441 Wash Hands (2/2)

There was a long pause as if the other man could not process it. After a while, the Mind musician made the fatty say, ”Charles, are you sure?” The voice was cold like an interrogation. ”Have you thought it through? Have you thought of the consequences?”

”How many f*cking times do you need me to say it?!” Furious, Charles's head snapped up. He glared with red eyes. ”I'm done! I'm f*cking done! F*ck the Revolutionaries! F*ck the Silent Authority! Lock me up and let me get a break! Lock me back up!”

He glared at the fat man. In a daze, the fat man became a dead fat man. He instantly decayed. A crude rope hung around his neck. As if he was hanging from somewhere, black blood flowed from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. His mouth opened but when he spoke, maggots and flies crawled out. They crawled…

It was happening again.

Those d*mn feelings were back…

Shocked, Charles stumbled back. Energy sapped, he slid down the wall and thumped onto the ground.

”F*ck…” he muttered, holding his head in pain.

The fat man stared at him coldly for a while before saying, ”Okay. If you won't do it, there are many others. You can go now.”

Charles froze. It could not be so easy.

”Anyway, that's all your worth for,” the fat man said nonchalantly. ”Do you know why Constantine thinks so highly of you? Because you're a genius? What a joke! It's because your teacher—”

”What are you saying?” Charles gaped. He climbed up and his eyes grew cruel. ”This has nothing to do with my teacher! What do you want?”

”Nothing to do with him?” The fatty laughed emptily. ”This is the sin that your teacher, Abraham, committed under Gaius when he was still a Dragon Rider! Now, it is time for him to pay. Charles, did you really think it through? If you don't want to do it, then fine. We can use Abraham as bait and—”

”Don't you dare!” Charles grabbed the fat man's collar and roared.

”This is your choice, Charles,” the fatty said. ”No matter how crazy Ye becomes, nothing will change. The Silent Authority doesn't care about titles. There are quite a few nobles locked up in the Mithril Cellar…You don't want your friend to be locked up because of you, right?”

Charles's grasp weakened. Clutching his head in pain, he stumbled back and curled up in the corner, mumbling. He seemed to be cursing someone but it was unclear. After a long silence, he looked up. The capillaries in his eyes were like burning flames. The eyes were emotionless and dull.

”My excuse was to buy medicine.” He reached out. ”Give me the stuff on this list.”

The fatty smiled and patted his shoulder. ”That's the way.”

Silent, Charles accepted the medicine and left.

－

At night, the Sacred City was colder than usual. The water vapor frosted on the steel walls. Charles walked out of the secret location of the Silent Authority with his ridiculous medicine. Hanging his head, he walked toward the warehouse that he lived in. But then he heard a sigh behind him.

”You take forever.” It was a bearded Revolutionary with a cigarette—his roommate. He leaned against the lamppost and used the weak light to look at Charles with a strange smile. ”Got a cold?” His eyes seemed to knowing; they were chilling.

”How…” Charles stopped, speechless.

Beard Guy stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked up with a smile. Charles was frozen in place. He stared at Beard Guy's hands, not knowing what was hidden.

”What a coincidence.” Beard Guy reached out. He was not holding a sword or rope. He just patted Charles's shoulder and said meaningfully, ”I came out to buy cigarettes and heard that you were nearby so I decided to wait for you.” Pausing, he looked in the direction Charles came from. ”You were there for so long. Were you thinking of leaving?”

Charles smiled stiffly. ”Why would I?”

”Then let's go.” Beard Guy put a hand over his shoulder. His hand was strong like pincers. ”Let's go back first. We can talk about the other things later.”

Face pale, Charles clenched his jaw and forced out a smile. ”Okay.”

－

At the same time, Constantine sat on a chair under the dim yellow light in an abandoned warehouse. Emotionless and wordless, he tapped the table. The other men either sat or stood. Their expressions were dark but they all stared at the table and the document that was being tapped.

Behind Constantine, the examiner lowered his head and sharpened his dagger mindlessly. It grated in everyone's ears.

When someone knocked on the door, he smiled.