scélérat

Chapitre 4

Second, brothers and sisters charge together (4)

I smiled at the group, and their eyes narrowed. Even the burly man with the cleft lip slowed his movements.

The menacing atmosphere I deliberately created with that slash and smile did indeed put me in control. It seems my acting skills are pretty good, but I got too into character just now, and my fingertips are scratching my neck so hard it's burning.

Ignoring my neck pain, I walked to another deserted corner, slowly sat down, leaned against the wall, and closed my eyes to rest. I had no interest in talking to these people and hoped things would just stay peaceful until people from Beijing came and took me away.

Wishes are just wishes, and after only a little over an hour, the relatively peaceful state in the detention cell was broken by a new member.

When the sixth member of this cell was pushed in by the guard, everyone, including myself, was stunned for a moment.

Because it's a woman.

Her messy hair partially obscured her pointed chin, and her thin ears peeked out from among the stray hairs, making her look like a fallen elf.

She is very young.

Whether it was the loud noise or the unpleasant smell, she shrank back as the iron gate slammed shut. But she quickly realized it was futile; the cramped, solidified space left her with nowhere to escape.

The girl kept her head slightly lowered; the five men in the dimly lit room clearly exerted a great deal of pressure on her. Her dark eyes observed us through her loose hair, wary and hesitant.

The cleft lip smiled silently again, his mouth widening considerably compared to when I came in, and I could see his decayed molars from the side.

The girl slowly retreated to the wall, to the place furthest from us.

In reality, in such a small room, no matter where you hide, you're only a step away from everyone else.

Unlike when I came in, this time, the men's gazes followed her, landing on her face and body, moving back and forth. If it were an ordinary girl, she would probably feel that these gazes were like cutting knives, tearing her skin wherever they touched.

The girl didn't move, but every pore on the skin of her arm bulged out from the trembling.

His cleft lip still hasn't closed properly, and I suspect that because of it, his mouth can never close completely. The crimson smudge behind the cleft is his tongue.

The square-faced man smiled kindly once again.

"Hey girl, what brings you here?" he asked.

The man with the hooked nose pushed himself up with his hand, squatted down, tilted his head back, stared at the girl, and smirked.

The bald man had already sat down, his back pressed against the wall, and he swayed a few times, making a "rustling" friction sound. His back seemed to suddenly itch, and he kept rubbing it in a crooked way.

These people didn't do anything particularly big, but I felt that the room suddenly became smaller and more cramped.

The girl's hair, which was covering her face, had mostly fallen naturally to both sides. Her features were delicate yet stubborn. She pursed her thin lips and did not answer.

The hook-nosed man stood up, glanced sideways at the harelip, looked out through the window in the iron gate, and then turned back to the girl.

"You're quite pretty, nice girl." His voice was high-pitched and deliberately sarcastic, which made me feel nauseous.

"Hehe." The harelip chuckled softly, its sound as muffled as if it had phlegm in its throat.

The man with the hooked nose slowly took two steps forward, and in just two steps, he was already very close to the girl.

The girl looked disgusted and moved to the side.

"Hey, what's with that expression?" The hook-nosed man turned to the square-faced man and said, "This girl looks down on us, haha."

He chuckled twice, then suddenly spat at the girl, saying, "What are you pretending to be innocent for? I bet you were caught red-handed selling yourself. There's a saying, what's it again? What goes around comes around." He was quite pleased with his adapted idea and chuckled again.

The girl tilted her head, and the hooked nose's saliva splattered on her cheek. She was a little flustered, wiping her face with her hand while pressing herself against the wall to avoid the hooked nose.

"I...I'm not like that. What do you want?"

Perhaps because I was the only person in the room who wasn't moving, the girl moved closer to me to avoid the hooked nose.

"We're all down on our luck, what else can we do?" It's in my nature to be a hero and save the damsel in distress. Although my own situation was dire, I couldn't stand idly by. I slowly stood up with what I thought was a rather cool posture and uttered the first words I spoke upon entering this cell.

The hook-nosed man slowed down after hearing my words. He really only wanted to scare the girl and have some fun, but if he went too far and the girl screamed and attracted the guards, he would be in big trouble.

The girl glanced at me a few times, then took two steps closer and stood next to me.

The man with the hooked nose glanced at the two of us, scoffed softly, and walked back to the man with the square face.

The detention cell returned to silence.

The girl stood next to me but didn't speak to me; she was clearly still wary of me.

I stood for a while, then sat down again. The cleft lip's eyes kept glancing at me. In the current situation, the girl and I were clearly the weakest party. I had just spoiled the fun for these people, and the irritable cleft lip must be very unhappy.

I was annoyed by his stare, so I simply closed my eyes and went to sleep.

After resting with his eyes closed for a while, he heard a soft rustling sound. He opened his eyes and looked towards the source of the sound, only to see the girl's legs.

The girl was standing to my side, wearing jeans, her two long legs stretched straight together. Her legs were beautifully shaped; when they were pressed together so tightly, the curves of her legs blended so perfectly that you couldn't even insert a piece of paper.

But how did that sound come about?

As I was wondering to myself, the same sound came again. This time I looked closely and saw that the girl's legs rubbed together very slightly.

I looked up and saw the girl biting her lower lip, her eyebrows furrowed, looking very unnatural.

I guessed the reason. This whole thing... how is she going to get through this? I'm afraid she won't be able to. There's nothing I can do to help her.

After a while, the girl rubbed her legs together more frequently, and I could clearly feel that the muscles in her legs were completely tense.

Her fingers, which had been intertwined, separated at this moment, and she gently touched my shoulder with her left hand.

I looked up at her.

The light was dim, but her face was still noticeably red.

Her legs were slightly bent, as if she was about to sit down and talk to me, but then she stopped.

I knew it must have been difficult for her to squat down, so I stood up myself.

"Here, where is it okay, is it okay..." The girl's voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz, but luckily I already knew what she wanted to ask.

"There should be a spittoon, right?" I replied softly.

The detention cells are not gender-segregated, and people use spittoons to go to the toilet, which are emptied once a day.

My movements had already attracted the attention of others. The surroundings were originally very quiet, and even the heavy breathing of the cleft lip could be clearly heard. They also heard my reply to the girl.

The bald man whistled.

Second, brothers and sisters charge together (5)

The man with the cleft lip turned around, bent down, picked up the large metal spittoon that had been hidden from his body, and placed it in the center of the cell.

"Pee or poop? It's all here anyway. Can't hold it in? Then come on," the cleft lip said in a hoarse, muffled voice.

"Here?" the girl exclaimed. "How can we do this here?"

“If this doesn’t work, then it will. Go out the door, turn right and walk straight, then turn left through the iron gate. That’s the end. Go ahead and go.” The hook-nosed girl said.

"Don't say that. She's a young girl who's easily embarrassed. Just let her poop in her pants," the square-faced man said with a kind smile.

The girl looked at me pleadingly, but what could I do? Could I really let her go outside to use the restroom?

The girl's legs rubbed together quickly again.

With his hooked nose and sharp eyes, he chuckled, "Looks like she's holding in her pee." Then, he actually whistled softly, deliberately wanting to see the girl embarrass herself.

The bald man started blowing his own horn too.

He pouted and tried a couple of times, but unfortunately his lips leaked air, and all that could be heard was a "whooshing" sound.

"Damn it, I can never get this thing working," he muttered under his breath, then stopped.

The girl's body trembled slightly; she was struggling to hold it in, her lower lip almost bleeding from biting it. But no matter how much she endured, there would always be a time when she couldn't hold it in any longer. I sighed inwardly; it seemed she would rather wet her pants than urinate in front of everyone.

Of course I could ignore this, but the girl had stood by my side after all, and deep down, she vaguely hoped that I, the man who looked the kindest, could lend her a hand.

I know I should just sit and watch; that's the wisest thing to do.

I'm just born to be a hero. Is it because I read too many comic books when I was a kid?

The girl clenched her fists and held them at her sides. I gently patted the back of her fists and walked out.

I walked up to the spittoon, and the cleft lip stared intently at me through it.

I bent down to pick up the spittoon.

Just as he was about to straighten up, he felt a tightness on his shoulder as a large hand pressed him down firmly.

"What are you doing?" the harelip asked me harshly.

“I need to pee, look at me, I can’t pee,” I said loudly.

The man with the cleft lip paused, his grip loosened, and I pushed him aside with my hand, placing the spittoon in a corner of the cell.

I put the spittoon against the corner of the wall, turned my back to the others, and relieved myself thoroughly. Then I turned around, took a step forward, and glanced at the girl.

The girl looked at me, hesitated slightly, and then walked behind me.

The sound of water could be heard. I imagine she must have been extremely embarrassed at that moment, but this was the best she could create.

As for me, standing in front of her, I was subjected to the gazes of four other people, each with their own distinct thoughts, but none of them showing any kindness.

It felt like a long time had passed before the girl turned around and appeared from behind me.

"Thank you," she said softly.

The cleft lip nodded at me.

“You’ve got guts, kid,” he said.

A violent conflict ultimately did not occur, and even the seemingly volatile cleft lip did not actually lash out. The main reason was certainly not because I was "brave," but because there were police outside.

Looking back now, I realize the middle-aged policeman transferred me here simply because he was annoyed by my attitude and wanted to give me a worse environment. He didn't really intend to subject me to much physical suffering; in this small detention center, prisoners can't cause any trouble. It was just me reading too many novels and watching too many movies that led me to these exaggerated associations.

Over the next few days, no more "roommates" were crammed into the small room, keeping the number at six. The girl and I always sat together, while the bald man and the man with the hooked nose and square face sat closer and closer together, and the man with the cleft lip seemed to get tired of standing and sat down more and more often.

Sleeping was the most terrifying time. There were some rolled-up straw mats, all very dirty, but at that moment no one cared about the dirt; they just spread them out and lay down. The room was already too small to sit in, but with six people lying down, there was practically no space left. The terrifying thing wasn't the mats themselves, but the cleft lip.

A cleft lip makes a snoring sound. While other people's snoring comes from deep in their throats, and a powerful person's snoring sounds like muffled thunder, a cleft lip's snoring comes from between his lips and teeth. Without his awareness, the air passes through the gap between his lips in a strange and rapid way, making a heart-wrenching howl. In the dead of night, it sounds like a ghost's howl, or even more like the shrill roar of a bomb falling from a bomber and crashing to the ground, continuing all night long.

I'm the kind of person who can fall asleep even if thunder is raging outside my window, but the snoring from my cleft lip is clearly beyond my tolerance. I haven't had a single good night's sleep, and most of the time I'm in a daze. If I'm like this, then others are even worse. When the first rays of sunlight shine through the glass behind the thick iron bars in the morning, everyone except those with cleft lips looks pale, and they just keep getting weaker day by day.

I don't know how much longer I'll have to stay here, or how much longer I'll be locked up with the cleft lip. But I've gradually come to realize something: if fighting with the cleft lip could stop him from snoring, I would definitely rush in without hesitation.