Kurapika once again dreamed of his hometown, a place once filled with laughter and joy, now forever unreachable.
In the hidden forest of the Kurta clan, plants that grew in a spiral shape were ubiquitous. Kurapika learned from a book that this naturally formed spiral was named one of the most beautiful and marvelous geometric figures, often called the "Golden Spiral."
This spiral was so ancient that spiral forms existed in indigenous cultures worldwide, starting from a single point, beginning to rotate, rotating infinitely, with no end.
The number of rotations of the spiral increased, and the patterns became denser. Though merely extending, it seemed to spin automatically, collapsing towards the center point, like a whirlpool formed by quicksand, dragging Kurapika deeper into the earth, further and further from the surface.
Further and further.
Kurapika woke up. The room was still dark; there was still some time before dawn.
What is thought about by day is dreamt of by night. Kurapika truly felt he was falling, both in body and spirit.
Today was the fifth day since Melody had left.
Slipping on a jacket, Kurapika poured himself a glass of water and drank it down. Then, he pressed the cool glass against his forehead to calm his mind.
He absolutely did not want to think of Melody. If he could, he wished Melody would go to hell immediately and disappear forever. But he had underestimated Melody’s capriciousness, not expecting her to be unsatisfied with insulting him and instead creating even greater trouble for him.
Were Melody’s actions truly unpredictable?
Kurapika forced himself to calm down, to recall the parts he least wanted to face, to recall his interactions with Melody, to recall how he endured Melody's insults.
Disgust. Anger. Hatred.
These emotions filled his mind at that time. His reason barely held on, his reactions were completely passive, and he had wanted to kill Melody more than once.
And Melody was not a particularly patient person either.
The first time, Melody said, “Such a cute gasp, just like a girl’s.”
The second time, Melody said, “It’s your turn to take the initiative, Kurapika.”
The third time, Melody said, “You’re not incapable, you’re just unwilling.”
Melody particularly enjoyed tying his tie for him in the morning. The white collar was cinched by a pure black tie, like a collar being fastened.
In the full-length mirror, Melody's arm was around Kurapika’s neck, her lips affectionately pressed against his, while Kurapika’s expression was icy, his fists clenched.
Kurapika believed he had exercised the utmost rationality and forbearance. Recalling it now, he realized that his "patience" had long since exhausted his mental energy and concentration, causing him to often be manipulated by Melody like a fool.
Melody lowered her head and kissed below Kurapika’s eyelids, “Such a cute gasp, just like a girl’s.”
“Get out…” Kurapika’s eyes were bloodshot red, his voice hoarse. His volume rose, almost losing control. “Is that enough? Get out!”
It was completely beyond his expectations. He hadn't anticipated his own lapse to be so rapid, his body not obeying his brain's commands at all. It was like many people who try drugs, believing they can quit at will with self-control, but once they step into the vortex of pleasure, they can never turn back.
He didn’t understand how Melody could so easily control his reactions, as if possessing a remote control where each button corresponded to a different nerve, and pressing it would take effect.
This was a form of torture in another sense. Kurapika felt the pain of gradual corrosion during this process. The silver-white hair that appeared in his vision was like highly toxic mercury. When that silver-white flowed onto his skin, his body couldn't help but tremble.
Pleasure and pain were actually the same; neither could be resisted or eliminated by self-control, only passively endured. Even understanding this, Kurapika still couldn't approach it calmly.
Kurapika could have held the initiative, not enduring Melody's complete control over him, but…
In the end, he fell into a passive state, contrary to his reason.
Hatred was both his driving force and his obstruction. He was too emotional, which led to his successive failures and complete defeat.
Briefly scanning through those chaotic past events in his mind, Kurapika’s memory arrived at the last time he saw Melody, when they attended a banquet together.
After the deaths of the ten highest leaders of the world’s mafia, the "Ten Dons," various factions began civil wars to elect a new leader, seizing or absorbing others, and forming alliances. In simple terms, the essence of this banquet was "factionalism."
To establish a foothold in the mafia world and to clearly understand the situation, Kurapika had to attend such social events without prejudice.
Since Melody had never influenced Kurapika’s work externally, merely acting as a silent ornament… Looking back, Kurapika had to admit his carelessness and naivety.
He didn't recall what Melody wore to the banquet at all; he deliberately avoided paying attention to such insignificant details. He focused on his surroundings, comparing information in his mind, organizing and deducing the relationships between various organizations and individuals. Others were also observing; some were discussing how Kurapika, as a mere new bodyguard, had taken advantage of the situation to become the actual manager of the Nostra family.
He vaguely remembered Melody complaining that she disliked makeup. He didn't understand why Melody complained. He hadn't dictated Melody’s attire; as long as Melody was dressed appropriately, even if she wore her usual work suit without any adornment and attended as his bodyguard, he wouldn't have minded, as long as it didn't hinder his work.
Why did Melody wear makeup? Kurapika recalled that when women attend banquets, makeup is the default etiquette. For Melody, who never wore makeup, choosing to wear it was probably a matter of professional conduct.
“I don’t like rules that one-sidedly demand things from women,” Melody said, linking arms with Kurapika as his banquet companion. “And this banquet is so boring.”
“…” Kurapika just wished she would shut up, so he replied, “I thought you wouldn’t follow the rules.”
“Mm, you’re right,” Melody said.
Kurapika spoke without looking at Melody, unsure of her expression. The next moment, Melody suddenly put her arm around Kurapika’s neck and leaned up to kiss him.
In front of everyone, Kurapika couldn't lose his composure or become a laughingstock. He frowned, enduring and not pushing Melody away. He even placed a hand on her waist.
He tasted the flavor of lip gloss.
Fortunately, Melody didn't seem to intend to truly embarrass him. A few seconds later, she ended the sudden kiss.
“What do you want!” Kurapika’s hand was still on her waist. Their actions appeared to be an involuntary display of affection, but in reality, Kurapika’s voice was full of questioning, stern to the point of reprimand.
“Do you hate me that much?” Melody said softly, as if unable to understand.
Whether her words were genuine or feigned, Kurapika thought anyone who spoke such nonsense was mentally ill.
Kurapika didn't apply force with his hand. With a slight movement, Melody broke free from his embrace and walked directly towards the buffet table. Kurapika stopped in place, watching Melody’s every move.
The buffet on the table remained untouched; everyone was busy networking, and no one thought about eating. Melody was the only one who felt it was a shame, tasting each item.
The foods were all small, meant to be eaten in a single bite.
She concentrated on chewing the ignored food, not doing anything strange. However, after watching for a while, Kurapika felt a bit tired, so he shifted most of his attention to his surroundings, fending off those eager to probe for information.
Melody found it boring, but wasn't Kurapika bored too? Kurapika equally disliked these social obligations, much like he disliked a tight tie. He truly wanted to rip off his tie, discard his suit jacket, and go outside for some fresh air.
“It’s not tasty.” It was Melody’s complaining voice.
Her voice was exceptionally clear because the surroundings had suddenly fallen silent.
Kurapika seemed to be jolted awake from a dream. He looked in Melody’s direction and saw, further away, the host’s lapel with a smudge of cream.
“It’s not tasty!” Melody sat by the buffet table, her legs beneath her black evening gown glaringly white. Her expression was serious, and she raised a fist to complain, “It’s not tasty!”
More than provocation, her behavior was like a fit of madness, Kurapika thought.
But in the eyes of others, a truly insane woman wouldn't be dressed so elegantly. And she was so beautiful; such provocation must be an intentional bid for attention, a showmanship.
With Melody’s aggression deliberately ignored, the host’s death became effortless.
It didn’t matter what response the host made to Melody’s provocation; what mattered was that he was subsequently killed by a micro-bomb Melody had hidden inside a cream puff.
It was a delayed-explosion bomb. Kurapika saw Melody silently moving her lips, and later, Kurapika understood she was counting down.
Weapons were forbidden at the banquet. No, even with weapons, nothing would change. She was practically a killing machine, killing several people in the blink of an eye. Blood splattered everywhere, dyeing the crystal chandelier a bloody hue under the warm light. Guards raised their guns and fired, chandeliers crashed to the floor, mixing with the blood.
The doors were not locked, and some people managed to escape and survive. The rest became corpses, forever remaining in the banquet hall.
Kurapika tried to stop her, but she killed faster. By the time Kurapika could approach her, there were no other living people left in the banquet hall.
“Ha… haha…” Melody stood on the banister, her shoulders shaking with laughter, bending over to clutch her stomach.
“Kurapika.” She stopped laughing, called his name with unclear meaning, and then broke through the window to leave.
Today was the fifth day since Melody had left.
Kurapika absolutely did not want to think of Melody, but Melody was creating trouble for him. Melody had not spared the survivors, and news of mafia personnel deaths kept coming. Melody, who frequently accompanied Kurapika, was equivalent to a part of his calling card. This meant that Melody’s actions would be considered Kurapika’s orders, and thus the Nostra family’s stance.
In the ensuing collective melee for leadership within the mafia, Melody’s actions were tantamount to declaring the Nostra family’s active participation in the power struggle. The bird that sticks its head out gets shot. The unstable Nostra family could easily become the prime target.
As things stood, Kurapika had no choice but to abandon his initial strategy of low-profile survival and adopt a firm stance. As for when Melody would stop, Kurapika could not predict.
She couldn’t possibly kill all the mafia, could she? Kurapika thought, but he wasn't entirely sure. That's why he never stopped trying to contact Melody while secretly tracking her whereabouts.
Yes, Melody certainly couldn't kill all the mafia. She wasn't that diligent. Some people weren't killed by her at all; they were framed by opportunists. Melody didn't care about these things. If you have many troubles, you don't fear them anymore.
On the first day, Melody was quite enthusiastic. On the second day, she was casual. On the third day, she started to rest, lying down and enjoying door-to-door service.
Illumi put a one-jenny coin into the rabbit piggy bank.
[Pre-nuptial Contract (269/999)]
Although Kurapika felt greatly tormented by Melody in various ways during these days, Melody was also a bit tired. Playing the role of a full-fledged villainous boss every day, contemplating the standard lines for a villainous boss, and feigning an air of superiority where everything was under control required extra effort.
After all, I am, at best, a minor villain. Melody was self-aware.
Leaving Kurapika, not having to maintain the villainous boss persona, and not having to guard against Kurapika’s chain attacks, Melody felt a unique freedom. She didn’t even want to look back at Kurapika’s gloomy, hateful face. Oh, apologies, that’s only natural. How could Kurapika have a good expression towards his enemy?
Anyway, Kurapika was a character she had already collected. It was fine to just leave him as he was, Melody thought.
“Sister…” Illumi made a sound from the coin-operated fully automatic massage chair, no, it was Illumi.
Melody’s fingernails had left wounds on his back and arms, blood flowing down his arms to the back of his hands.
“Did I do well?” Even though Melody had once put her fingers into his wounds and stirred them, he remained unmoved. To him, the scratches at this moment were almost painless.
“…” Melody raised her blood-stained hand and cupped Illumi’s left cheek. Several marks like tear tracks appeared on his face, and his eyelashes were also stained with blood.
“Sister, did I do well?” he persisted in asking, seemingly eager for affirmation.
“…” Melody let out a long sigh. “Put more strength into it. Haven’t you eaten enough…?”
She was better off than Kurapika, who was forced to do such things. Wait, no, that was because Kurapika wanted to tear her to shreds, right? Kurapika’s technique was super bad, no, to be precise, it lacked any technique at all. How awful, was she that much of a masochist?
Speaking of Kurapika, Melody remembered she had a hidden event yet to be triggered. She had been looking forward to that hidden event since they first met.
She’d play with Kurapika again later, Melody thought.
Melody’s mood grew increasingly cheerful. She stroked Illumi’s head to the back of his skull and decided to send him away. “See you next time, Illumi.”
To cover the scars on her arm, Illumi, as usual, had prepared long-sleeved clothing.
Melody opened her eyes, and crimson red spread within her pupils – Scarlet Eyes – thinking of the hidden event waiting to be triggered with Kurapika, she felt a bit too excited.
“Do you love me, Illumi?”
“I love you very much.”
Hmph, you just want my inheritance.
Blinking, Melody’s pupils returned to blue.
Her mood obviously soured. She suddenly turned cold and ordered Illumi to get out immediately.
Illumi… Illumi, accustomed to it, left. Before leaving, he tidied Melody’s disheveled hair a little.
“See you next time, Sister.”
When Kurapika saw Melody again, she was sitting in his office chair, legs crossed on the desk, holding her phone in one hand, the screen displaying over a dozen missed calls from Kurapika. Melody swayed her phone at him, “I’m back.”
“Are you going to behave yourself now?” Kurapika was like a knife that had just cut through an enemy’s throat, exuding a murderous aura.
He hadn't killed anyone, but he had gone through a fierce battle. He had discovered that some people weren't killed by Melody; Melody was used as an excellent scapegoat for the power struggles within various factions.
Regardless, the massacre at the banquet was indeed done by Melody, and the Nostra family gained notoriety from it. Melody’s unauthorized actions had put him in a difficult position. He could only present himself as a tough mafia boss, unwilling to compromise and not stingy with violence, to make enemies wary, thereby protecting the Nostra family amidst the chaos.
“I didn’t intend to come back and bother you,” Melody said, glancing at the bloodstain on his cuff. “Don’t you want me to come back?”
“I want you to not forget the deal between us,” Kurapika said, hanging his suit jacket on the rack. “I will watch you die, and then I will take back the Scarlet Eyes you promised me.”
“Can you tolerate me being by your side?”
“Every moment, I wish you would go to hell immediately.”
“Then come and kiss me,” Melody beckoned him with a finger. “So I won’t want to go out and do bad things.”
Kurapika’s palm pressed against Melody’s neck. The cold chains mixed with body heat, as unfeeling as Kurapika’s kiss. Melody grabbed his tie, pulling him down to bring their bodies closer.
This woman’s greatest pleasure was seeing him unwilling, yet forced to cooperate. So…
Abandon pointless emotions.
Cannot be led by the nose any longer.
Seize the long-lost initiative.
The documents on the desk were swept aside.
“Don’t you like doing this? You taught me how to do it before.”
………………
…………
……
Kurapika felt disgusted with himself, and also disgusted with Melody. At this moment, the former seemed to be more intense.
The glass window at night would reflect the scene inside. Kurapika, with blood-red eyes, engaging in violence, appeared like a demon.
Red-eyed demon, this was the prejudiced name outsiders called the Kurta clan.
But Melody still shamelessly felt excited.
“… Shameless!” Kurapika picked up the clothes that had fallen on the floor and angrily threw them at Melody’s face.
Melody removed the clothes from her face and asked with some helplessness, “Then what exactly do you want…”
As Melody tried to sit up, Kurapika grabbed her neck and pressed her back onto the desk. Lacking a proper outlet for his emotions, his extremely frenzied Scarlet Eyes made his expression appear particularly ferocious. His teeth were grinding, as if he wanted to tear Melody apart right there.
“Kurapika.” Melody bent her legs, using her toes to push against his abdomen. “Let me help…”
The latter half of the sentence was blocked by Kurapika’s mouth. Kurapika lunged forward, pressing himself onto her. His kissing skills were terrible, his teeth colliding with Melody’s several times.
………………
…………
……
The broken window effect theory suggests that if negative phenomena in the environment are allowed to persist, they will induce people to imitate them, even escalating them.
At that moment, Kurapika felt a nerve in his brain snap. His eyes were vacant. He held down Melody, causing even Melody to let out a small scream. Kurapika immediately reached out and covered Melody’s mouth.
This was not the worst situation.
Afterward, Kurapika, having slightly regained his senses, looked at Melody again.
Above his palm, Melody, whose mouth he had covered, had eyes that were the same fiery red as his.
“… Scarlet Eyes.” Kurapika mumbled unconsciously.
After saying it, he finally understood what he had just said.
Scarlet Eyes.
He released his hand and looked at Melody again. The other person seemed to have already stopped breathing.
Scarlet Eyes.
When the Kurta clan members became extremely agitated, their eyes would turn fiery red. If they died at such a moment, this color would forever remain in their eyes.
【“I still have a pair of Scarlet Eyes.”】
【“When I die, you can take them.”】
These were the other pair of Scarlet Eyes that Melody possessed, in her eye sockets.
Kurapika collected Scarlet Eyes to return the eyes to his clansmen.
These were not the Scarlet Eyes Kurapika wanted to collect.
“… Why.”
Grief struck Kurapika’s brain like a colossal hammer, causing his head to buzz.
An invisible whirlpool pulled him down.
Darkness engulfed him.