The sun in the sky, the green trees on the ground.
Our bodies were born of the earth.
Our souls came from the heavens.
The sun and moon shine upon our limbs.
The green earth nourishes our bodies.
We surrender this body to the wind that blows across the land.
We thank the heavens for the miracles and the land of the Kurta clan.
May our hearts remain forever safe and sound.
May I share joy with all my brethren.
May I share sorrow with them.
May you forever praise the people of the Kurta clan.
Let us bear witness with our scarlet eyes.
Kurapika tilted his head as if lost, as if he had returned to the forest where he grew up. Night fell, the festival began, and he and his tribesmen chanted prayers and wishes before the bonfire. Then, the elder, as usual, delivered a long speech that the children didn't enjoy listening to. Truthfully, the adults probably wished he would be brief as well. It couldn't be helped; old people tended to ramble, and the elder was a stubborn old man.
...Let us bear witness with our scarlet eyes.
Scarlet eyes.
The color of the burning bonfire was the color of the scarlet eyes, and the flames began to shrink, finally gathering in Kurapika's eyes.
As if having just broken free from drowning, sweat trickled down his chin. Kurapika suddenly took a deep breath and looked wildly at Mols, who lay motionless on the desk, her pupils as vibrant as fire.
Scarlet eyes.
They were indeed genuine scarlet eyes.
The same as the scarlet eyes in Kurapika's own sockets.
Everything around him faded into the distance. Kurapika could only hear his own breathing, the heavy thudding of his heart, and perhaps the sound of blood flowing through his veins. His temples pulsed, and he had a hallucination of his eyes swelling, as if being inflated like a balloon, about to burst from their sockets. He raised his hands and pressed his palms against his eyes.
The temperature of his palms was slightly lower than his eyes. After taking a few more deep breaths, he calmed down a little and noticed something strange.
Opening his hands, Kurapika saw his palms covered in blood. The chain that had been wrapped around his right hand had also disappeared.
Kurapika's consciousness was pulled back to the moonlit night of his first "kill." Strictly speaking, Uvogin hadn't been killed by his direct action; Uvogin had sought death, deliberately breaking the condition Kurapika had set, which resulted in the chain destroying his heart.
Spiders who refused to betray their comrades even in death, spiders who would save their comrades even at the cost of their lives... these were the spiders who had massacred the entire Kurta clan.
Damn it.
Why weren't they complete beasts.
Kurapika felt a wave of nausea, his vision blurred for a moment. He looked at his hands again. There was no blood, only a slight sweat that moistened his palms.
The chain wrapped around his right hand was still there, glinting with cold metallic light.
...Thank goodness.
Kurapika finally felt a little relieved. Initially, creating a specific item from nothing was very difficult, requiring immense imagination and long practice. However, once an item was successfully manifested, it would become as natural as breathing to summon and dismiss. No extra concentration was needed. Kurapika could maintain the manifested chain wrapped around his right hand at all times, disguising it as a real chain to mislead others and prevent enemies from determining whether he was a manipulator or a conjurer.
For this reason, unless it was a special circumstance, Kurapika always kept the manifested chain active, even when showering or sleeping, and especially when he was with Mols.
If the manifested chain disappeared, it would mean his condition was severely compromised.
Fortunately, it had not.
"...Mols." Kurapika rarely used her name, always opting for "you."
Although Kurapika still believed that no matter how Mols died, she deserved it and her death was of no consequence, ... Mols' current state was undoubtedly his own doing.
Moreover, there were many new questions that Mols had yet to answer.
...She couldn't die yet.
A person could be resuscitated within 10 minutes of their heart stopping.
Kurapika knew how to perform CPR. He reached out to Mols. Before his hand could touch her chest, Mols suddenly grabbed his wrist, then clung to his shoulder. Supple branches quickly climbed and grew, entwining him, reaching all the way to his lips.
Both individuals in the kiss had their eyes open, their scarlet pupils identical, yet their emotions different.
"..."
Mols finally pulled away, licking the blood that had spilled from the corner of her mouth—Kurapika had bitten her tongue.
To die under a peony is to be a romantic ghost... Just kidding. If she had a choice, Mols would have preferred a more dignified death. In short, she had only been faking her death because she wanted to give Kurapika a "surprise," her long-awaited "hidden event."
"You what..."
"Of course, I'm your beloved enemy." Mols still had her arms around Kurapika's neck, smiling as she gazed at his scarlet eyes. Then, with a sudden realization, her eyes widened. "Oh! I accidentally exposed my scarlet eyes."
"Why do you have scarlet eyes?" Kurapika questioned her coldly.
"Does it make a difference whether I have them or not?" Mols retorted.
Yes, scarlet eyes only proved she possessed the Kurta clan's bloodline; they couldn't erase the fact that she participated in the extermination. Regardless of whether she had scarlet eyes, she was still Kurapika's target for revenge.
But there was still a difference.
"What were you thinking when you killed your own kin?" Kurapika had asked Uvogin a similar question.
【"What do you think when you kill the innocent? How do you feel?"】
Uvogin's answer then was: "I feel nothing."
Mols' answer now was: "Well, as a 'compatriot' with scarlet eyes, I did consider how to prevent the tragedy. The conclusion was..."
The rest of her words were unnecessary; Mols had already expressed her conclusion with her actions five years ago.
"Don't talk to me about 'fate'." Kurapika, uncharacteristically, moved closer to Mols. His scarlet eyes, hidden beneath the shadow cast by his bangs, were burning flames, glowing in the darkness. "You know better than I do that once the butterfly effect begins, the future will inevitably undergo unpredictable changes that human efforts cannot alter. In other words, 'change' is certain, and the 'future' can be altered."
"My becoming a 'survivor' was your choice."
"The extermination of the Kurta clan was also your choice."
Kurapika cupped Mols' cheeks with both hands, his thumbs pressing just below her eyes, his other fingers resting behind her ears, as if cradling a head.
"Is that so?" Mols smiled faintly. "Think more carefully. Wasn't the catalyst for the Kurta clan's extermination you, Kurapika?"
A smile devoid of guilt, or any feeling at all, from a woman who displayed it so naturally sent a sudden chill down Kurapika's spine.
"You don't understand me, and I understand you better than you think." Mols cradled Kurapika's face in the same manner. "You carry more than just the hatred of your clan's extermination. Much earlier, your best friend, Pairo, also injured his leg and eye because of you."
"...!" Kurapika couldn't hide the astonishment in his eyes.
"But before we continue our conversation, I'd like to get dressed first." Mols moved Kurapika's hands away. "And take a bath."
She deliberately lowered her gaze. Kurapika looked down and immediately understood her intention, recoiling from her as if shocked by an electric current and beginning to adjust his clothes.
"Clean up the desk too," Mols said as she walked out of the office. "I'll wait for you in your bedroom."
"..." Kurapika silently fastened his belt, a tacit agreement.
After cleaning the desk, Kurapika took a quick shower, changed his clothes, and even spent some time contemplating countermeasures. As it turned out, Mols was the latecomer. Kurapika ended up waiting for her, growing impatient, and even began to doubt if she had already left.
Too careless. He shouldn't have let her out of his sight; he hadn't considered that she was a rather capricious person.
Yes, very capricious.
When Mols reappeared, she was wearing a loose robe with a blue base, adorned with golden Kurta clan patterns that stung Kurapika's eyes. Her quiet tea-colored pupils instantly transformed into blazing scarlet.
Kurapika strode towards her, his brow furrowed so deeply that a mosquito could have been squashed.
"It fits quite well, doesn't it?" Mols raised her arms and turned left and right, observing how the clothes swayed with her movements.
By the time Kurapika stopped a step away from her, his eyes nearly spewing fire, "Where did you get that outfit."
Kurapika was currently 171cm tall.
"...Kurapika." Mols stood up and embraced him.
At this moment, Kurapika had no strength to push Mols away. His eyes lost their focus, becoming as vacant as a lost child's.
"I know. For you, lessening anger and forgetting pain are betrayals of your clan." Mols spoke into his ear, her fingers hooking his golden hair from behind his head. "But you lost yourself in pleasure today, which is quite terrible, Kurapika."
Kurapika, utterly unable to refute this, stood frozen. After shedding his armor, the face that was always stern in front of Mols revealed a vulnerable expression.
"I..." Kurapika forced out a word with difficulty.
"What are we going to do? You wouldn't resort to murder and theft." Mols pinched his chin, her fingertips tracing his slightly trembling lips. "Other people with scarlet eyes might propose similar exchanges, after all... you are a beautiful and special child."
Beauty is both wealth and a disaster.
Kurapika had experienced prejudice based on his appearance more than once. Not long ago, he had been publicly slandered by an opposing mafia, who accused him, a "mere rookie bodyguard," of being promoted to the second-in-command of the Nostra family within months due to "unusually intimate relations" with Light Nostra. The original words, of course, were not so polite and tactful, but rather vulgar and indecent.
"That would be an even more dangerous transaction. When you lose control or consciousness, what might they do to you?" Mols said.
"..." Kurapika had considered these possibilities.
"Practicing beforehand is important. You lack experience." Mols' finger slid into Kurapika's mouth. "Be careful not to lose control in front of your opponent."
Not only that, Mols had something else she wanted to verify.
Kurapika's previous loss of control had piqued her interest.
"What did you give me to eat!" Kurapika bent over, trying to spit out what Mols had just placed deep in his throat.
"It's useless; it's already dissolved." Mols took a tissue from the bedside table and wiped the saliva off her hands. "You know, I'm not someone who only indulges in physical pleasure. My time is limited, and I must speed up the process and increase the difficulty."
"Then what exactly was it!" Kurapika's complexion was terrible. Based on Mols' statement, he had a faint suspicion of the answer.
Mols smiled at him.
Kurapika's breathing grew heavier, and a suspicious blush slowly crept up his cheeks.
"Don't you already know?" Mols said.