âBetween me, Anna Kaplin, and that little maid from your house, pick the prettiest one......â
âMuen Campbell, who do you choose?â
Celiciaâs voice was soft and gentle; in those eyes that were at times hazy, at times blank, brimming with rippling spring water, there was a touch of coquettishness that didnât belong to her.
In the warm breath she gently exhaled, a faint mix of wine and orchid fragrance tugged at oneâs heartstrings.
But.
Hearing what Celicia said just then, Muen couldnât enjoy any of that beauty.
He was indignant.
He was in pain.
He was trembling.
He was in tears.
Why.
Pray tell, why!
Why do you allâone after another after anotherâlove to ask this kind of soul-torturing multiple-choice question?
A question that does nothing but add fuel to conflict and serves no purpose at allâwhatâs the point of asking it?
Wouldnât peace be nice?
Wouldnât harmony be nice?
Wouldnât amity be nice?
Why must we decide whoâs above and whoâs below?
Wouldnât it be great if everyone could happily become my wings together?
I only want world peace, for everyone to find their own happinessâwhatâs wrong with that?
âHurry... hurry up and answer.â
Celicia urged him, pinching the ice-crystal longsword in her hand again and casually waving it around. That weak, powerless look made it seem like she could fling the sword out of her grip at any moment.
Yet with those random swings, one clear sword mark after another began grazing past Muen, appearing in succession on the door, the wall, the floorâeverywhere.
With each one, Muen could almost see the little goldfish heâd accidentally raised to death in his previous life, now waving cheerfully at him from the far bank of the Styx.
âI...â
âG-give you a heads-up: I wonât accept any âtied for first placeâ option.â Celicia added.
So why do you suddenly get smart at times like this!
âIs that so?â
Muen forcibly swallowed down the nonsense heâd just prepared. He glanced at the voice-transmission stone recording in Celiciaâs hand, drew a deep breath,
âLooks like I can only make a decision, huh?â
âMm?â
Celicia lowered her head in anticipation.
âSay it f-fast.â
âI choose...â
Muen stared into Celiciaâs eyes, a look of absolute resolve on his face.
Then he gave the answer.
âI chooseâdeath!â
âEh?â
As soon as he finished, while Celicia was still staring at him in confusion, Muen suddenly raised his hand and swung a fist...
At himself.
With that full-force punch, paired with a deliberate mental shock, Muen spun three and a half times midair, scraped past the doorframe, crashed into the wall on the other side, and then...
Passed out.
The room fell quiet again.
Staring at Muen, who had knocked himself out with one punch, Celiciaâs cherry lips parted slightly. She blinked and blinked; her drunk-brained mind clearly couldnât make sense of the situation, leaving her adorably dazed.
Unfortunately, Muen couldnât see it.
......
......
In the darkness, a light flared.
A certain very familiar chief justice sat up high and slammed the gavel in his hand.
âI hereby declare: Muen Campbell, for the crimes of two-timing on multiple boats, honeyed lies, saying one thing and meaning another, defiling a princess, and being the ultimate scumbagâsentenced to the ultimate punishment!
âCarry out the sentence now!â
âUltimate! Ultimate! Ultimate!â
The jurors pounded the tables and shouted. A certain lawyer surnamed Aiâsomeone Muen found extremely familiarâlooked especially excited, banging the desk loud enough to shake the heavens,
âKill him, kill him!â
âWait!â
Muen scrambled to argue, âListen to my explanationâIâm not a scumbag, Iâm not!â
But it was already too late. The scene shifted in an instant; the chief justice and the jury vanished. In a daze, Muen realized he was already standing on an execution platform.
There was neither a guillotine nor a noose on the platform.
But three girls stepped slowly out of the darkness.
âYoung Master, Iâm so hurt... why didnât you choose me?â
âJunior, were all the things you said before just lies?â
âMuen Campbell, are you not going to honor the engagement?â
The girlsâ faces were sorrowful, and in their hands... each held a gleaming machete.
âWait, listen to my explanationâlisten to my explanation!â
Muen backed away in a panic, but there was nowhere to escape behind him.
The girls gripped the machetes and slowly closed in; on their blurry faces, it seemed like tears were falling.
âSince... since you wonât make a decision, then we can only compromise.â
âW-what compromise?â
âWeâve decided to fulfill your wish and get along peacefully......â
âThatâs goodâthatâs a good thing!â
âPeacefully divide you up.â
Muenâs expression froze. Immediately after, he saw three bright machetes fall toward his head at the same time.
In the final instant, only one thought flashed through his mind.
When a machete chops into youâitâs damn cold!
......
......
âIâm not a scumbag, Iâm not!â
Muen yelled in terror and snapped his eyes open.
Thankfully, there were no machetes in sightâonly an unfamiliar ceiling.
âThis is...â
He blinked, then sat up in excitement, âItâs morning? I donât have to be tortured anymore?â
Hic. âWhat do you mean, âitâs morningâ?â a familiar voice said.
Muenâs smile froze at once. He slowly turned his head, his neck so stiff he could almost hear his vertebrae grinding.
The familiar scene fell into his eyes again.
It was still that room, still those candle flames, still that drunken princessâlike nothing had changed.
And he was sitting on the only bed in the room, silently locking eyes with Celicia, who was half-climbing up over the bedâs edge.
âH-how long was I out?â
âH-how long?â
Celicia tilted her head, extended a hand, and counted off her fingers one by one. Then she flashed three:
âYou were out for five minutes, ya.â
âFive minutes?â
The corner of Muenâs mouth twitched.
That couldnât be right. Heâd controlled his strength to make sure heâd be out till morning!
If he couldnât even manage that, all those nights getting brutalized inside the Black Book wouldâve been for nothing.
âDid you... do something, Celicia?â
âI healed you, ya.â
Green light blossomed at Celiciaâs fingertips, and in the next instant, that emerald glow turned ice-blue.
âAnd also gave you a wake-up call, ya.â
â......â
Muenâs mouth twitched hard at the sight. No wonder those machetes were so coldâso it was your doing.
âHuh, wait.â
Just then, Muen realized something was off.
Wasnât Celiciaâs face even redder?
And what was with that cute little sentence-ending âyaâ?
Muen raised a trembling finger and asked,
âCelicia, how many is this?â
âThis is......â
Celicia wobbled as she lifted her head, studied that finger of his for a long time, and answered with conviction:
âThree!â
Saying that, she looked back at Muen, pressed a finger to her cherry lips, and murmured in confusion:
âHuh? Muen... Muen Campbell, when did you... learn duplication magic, ya?â
Itâs over. Sheâs even drunker.
But since when does drunkenness deepen as time passes?
Muen slowly lowered his head.
At that moment, as Celicia straightened up, he finally saw what had been pinned beneath â NĐŸvĐ”lđght â (Exclusive on NĐŸvĐ”lđght) her all this time.
That gift box.
But now, inside that exquisite box, in the grid where the chocolates were stored, at least half of them...
Were already empty.
Muenâs vision went dark.
Sheâd been that terrifying after just one pieceânow sheâd eaten a dozen more...
Iâm done for!