120 A Letter from a Stranger 3 (2/2)

Ever since he had realized that he lost his notebook last night, he started panicking. At first, he hoped that Holmes could not read his notes. But who would have known that his code could be read as easily as a novel?

In the morning, he received the news—many people were secretly searching for him. He had hoped the elites could protect him, but when he found out that they had received mysterious letters, he knew that it was all over for him. In the past, they had been the Pyramid Scheme’s protective shield, but now they were the ones out for the Pyramid Scheme’s blood.

Soon, his hard work would be uprooted and wiped out cruelly, with a new face after they erased his existence. A new dog would be in place to continue working for the elites. He must die—he would die. Nobody would allow someone who knew too much to live, especially someone like Sam, who was willing to say anything to survive.

As his innards twisted in pain, he bit down on the blanket, forcing himself to endure the dizziness and fatigue. He could not fall asleep. Once he did, everything would be over.

”Faster, faster…” he murmured, his eyes full of fear. He had thought that his escape was perfect, but when he boarded the ship, he realized that he had been cursed with the Blood Curse. He realized that the fatal noose had been around his neck all this time. If he moved even a little, he would die from asphyxiation.

Now, he just wished he could leave Avalon as soon as possible. The musician who had cursed him was in Avalon. The further he was from the city, the weaker the curse would be. He could only hope that he could find someone who could undo the curse in time, but this was impossible. The crisp voice in his ears was getting clearer.

It was the melody of the noose, digging into his bones and destroying him, ”One blind mouse, two blind mice, three blind mice! See how they run!”

All that could be heard in the stillness was the sound of the boils popping, and Sam’s pained moans. But somehow, he could hear children singing quietly. The song was cruel, eating away at his life like maggots in his bones, ”Cut off their tails, dig out the small eyes, the cute furry body. Rip off their paws, shave the sweet bone marrow, the warm organs are gone…”

The crisp voice continued to sing in his ears, ”Did you ever see such a sight in your life, as three blind mice…three blind mice, three blind mice…”

Face ghastly pale, Sam suddenly opened his mouth and threw up the food in his intestines. They had rotted, like stew made from garbage…

Sam froze. He raised his hand blankly. His trembling hand was numb. It seemed to have disappeared, and that was left was a bag of skin and bones. He looked up at the drawer. The mirror on it had shattered. The shards landed before him, reflecting his withered face.

Warm blood flowed from his eyes, nose, and mouth, cruelly taking away any warmth from his body. He tried screaming out in despair, but he no longer had the strength to scream. He wanted to cry, but had no tears. He prayed to the gods, to the demons, to the monsters, to anything that could help. He was willing to give up anything in order to live.

”Including your soul?” a sandy voice asked softly in his ear. He used the last of his strength to raise his head, looking at the figure that had appeared.

Sam no longer had the strength to be afraid. Bloody tears of gratitude rolled from the corner of his eyes. He blinked with difficulty. The blinks seemed to say, ”Please save me, please save. Please, you must save me. No matter what…just let me live.”

”Then sign this.” The cold shadow tossed him a contract branded with a music piece, ”If you still have the strength to sell your soul, you can live.”

Finally saved, the Pyramid King writhed painfully on the ground. Like a decaying caterpillar, he squirmed toward the open contract.

He was like a sinner in hell squirming toward heaven, begging for salvation. Full of hope, full of humiliation, full of joy, he raised his rotting hand bit by bit and pressed it down onto the contract. The paper lit up with a cloudy light and lit up in flames, vanishing.

”Very good.” The black-robed shadow smiled in the darkness and snapped his fingers. The children’s voices suddenly stopped, disappearing with a scream. All that was left was a dying and decaying body on the ground, using its last breath.

”Congratulations. You can continue living after selling your last item.” The shadow reached out a delicate and white hand. The amber ring on his finger reflected a gentle yet eerie light. ”Greet your new master.”

On the ground, the Pyramid King shed tears of gratitude. He kissed the ring sincerely, ”Yes, my great master, the great Professor, the great…Lord Moriarty.”