Chapter 62
I felt utterly revolted, my face twisting like I'd spotted half-eaten garbage.
As the saying goes, you see what you look for. Whenever scum like these picked a fight with me, they always stumbled into some excuse like this.
I was just about to draw my sword and dismantle their bones from their flesh when—
BAM!
"Gah! W-what the hell!"
A ferocious sword sliced through the thugs' midst. No visible aura blade, but mana clung invisibly to the steel.
So he followed me after all.
I sighed, sensing the familiar presence closing in.
Footsteps echoed through the alley. It had only been minutes since I'd spotted him, but his silhouette already felt familiar. A thick lemon scent pierced the alley's stench, seizing my senses.
"You... insane motherfuckers who deserve to have your filthy mouths erased and tossed to the sharks."
The man who stepped into the alley was seething with rage.
"Who the hell are you?! Why are you—urk!"
"Shut up! Die!"
Reeking like an asura that crawled from hell, the man kicked one thug flying into the wall with a guttural crash. From there, it was a one-sided beatdown.
Hmm•••••
Watching him fight in my stead stirred complicated feelings. It was amusing, like a kitten baring its claws to guard a tiger, and bizarre that he was raging on my behalf over insults I'd brushed off.
Observing him dismantle them barehanded—no sword drawn, just pure martial prowess—I thought:
This guy's someone who already knows me.
The hypothesis gained weight in my mind. Matching the only visible part of his face—his jawline—to a memory.
He looks similar, but...
I tilted my head, puzzled. It wasn't my memory failing; his exposed features felt hazy, blurred somehow.
...Some kind of impression-dampening magic tool.
I furrowed my brow. Even for a Sword Master like me, it wasn't something I could dispel instantly—that meant it was top-tier, expensive. Expensive meant he was loaded.
My thoughts kept drifting to unease.
"Once I quarter your brains, you won't think such filthy thoughts anymore, right?"
Having floored three already, he yanked his sword from the ground with murderous intent. He looked ready to kill.
Aura flickered briefly in his white-knuckled grip on the hilt before vanishing in a flinch.
Hiding his aura.
I narrowed my eyes. He'd suppressed it fast, but a Sword Master like me wouldn't miss that glimpse.
In the original story, Alessandro's aura was described as white.
The tyrannical emperor Alessandro's white aura had puzzled many readers. The author explained:
'Alessandro overcomes obstacles by burning them to ash, so his aura takes the color of pale cinders left by fierce flames.'
Perfectly fitting for Alessandro.
But the color I just glimpsed on this man... it was definitely fluorescent light green.
Absinthe-like, a toxic hue that seemed ready to melt and drip away.
Distinctly not Alessandro's white.
...Was I wrong?
I scowled deeply. Head games were never my strong suit.
I'm better at charging straight ahead.
I surged toward the man aiming his sword at the thugs, mana propelling me. Black mist cloaked my toes, and in under a second, I was at his side.
Whoosh. He startled at my sudden approach; I seized his sword hand.
His mouth gaped in shock.
"No killing."
My whisper drew an incredulous stare—hood hid his eyes and nose, but his vibe said it all.
I'd love to snap their limbs off myself.
Sword Master or not, mature mind or not, I was calmer than most, but emotions didn't vanish. Trash talk like theirs still pissed me off.
But soon enough, I'll have to kill hordes whether I want to or not. No need piling up karma over personal grudges.
The day would come when I'd wield my blade to protect what mattered. I wouldn't hesitate then with pity or mercy—but not yet.
And above all...
"No need to dirty your hands on filth like them."
Our faces close, I whispered gently. No obligation to help, but he'd fought for me in fury; it pained me to see that sword—and his hands—soiled by scum.
"Ha..."
He stared blankly before exhaling a faint sigh. So close, even his breath brushed my skin.
"You're still the same, you know?"
His low, gravelly whisper, laced with breath, tickled my ear. "Still the same" meant he knew the old me.
Grinning at this man who no longer hid, I shot back:
"You've changed quite a bit yourself, you know?"
Teasing whisper in return, I swiftly drew my dagger from my waist and swept off his hood without hesitation.
He welcomed it, as if he'd waited for this.
And there—eyes matching my memory exactly: fluorescent light green. A perilous shade, sweet sugar water away from perfect absinthe.
The same hue I'd once praised as beautiful on that infuriating boy. Deadly enough to coil around my throat, yet irresistibly touchable poison.
"Long time no see, Leo."
My gaze lingered on his tousled pale golden hair fluttering in the spring night breeze, then I let his long-buried name roll off my tongue.
No impression-blurring tool could hide those eyes etched in my brain.
"Yeah."
After a long silence, he spoke slowly. His turbulent gaze filled with ecstasy at my words. His fluorescent light-green eyes boiled dangerously, like poison bubbling in a witch's cauldron.
Slowly, he raised a hand to peel off my mask. Gentle, cautious—slow enough I could dodge anytime. No other presences around, so I let him.
The mask slid away, leaving my face oddly bare. Seeing it, he grinned like a sated beast.
Distance vanished; he bent down—head and shoulders taller than me—until our foreheads touched, confirming each other's warmth.
His pale forehead was surprisingly hot.
Our visions filled only with each other, Leo's lips curved softly.
"Long time no see, Shushu."
His low young man's voice tickled my ear. The feral eyes softened with affection, sharp corners easing.
His fiery absinthe gaze masked its danger with a sugary smile.
"I missed you. So much."
The boy who'd vanished abruptly five years ago had returned no longer a boy—fully grown.
Foreheads touching, our eyes met. Even with him leaning down, I had to tilt my head up to match.
I eased back slightly, creating space to observe him slowly. He welcomed my probing gaze.
Baby fat gone from his face, now sharply chiseled. His once-bratty defiant eyes slumbered predator-like post-feast, yet boiled with something uncanny.
The boyish beauty of a prodigy had matured into an alluring, seductive manhood.
This... he's changed a lot.
My mouth parted slightly. Traces of his youthful face lingered, but what the hell had happened in five years? He'd grown terrifyingly.
"You... the king of Atara Kingdom...?"
One thought dominated with Leo inches away, but I swallowed the question circling my tongue. My brain was 99% sure Leo was Alessandro, but without full context, I'd hold off asking directly.
"You called me out, but now you're clamming up."
Lost in thought, he leaned closer, closing the gap. I flinched back, blurting raw:
"Oh, you're still kicking, huh...?"
Damn! Too cocky!
I cringed, eyes squeezing shut at my own words. We'd been thick as thieves as kids; even suspecting he was king now, my mouth ran wild.
"Hahaha!"
Leo blinked, then burst into laughter. Still chuckling, he eyed me, crinkling his eyes seductively.
"Of course. I said I'd come back for you."
...Is this really Leo?
I edged away, startled. This tender eloquence was unimaginable from my feral cat Leo.
You've... really changed.
Ignoring the alien vibe, I tried casual concern, but my mouth rebelled again:
"Why don't you call me noona anymore?"
Damn! Am I insane?!
I wanted to slap my mouth. Brain screaming "he's possibly the king—be polite," but it treated him like five-years-ago Leo.
Leo stiffened at my petulant gripe.
"...I'll never call you noona, Shushu."
His face hardened briefly, then a chilling smile spread. His blazing eyes hinted I'd touched a raw nerve.
He called me that fine as a kid... why? Sure, at first it was "damn bastard," "dogshit," "kill you"—colorful stuff—but by goodbye, it was "noona."
Clueless, I blinked rapidly at him. He huffed a hollow laugh, slowly lifting a hand to stroke my jaw languidly.
Slow enough to swat away anytime. A hand I could snap easily, yet it felt perilously off-limits.
His large, firm fingers teased my jaw, stirring something deep, then cupped my cheek. Maskless, his warmth seeped straight into my skin.
Staring with boiling eyes, Leo twisted his lips in displeasure and leaned to my ear.
"If you still see me as a kid who can't grasp such blatant intent—and make me call you noona on top—how much more childish would that make me look?"