willing to give 侠客 "a chance."
Mourls always exhibited anxiety in "love," and her suspicion stemmed from a lack of security.
侠客 could imagine the method of psychological control that Mourls' educators had used on her – abusive education.
Not only verbal scolding and belittling, but also various forms of physical punishment.
Mourls chose Feitan, wanting to become tattered... but this was different from being a "masochist." She didn't truly enjoy pain. Instead, it was to relive a familiar pattern from the past, return to a "safe zone," and thus alleviate her anxiety.
What she craved was still warmth, affection... Yes, 侠客 was increasingly understanding why Mourls chose him.
Because 侠客 was weaker than her and couldn't hurt her.
Because of 侠客's baby face and approachable demeanor.
However, could 侠客 truly not hurt her at all? The answer was no. She probably knew this herself.
Before 侠客, had she tried even weaker "pets"?
But her sensitivity and suspicion meant that extremely weak "pets" wouldn't last long in her hands.
侠客 was probably the best "pet" she had found so far, and 侠客 could see she was trying exceptionally hard.
Yesterday, her prepared "show" had failed, and 侠客 had done the opposite. She was clearly angry, but she only scratched 侠客's face. Compared to Feitan's kicks, it was so gentle it could drip water.
Poor Mourls, when hurt, she wouldn't "give back to society" like Feitan. Instead, she would endure, endure until she shattered into pieces.
She endured, endured waiting for 侠客 on the second-floor balcony, waiting for 侠客... to appease her, to reassemble her.
Could 侠客 not appease her? Of course, he could. The price would be that those shattered pieces might turn into bullets and riddle 侠客 with holes.
Alas, who was Mourls' educator, leaving such a dangerous weapon for 侠客 to deal with? Regarding this question, after yesterday's battle, 侠客 had a new idea.
...Mother. Was the first word Mourls spoke after gaining the ability to speak really just because "mother" was the easiest pronunciation in the world?
Let's not dwell on that; the current matter was more important.
Kneeling on the floor, 侠客 placed his hands neatly on his knees. Coupled with his bright blonde hair, round-lined emerald green eyes, and his approachable baby face, he looked exceptionally well-behaved.
Moreover, his face was scratched by Mourls, so no matter what expression he made, it carried a hint of humor.
"Mourls, did you cut your hair yourself?" 侠客 paused for a moment. Seeing no response, he took it as acquiescence and continued to probe, "Why? Was it because... your hair got dirty?"
The blue in her eyes deepened slightly, proving 侠客's guess was correct.
"I'm sorry. Although I can't be sure who did it, Feitan would never apologize. It would be easier to kill him within a minute than to get him to apologize—so I'll apologize." 侠客 extended his hand. "And only I know your habits best. Whether it's now or yesterday, I always showered before seeing you."
In short, he shifted the blame as much as possible onto the absent Feitan. This strategy seemed to be effective. 侠客 successfully grasped Mourls' right hand and then pressed Mourls' palm against his cheek, closing his eyes piously and rubbing against it obediently.
"Mourl..." 侠客 closed his eyes and softly spoke her name. "I really like you, so I'll fulfill your wish. Actually, when I saw you playing with Feitan yesterday, I was super—angry, but... I was also a little happy... Do you know why?"
"..." Because you suddenly awakened a special fetish? Yesterday, even the interrogation enthusiast Feitan commented that your interests were a bit perverted, Mourls thought.
侠客 couldn't possibly know what Mourls was thinking at that moment. He continued with one of his preset solutions: "Because this is the first time we've seen the real you since we started dating."
"'Dating' with a mask on isn't 'dating,' it's 'role-playing'," 侠客 opened his eyes, his cheek still resting in Mourls' palm. "Mourls, the 'dating' you want isn't the 'role-playing' kind, is it?"
"If the answer is 'yes,' then I can only say 'I'm sorry' to you again, because..." 侠客 wiped the smile from the corner of his mouth. "Unknowingly... I took the liberty... to get serious first."
"Although it sounds a bit childish, I really want to make you angry."
"People are different. Different living environments, different upbringing, different values, different habits, different likes and dislikes, different personalities... Even identical twins who grow up together aren't exactly the same on the inside, let alone relationships that start from strangers. Especially during close interactions, conflicts are inevitable. Don't you think couples who never argue are fake?" httpδ:/m.kuAisugg.nět
"When I realized you were truly throwing a tantrum with me for the first time, and to that extent, I couldn't help but be happy."
Despite saying "happy," 侠客 had no smile on his face. However, the emotions he had accumulated were piled up in his eyes, making it easy to see the heat in their depths.
"I am a greedy person. Once I reach out, I want everything." 侠客 held the back of Mourls' right hand with one hand and grasped her wrist with the other, his cheek pressed tightly against Mourls' palm, as if holding onto a lifeline, with no intention of letting go. "I want you to cry at me, smile at me, talk to me, get angry at me, be happy with me, be sad with me... I want all of the real you... and your inner thoughts, private life, social relationships, past experiences... I want to know everything, until there are no more secrets."
"Am I too greedy?" 侠客 smiled helplessly. "But I've been patiently restraining myself, not doing those things, because I know you don't like it, so I can only try to make you angry with other things."
During the Phantom Troupe's full-scale hunt for the Kurta clan, Mourls had gone AWOL and disappeared. While investigating her whereabouts, 侠客 had casually killed her "pet"—侠客 confessed this himself.
"This is my personal jealousy, and it has nothing to do with the Troupe." 侠客 looked at Mourls with a slight smile. "You understood the signal I gave you, so you chose someone I couldn't touch, wanting to 'reciprocate' to me, right?"
"Objectively speaking, your choice was indeed excellent, far exceeding my expectations. Feitan is not only someone I cannot touch, but also a companion I often interact with. Every time he appears, he reminds me of you and tortures my jealous heart, pushing me to the brink of madness..." 侠客 exhaled slowly. "But I don't regret it. No matter how many times I redo it, I would do the same."
"Arguing is an unpleasant thing, but arguing is sometimes a way of communication. Through arguments, you can hear the other person's true thoughts and feelings, and learn better ways to get along and communicate."
"I've told you everything I can and cannot say. Whether you accept it or not, no matter what you ultimately choose, I will respect you and acknowledge you, because I like you very much, and this is my sincerity."
侠客 released his hand, pulling his cheek away from the warmth of Mourls' palm.
"..."
"..."
The two looked at each other in silence. After a moment, Mourls seemed to look down with some fatigue, her gaze falling to the ground.
"In a sense, we've evened things out, but I was the one who made the first move. If possible, could I have a little bit of your forgiveness?" 侠客 extended his hand to Mourls for the second time. This time, a spider coin lay in his palm.
Spiders usually have eight legs, and twelve legs is the unique symbol of the Phantom Troupe, so coins imprinted with such spiders were custom-made, special items that each member of the Troupe possessed.
Yesterday, Mourls had lost a "coin toss" game and angrily swallowed the coin. Although a swallowed coin would naturally pass through the digestive tract, Mourls would certainly not want that coin.
"Your coin is lost," 侠客 said. "Can you accept my coin as a compensation?"
Seeing Mourls' lack of reaction, 侠客 added, "Or would you like a new one? That would require a special custom order."
Mourls raised her right hand and took the coin. The next moment, the coin disappeared from her hand—she had used her Nen ability to store items.
Then she grabbed 侠客's wrist, lifted her clothes with her other hand, exposing her abdomen, and pressed 侠客's hand onto her stomach.
"...?" 侠客, not understanding the meaning, looked at Mourls' face.
Unlike 侠客 and Feitan, only Mourls' face had no scars—this was clearly intentional.
Cold on the surface, but wild in private, with only specific people able to see the marks hidden by her clothes—侠客 and Feitan had surprisingly reached a high degree of consensus on this contrasting interest.
With lingering amusement, 侠客 glanced at the finger marks he had left on Mourls' waist and abdomen, suppressing the urge to cover them with his fingers, and didn't act rashly. "Mourl?"
Mourls released the fingers holding her clothes and opened her palm towards 侠客. Two identical spider coins lay in her palm.
"Oh, so you didn't swallow the coin." As a "Spider brain," 侠客's mind worked quickly. While responding, he didn't forget to add slightly exaggerated surprise to his voice. "You tricked me!"
His hand was still on Mourls' stomach. The soft touch made him unable to resist rubbing it.
The slightly cool abdomen, covered by the warm palm, felt quite comfortable, until 侠客 pushed his luck, and Mourls stopped his hand.
"Sorry, sorry." 侠客 withdrew his hand with a smile, shifted his weight, and rested his head on Mourls' lap, tilting his chin up to meet Mourls' eyes. "I'm injured right now, let me lie down for a bit."
"..."
"..."
"Mourls," 侠客 lay with his eyes closed for a while, then spoke softly as if in casual conversation. "I've thought carefully about how to give you a sense of security."
"Life has no script; it's full of uncertainties, unknowns, and surprises."
"What if... we added a progress bar to life?"
侠客 lay on his back, his entire face bathed in light. Mourls looked down, her features cast in shadow.
"As long as it's not the end, there's a chance for reversal. Since the end is near, there's no future to worry about."
"Uncertainty becomes hope and fun; certainty becomes a guarantee of peace."
"Having a progress bar feels wonderful, doesn't it?"
侠客 raised his hands and cupped Mourls' cheeks. "No matter how our 'dating' develops, it will continue until the progress bar is incomplete, and end abruptly when the progress bar reaches its end. Just like finishing a movie, immersing ourselves in the performance before the end, and then scattering separately after it concludes."
"The progress bar will be in your hands. When you leave the Troupe, we'll break up... How about that?"
"..."
"..."
"I understand," 侠客 sat up and kissed Mourls' eyes. "Do you want me to trim the ends of your hair for you, or go to a hair salon?"
"..."
"Okay, I'll go get the scissors."
Snip, snip.
Mourls sat in front of the dressing mirror. 侠客 stood behind her, trimming her hair ends, occasionally smiling at her in the mirror.
"Although it's not professional, I'm among the best in Meteor City."
"Short hair or long hair suits you well."
"Which one is better... hmm, I like both. They each have their own charm."
Mourls covered her neck with her hand. She had put on a vocal device. "...俠客."
"En." After leaving Meteor City, 侠客's hairdressing skills had fallen into disuse for many years. He cut hair slowly, but it could also be understood as having plenty of time. He wanted to maintain the current state and chat more. "What is it?"
"I don't know... how much you like me, nor do I know what it is about me... that makes you like me." Mourls spoke slowly. 侠客 tacitly remained silent, waiting for her to finish. "You don't need to tell me the answer, because... I can't believe it. Even if... there was a way to prove you were telling the truth, I still couldn't believe it... because people's hearts are fickle."
"People's hearts are fickle, yes, that's undeniable," 侠客 agreed.
"Keeping my 'pets' from you... it was indeed my fault. I didn't consider you; it was my oversight. I thought we were just playing around, so... I didn't intend to pursue the matter when you killed my 'pet'..." For Mourls, who was used to being silent, speaking her mind and having long conversations was difficult. She clenched her hands on her knees, took several deep breaths, and then continued, "But you always... always keep reminding me, as if you really want me to discover the truth. I don't know what you're thinking... I... as you wished, I am truly angry. I want to take revenge on you."
"En," 侠客 responded casually. "And then?"
"俠客. Since you've chosen to be serious, chosen... to tell me the truth..." Mourls didn't delve into the topic of revenge to analyze her inner feelings. Instead, she brought up another matter. "I also need to... tell you the truth."
"En." Such a good child.
"I know... my personality is very bad. Some of it... you already know. Hmm, let me get straight to the point." Mourls closed her eyes for a moment, then looked into 侠客's eyes in the mirror. "If... we're playing for real, I won't be able to tolerate... you having other partners besides me."
"That's a basic requirement, isn't it?" 侠客 nodded.
"But... this rule..." Mourls was extremely serious, extremely earnest. "Only applies to you."
Can you accept it? This was the unsaid second half of her question.
Stopping the scissors in his hand, 侠客 chuckled, "Pfft," and responded unequivocally, "No problem. And then?"
"..." Mourls stopped looking at 侠客 in the mirror and looked up at the real 侠客, her eyes filled with confusion.
"Mourls is a good child," 侠客 put the scissors back in his pocket, placed his hand on Mourls' head, and stroked the top of her head. "Isn't this kind of thing quite common? Rules are written by the strong. If the positions were reversed, I'd probably do the same thing."
He casually uttered a super scumbag statement, 侠客.
"To take such a trivial matter seriously, you're too cute, Mourls." 侠客 hugged Mourls from behind, rubbing his cheek against hers, and said with a smile, "Of course, I'm unhappy that I can't have you all to myself, but that's entirely my own problem—who told me I'm not as strong as you?"
Mourls' knowledge increased unnecessarily due to 侠客's "logic of the strong."
Later, Feitan, who also returned, emphasized the unnecessary "logic of the robber" to 侠客.
Feitan stepped onto the window frame from outside. The sunlight was blocked by him behind him, and the elongated shadow in front formed a black line, separating the figures of 侠客 and Mourls.
"俠客." Feitan jumped down from the window frame and questioned with an air of entitlement, "Why are you still here?"
Very good, very righteous. Completely ignoring the objective fact that "俠客 is the owner of the house," a typical "logic of the robber," as expected from the exemplary robber Feitan.
Reasoning with a robber is a joke, but 侠客 was no longer the same as before; he had evolved.
Today, he was the glorious kept man, 侠客!
Is it shameful to be a kept man?
No, not at all.
Not everyone is qualified to eat the food of a kept man; being able to do so is also a skill.
"Afei." Thus, 侠客 put his arm around Mourls' shoulder and formally declared, "This is where we live."
Two against one.
Whether in terms of public opinion or overall strength, the 侠客 side had the advantage.
Feitan's gaze swept over 侠客, then over Mourls, whom 侠客 was holding, and finally locked back onto 侠客.
As if finding it amusing, Feitan tilted his head and let out a short laugh from the depths of his throat, "Heh."
When he turned his face back, the corners of his lips curled up as well. "It'll be more fun this way, I guess."
"I want to live here too," he said, hands in his pockets. "I'll take Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, and you, 侠客, take Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. That's decided."
"...?" x2
侠客 and Mourls looked at each other dumbfounded, then exchanged glances.
Finally, 侠客 spoke, "Afei, are you telling a bad joke?"
"What bad joke?" Feitan gave him a sideways glance. "Do you think I'm Phinks?"
Under Feitan's unexpected and attention-grabbing barrage of direct attacks, 侠客, the "Spider brain," still had the energy to notice aspects beyond Feitan's unusual behavior.
"..." 侠客 vaguely understood what Feitan had been doing during his absence.
Although Feitan was still dressed in black, looking no different from usual at first glance, upon closer inspection, it was actually a trendy style from brand X. He had also cleverly added a few silver chains, perfectly embodying the "Cool Guy" look for hanging out at bars.
His intentions were obvious, no, they were overflowing to a severe degree.
侠客: Save me... this hidden route is too ridiculous!
"Hey, Mourls, which room do you want?" Feitan, having made decisions for everyone without consulting them, openly revealed his intentions further. "I want to live next door to you."
侠客: I'm cracking.jpg