"......"
"......Mr. Merka?"
"Mr. Merka?"
"Why are you frozen?"
"The betting time has passed."
Milan chuckled lightly, patting Merka's stiff shoulder and teasing him, completely unaware of Merka's hands clenched tightly on the railing at the edge of the audience area.
He was beside himself with anger.
"Is everyone ready to let go of their bets!"
"Then, let the competition begin!"
Bang!
With the final gunshot, the attendants below swiftly released the iron chains from the beast's body, and quickly flew away from the dueling arena, leaving behind a bewildered girl facing the ferocious beast.
The lion-tiger beast slammed its claws on the ground, without any extra movements, viciously leaped into the air, pouncing towards the girl.
Just as the girl was about to become a victim under its claws, Merka, unable to contain himself, was about to rush down the stage to rescue her when a sudden change occurred.
Red phosphorus?
Merka looked in disbelief at the battle between the man and the beast below.
The girl, in agony, arched her back and was forcefully brought to the ground by the fierce impact, while the lion-tiger beast's lion head roared angrily as it approached, its teeth sinking directly into the girl's left shoulder without any resistance.
But instead of showing pain, the girl seemed strangely relieved, with one eye closed and the other open, wearily gazing behind the lion-tiger beast.
A surge of magical energy appeared suddenly, revealing a giant chameleon with its upper body burning red powder.
The chameleon's limbs were sharp as hooks, solidly piercing into the lion-tiger beast's back.
In an instant, the red powder on the chameleon's body scattered everywhere, enveloping the lion-tiger beast in a whirl.
The lion-tiger beast, in pain, loosened its grip on the girl, and with an alarmed roar, tried to jump away. No matter how it thrashed its body, it could not shake the chameleon off.
Instead, the chameleon used its long, sinuous tongue to bind the lion-tiger beast tightly around its neck.
Soon after, the entire chameleon began to burn more intensely, as if the whole lion-tiger beast's body was placed in a hot oil pan, sizzling loudly.
Beginning with howls of agony, followed by human screams, the lion-tiger beast met its end in the fierce flames.
The girl, with a large gash torn open at her collarbone, stared blankly at what she had done, clearly in shock.
More noticeably, the nobles and the announcer in the audience seats had not yet reacted to how she achieved such a feat in an instant, plunging the whole scene into an eerie silence.
At that moment, Merka finally let go of the knot in his heart for the girl, sighed with relief, found a seat and sat down, gently touching his face, trying to stabilize his emotions.
"What a joke, organizers!"
"Don't ever bring in such unbalanced artifacts in the future!"
"Exactly!"
The lord who was watching the show peacefully on the high platform suddenly became dissatisfied, directly smashing his champagne glass to the ground, the subsequent sound of shattering glass echoing all around, and the tense atmosphere quickly escalated by the arrogant nobles.
"I'm sorry!"
"This is the negligence of our staff, and I personally apologize to you for that."
Milan was also caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, but she quickly regained her composure. With a apologetic look towards Merka, she walked up to the elevated platform in the audience area and performed a noble gesture to all the royals and nobles present.
"However, I have thought of a more entertaining show. Would you all like to see it?"
Mysteriously, Milan took out a small red bag from her pocket. All the attention of the audience was immediately drawn to the show she mentioned, focusing on the bag in Milan's hands.
Carelessly throwing the bag onto the ground, she raised her eyebrows and fixed her icy gaze on the girl in the center of the dueling arena, saying coldly,
"Take off your clothes."
The girl saw the red bag that Milan had thrown down, and her face instantly turned crimson.
She licked her cracked lips, a faint glint appearing in her lifeless eyes.
Impatiently, she removed her tattered clothes to reveal her emaciated and frail body.
"Go and do it with it."
Milan turned her hand and, out of nowhere, produced another red bag, disdainfully tossing it into the dueling arena like giving alms to a beggar.
Upon hearing this, the girl's naked and delicate body trembled slightly. After hesitating for a while, she inexplicably walked toward the creature, now lying lifeless on the ground.
She opened the broken body of the creature to reveal its contents.
Looking at the center of the dueling arena, Merka widened his eyes in disbelief. He was astonished to find out that the so-called creature was not a wild beast at all, but a male Curseborn draped in the skin of a beast, mimicking its behavior.
It...or rather he, had been almost burnt to ashes by the red phosphorous—his entire body charred black, his limbs twisted as if they would crumble at the slightest touch.
But even facing such a sight, the girl still trembled her lips and, without a hint of complaint, painstakingly dragged the embedded Curseborn out from within the creature's body.
"..."
Seeing this scene, Merka could not hold it any longer and knelt down on one knee, retching.
"Wait."
“Who told you to do it directly?”
"Use this."
Milan glanced indifferently at the attendant beside her, who quickly understood and fetched a female prosthetic pen*s from a large box of assorted goods, throwing it towards the girl in the dueling arena.
With her head tilted to the side, the girl stared blankly at the soft, twisted object lying on the ground. Suddenly, she jolted in fright, finally remembering what she was supposed to do.
Her originally blushing cheeks had now turned into a sickly shade of red-purple due to severe malnutrition and the excessive blood rush caused by embarrassment.
Like a puppet with strings, she clumsily put on the prosthetic pen*s. The blood flowing from the cracked wounds on her shoulders, due to severe malnutrition, made her slightly anemic, causing her to experience momentary dizziness whenever she moved a bit too much.
Limping towards the silhouette of the creature, she resembled a zombie from a movie—both pitiful and laughable.
Finally climbing onto the pile of charcoal, the girl, with her crimson cheeks suppressed, painfully maneuvered her stiff body to align the prosthetic pen*s with the corresponding area on the charred body and awkwardly stabbed it down.
Upon hearing the murmurs from the audience on the stage, the girl knew that her performance was not convincing enough. She had to awkwardly act out the scenes of lovemaking as she imagined them, shouting in discomfort.
Watching the girl acting as if she was indulging in the pleasure with a piece of charcoal while mechanically simulating the movements of intercourse, the guests around finally burst into laughter. Even those who were initially displeased by the hastily ended competition were now completely amused.
"Turing... kill her."
"Turing, I'm going to kill her!"
Spitting out the bitterness, Merka half knelt on the ground, wiping the corner of his mouth. Growling fiercely, his eyes seemed to be able to kill. He didn't know that for the first time, he had explicitly stated that he wanted to kill someone.
"Her moans are too weak."
"Send someone to teach her a lesson, otherwise she won't know her place in serving others in the future."
Milan glanced disdainfully at the girl in the dueling arena, who was shouting and dancing as if struggling in a quagmire while simulating intercourse. She sighed helplessly, then descended from the high platform.
"Mr. Merka, it seems like you didn't enjoy tonight's performance."
"No worries, I'll take you elsewhere to have more fun."
"I guarantee your satisfaction."
Approaching Merka, Milan smiled knowingly. She didn't ask much but extended a gentle invitation to Merka.
Although she could see that Merka was clearly in an odd state by now, Milan chose to ignore it. In her mind, there was no one in this world who could resist the seductive allure, the adoring servants, and the envy of others.
"............"
In response to Milan's gesture, Merka remained silent for a long while. It wasn't until a while later that Merka finally spoke.
"Miss Milan."
"I came here today for that girl."
"But now, you treat her like this..."
Merka's tone gradually turned cold and stern.
"Ah... oh, I see, my apologies."
Milan seemed to awaken from a dream, casually rubbing her palms together in front of Merka.
"But she hasn't suffered much, to be honest."
"On the contrary, I performed surgery on her, gave her the Holy Relic, completed the performance. Not every Curseborn can achieve such an honor."
"As a slave, I didn't harm her."
"I empowered her."
"If you need, I am happy to offer you this Curseborn whom I have empowered..."
With a muffled sound, in Milan's shocked gaze, a sudden sharp pain struck her lower body, forcing her to swallow the rest of her words. With a splash, her intestines and internal organs spilled onto the ground.
"You won't have that opportunity."
"Empowering her... why not empower me instead."
"I happen to be unaware of what a uterus looks like."
Turing emerged like a thick, violent black mist, instantly drilling out of Merka's body.
She held the eerie black key taken from her body, still poised as if wielding a sword. But Milan's body, slowly, in front of Turing, split into two from the middle and crashed to the ground with a bang.
"So, it looks like this," Turing said.
Turing's body re-condensed next to Merka, who, disdainfully, rummaged through Milan's scattered body organs lying in a pool of blood on the ground, muttering to herself.
"What, what!?"
"Help, someone, help!"
"Who is she, and how did she get in!?"
The nobles around scrambled about in confusion, desperately running in all directions. Some called for help, some shouted for servants to protect them, some tried to escape, but none dared to approach Turing. Let alone go near Milan, to cast some healing magic on her who wasn't completely dead yet.
Little did they realize, such actions not only couldn't save themselves, but only further stoked the fury raging inside Turing.
As the fury stirred up in Turing's mind like a raging storm, a crack finally appeared in the unshakable rock within the sea of memories in her mind.
The dim, dark dreams in the electronic jungle of yore finally crept up next to Turing's ear, whispering.
You are thunderstorms
You are the underworld
You are the final black cloud pressing over the city
You are the last bit of cruel snow in a snowstorm
You are lightning
You are thunder
You are the curse uttered by the venomous curse-monger, through gritted teeth
You are the solemn blade in the hands of the doomsday proclaimer
You are a weapon
You are the crystallization of wisdom that humankind has feared and prided on for eons
You are @#'-@_～*'#
You are...
Death itself, unadorned.
