Chapter 93: No One Trips Over the Same Stone Twice
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 93: No One Trips Over the Same Stone Twice
After circling the room and failing to find any clothes left out, Muen finally turned his gaze toward a wardrobe that had fallen over, likely knocked down during the earlier commotion.
"It’s not stealing, it’s not stealing. I’m just taking one outfit. I’ll compensate them twofold—no, tenfold—later."
Muttering this to himself to ensure he felt righteous about his actions, Muen reached out, preparing to pull open the wardrobe door.
"Huh? Why won't it budge?"
Muen stared at the wardrobe, a look of confusion crossing his face.
Then, his eyes followed the seam of the wardrobe door downward, and he was instantly stunned.
"Holy crap, that’s a lot of locks!"
Because the room was so dim, he hadn't noticed at first. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Muen realized that this shabby wardrobe was fitted with at least a dozen locks!
"What the hell? Is he hiding gold bars stolen from the Imperial Bank in there?"
Muen straightened up, feeling a headache coming on.
If someone went to this much trouble to lock something up, it meant there was something incredibly important inside. He couldn't exactly justify picking the locks just for a change of clothes.
Even though picking them wouldn't be difficult for him.
"Forget it, I'll find another way. Wrapping myself in a bedsheet is better than nothing."
Muen was about to grab a sheet from the nearby bed as a temporary fix when something caught his eye on the side of the wardrobe.
There was a crack, likely caused by the earlier impact, and a dark corner of a garment was poking out.
"So it really is just a wardrobe?"
No matter how many locks you put on it, a wooden wardrobe was still just a wooden wardrobe. It was something that could be smashed open with a single punch; what kind of protection did he expect it to provide?
If it were truly something precious, why not use a safe?
"But still..."
Muen rubbed his hands together, feeling a stroke of luck.
"You’re the one who poked out. Don't blame me."
With that, he grabbed the corner of the garment and gave it a sharp tug...
The smirk that had just begun to form on his face instantly froze.
"Are these... briefs?"
Muen looked at the familiar style of men's underwear in his hand, his expression immediately turning to one of disgust.
A beautiful girl's panties were one thing, but a man's junk-wrappers were...
Fortunately, perhaps because he had pulled too hard, the briefs brought other items along with them, revealing another dark corner inside the wardrobe.
Muen tossed the briefs aside and grabbed the new corner, pulling again—
More briefs?
Is my luck really this bad?
"I don't believe this!"
Muen’s temper flared. Ignoring everything else, he reached his hand directly into the crack in the wardrobe.
...
A few minutes later...
Muen stared at the small mountain of men's underwear piled before him, deeply questioning his life choices.
Does anyone... actually own this many pairs of underwear?
Even a hardcore germaphobe who changed ten times a day wouldn't be this terrifying!
"Wait..."
Muen snapped out of it.
Setting aside the sheer quantity, if he looked closely, the styles were all completely different.
Just as one couldn't date two women at the same time, a person couldn't wear two different sizes of underwear simultaneously.
Which meant...
Like a bolt of lightning flashing through his mind, Muen suddenly remembered what Celicia had told him earlier.
"The boys' dormitory... an underwear-stealing... pervert?"
...
In an instant, a chill surged from the soles of Muen’s feet to the top of his head. A terrifying sense of malice coiled above him like a venomous snake, flicking its tongue.
His neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head.
The room door had opened at some point. A tall, hulking figure stood in the shadows, silently watching Muen.
That normally honest and sturdy face was now filled with utter disbelief.
He seemed just as stunned by the scene before him.
He looked like an honest husband returning home late from overtime, only to hear strange noises coming from his wife's bedroom.
A moment later, a low voice, tinged with both confusion and burgeoning rage, broke the suffocating silence:
"Muen Campbell?"
...
"Haha, what a coincidence."
Muen looked at Ryan standing not far away and squeezed out a friendly smile.
"Classmate Ryan, are you here to visit a friend too?"
"This is my dormitory."
"..."
Muen’s smile instantly stiffened.
I know this is your room, sweetheart, but I was trying to give us an out.
We just walked into an incredibly awkward situation. Can't we both just play dumb and move past this? We're classmates; why do you have to make the atmosphere so tense?
But Ryan clearly didn't grasp Muen’s deeper intent. He simply reached back and drew his massive horse-slaying blade.
"I didn't expect you to find out. Since it's come to this, I have no choice."
Like an honest man who, after a brief moment of rage, disbelief, and hysteria, finally accepts reality and chooses to let go so the other person can be happy, Ryan’s expression grew calm.
"Return to the embrace of the Love God here, Muen Campbell," Ryan said coldly.
"So... that's how it is."
Muen stood up, a look of realization dawning on his face.
Looking at the pile of underwear on the floor and connecting it to everything else, he finally understood what that "Pure Young Men's Mutual Aid Society" actually was. He finally understood why a group of men would be corrupted by the Corrupted Love God.
Only those harboring a twisted love could be corrupted by that deity.
It turned out to be a cult formed by a group of gay men.
No wonder.
Thinking of this, Muen couldn't help but look at Ryan with a hint of pity.
"Do you know what kind of path you've chosen, Classmate Ryan?"
"What kind of path? The path of pursuing love, of course."
Ryan ripped the clothes from his upper body, revealing bulging muscles and... the signature thong of the True Love Cult.
"The great Love God taught me what love truly is. Naturally, I will follow Him forever."
"Therefore, as a heretic who profanes the Divine, you must die here today, Muen Campbell!"
"Is that so? Your devotion to your faith is truly touching. But do you really think you can do it, Classmate Ryan?"
Muen slowly raised the dagger in his hand and smiled.
"I was the one who won during our martial techniques class, remember?"
"That was only because I was too careless and fell for your little tricks."
Ryan glanced at the fruit knife in Muen’s hand—a weapon that seemed to mock his very existence—and a vein throbbed on his forehead.
But he quickly suppressed that anger.
No one trips over the same stone twice. After losing last time because Muen provoked his anger with a few words, he had spent the entire night meditating to regulate his emotions!
This time, he would not let rage blind him so easily!
"It seems the old methods won't work."
Muen sighed and gave a bitter laugh.
"Without those little tricks, I might truly be no match for you. So, before I die, could Classmate Ryan answer a few of my questions?"
"What?"
"It’s nothing much, really. I’m just curious. Since you’re gay, Ryan, why did my words provoke you so much during the martial techniques class?"
Muen craned his neck like a curious child and asked in an exaggerated tone:
"Could it be... Classmate Ryan, that you only chose to be gay as a backup plan because you couldn't find a girlfriend?"
"God dammit!"
Upon hearing this, Ryan’s eyes instantly turned blood-red once again.