That false promise was nothing more than a way to play with his pet. Cecil gritted his teeth, his nails digging deep into his palms.
It felt like an eternity before he finally got home. Sehir was drenched in cold sweat, and his lips glistened with the saliva of retching.
As Islam got out of the car and opened the door, reaching out to help Ceshir out, he was slapped away by Ceshir in an impatient tone.
"Get away from me, don't touch me!"
Isri paused for a moment, looking at the person in front of him whose eyes had already turned red. His gaze fell on the newspaper that had been crumpled up and thrown on the ground behind Ceshir, and his brows furrowed slightly.
"Why did you lie to me?" Sehir gritted his teeth, glaring at Isri.
“I didn’t lie to you, young master.”
Isri spoke calmly, without any emotion, while Sehir trembled even more violently, shaking with rage.
"You promised me you wouldn't harm that child!"
"I didn't, young master." Isri felt uneasy, clearly sensing that something was wrong.
Sehir clenched his fists, took a step forward, and his voice dropped to zero.
"Isri, do you find it fun to treat me like a pet?"
Those shameful and indignant eyes were red and swollen, tears welling up at the corners of their eyes and refusing to come out. Isri paused for a moment, then remained silent.
Chapter 105
"You've tacitly agreed?" Cecil gritted his teeth and opened his mouth again.
Isri looked at Sehir, who remained silent. His eyes had already decided that he would do this, and any explanation would be futile.
After thinking for a moment, Isri took a step back and respectfully performed a standard deacon's salute.
Cecil's eyes twitched slightly as he took another step forward, determined to make Isri remember him forever.
Sehir walked up to Isri, reached out and grabbed Isri's tie, pulling him down. Sehir stood straight, not even bowing his head.
"Isri, I hate you now!"
After saying that, he threw his tie aside, turned around and went inside without looking back, leaving Isri standing outside alone.
Just as Isri was about to go over and open the door, he heard that almost screaming voice coming through the crack in the door.
"Get out of here!" Cecil clenched his fists tightly, his long eyelashes trembling in anger.
Suddenly, instead of placing his hand on the door, Isri stepped back to the doorway and stood there, his face looking rather grim.
-
Halfway up the stairs, Sehir found himself completely out of breath and could only squat on the steps, clutching his collar tightly, trying to get more air in.
Those bloodshot eyes were blurred with tears, and as soon as she lowered her head, they fell onto the steps.
Sehir's mouth was half open, and he spoke very softly, mumbling something unintelligible. Only faint whimpers and a small, tearing cry could be heard.
Even though I have no feelings for them and don't even know their names, for some reason, I feel a deep, agonizing pain, as if someone has ripped my heart out.
I don't know how long I stood on the steps to catch my breath. When I finally got up, my whole body was stiff and my legs were numb. I stood on the stairs and fell to the ground after only a few steps.
Sehir didn't move. He just lay there quietly on the ground, letting his tears stream down his face. He turned his head to the side and stared motionlessly at his fingertips hanging down to his side.
Once the pain subsided, his stiff fingertips twitched slightly.
Like a puppet whose soul had been ripped out, Cecil dragged himself towards the room, leaning against the wall, his vision blurring and double images appearing before his eyes.
But as soon as he opened the door, he looked up and saw several small birds perched on the branches of the tree outside. Suddenly, Cecil seemed to go crazy and rushed to the window, staring wide-eyed and shouting.
"Get away! Get somewhere else!"
The little bird was so startled by Cecil's call that it lost its footing and stumbled twice before flying away.
Only when he saw the bare branches again did Sehir calm down and take a few steps back to slump onto the bed.
He was being driven crazy by the torment. Cecil raised his hand, looked at the ring on the middle finger of his left hand, hardened his heart, took it off, and threw it towards the wall.
-
After standing for several hours, Isri also felt a little tired, so he turned around, packed up the carriage, and led the horses back to the stable.
Isri glanced at the crumpled newspaper, then tore it up and threw it into the pile of weeds. His already stern face now showed even more dark lines.
The child's clothes were clearly not cheap. It was only during the child's struggle that it was discovered that his body was covered with marks left by whipping, and there were even needle marks on his neck.
A nobleman with such power would surely cause trouble if provoked, so he did not leave his child behind; how long the child lived was up to fate.
Unexpectedly, the child was killed that very night, and the news was even published in the newspaper. For a moment, Islam felt a terrible headache coming on.
He shook his head and walked towards the market. The sun in the distance was almost completely obscured by the mountains, leaving only a blood-red edge, a frightening red.
Sehir curled up in bed. Although it was springtime, it was still chilly in the afternoon.
Even when he was tucked under the covers, he couldn't feel any warmth. All he wanted to do now was lie still, not move, and not think about anything.
Or rather, he dared not think about it, dared not think about everything that had happened, as if it was all caused by him, as if he was the one who brought trouble upon himself, as if he were the culprit.
He killed so many people, so many...
When Isri arrived in town, the sun had already completely set, and there were far fewer people on the streets, with only a few taverns still open.
Feeling extremely dizzy, Isri randomly chose a tavern with few people and went inside.
For most of the night, Isri spent his time in the tavern, drinking so much alcohol for the first time, his eyes were flushed.
Isri was already strikingly handsome, and with his tall and slender physique, he was quickly spotted by several burly men in the distance.
"How much do you think he can sell for?" a man eating a chicken leg asked Isri, wiping the drool from his mouth.
"These clothes don't look cheap. Are we really going to buy them?"
"What's there to be afraid of? If you're drunk, it's not unreasonable for you to disappear, is it?" The man eating the chicken leg threw the bone in his hand into the plate and said smugly, "Don't you think so?"
"Ha, blame him for drinking too much." As he spoke, his gaze toward Isri became even more arrogant.
Having drunk an unknown amount, Isri leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back to reveal his long, slightly pink neck.
His delicate Adam's apple slid up and down with each swallow. Isri raised his hand and tugged down the tie around his neck, his narrow phoenix eyes narrowing as he looked at the gaze sweeping over from afar.
"Let's do it!" the person who had been eating a chicken leg said, licking his fingers.
Immediately afterwards, two burly men slammed the stool to the ground and walked towards Islam.
Isri remained seated, with various bottles of liquor spilled all over the table. Several buttons on his collar were undone, revealing a glimpse of his private parts to anyone with a discerning eye.
“Get out of my way…” Isri’s voice was a little hoarse as he frowned at the person standing in front of him.
As they got closer, her porcelain-white face, now tinged with pink, became even more stunning, almost like a demon. The man who had been eating a chicken leg was somewhat moved.
Although he found such things between men disgusting, now that this beauty was right in front of him, he was not only not annoyed, but even somewhat looking forward to what such a beauty would taste like.
The people around seemed unaware of anyone's presence, having lowered their heads and stopped looking in their direction, preoccupied with their own business.
The man licked his lips and reached out to touch Isri's front.
Isri held the glass, took a sip of the remaining wine, and exhaled a breath of alcohol through his slightly parted lips.
Chapter 106
This only fueled the imagination. The two burly men locked eyes, lewd smiles on their lips, and reached out to grab Isri.
Before one of the hands could even reach out, Isri's face turned cold, and he stood up abruptly, but because he had been drinking, he was a little unsteady on his feet and swayed a few times.
Upon seeing this, the two burly men immediately tried to help him up, but the next second, Isri pulled out a dagger from somewhere, turned around, and the tip of the blade mercilessly pierced the man's neck.
However, just a second before he was about to stab down, Isri stopped his movements, his eyes turning terrifyingly cold, as if he had remembered something unpleasant.
"Get lost, I don't want to say it a second time!" Isri put away the dagger, feeling a little dizzy.
The burly man clutched his neck, blood seeping from between his fingers. He was instantly consumed by rage, his teeth grinding together. He grabbed a stool from the ground and hurled it at Islam.
The other person was not to be outdone and stepped forward to hug Isri. Isri, who was already agitated, became even more furious. The bloodshot veins in his eyes looked like winding snakes coiled in the depths of his eyes.
Just as the stool was about to fall, Isri made a snap decision and kicked the man behind him in the groin.
"Ahhh!" After a scream, the man knelt on the ground, clutching his abdomen and writhing in agony.
The burly man holding the stool was originally going to hit Isri, but Isri dodged too quickly, and the stool couldn't be stopped in time. When it was swung out, Isri almost fell off as well.
Seeing this, Isri grabbed the man's wrist and slammed it onto the table. He unsheathed the dagger hidden at his waist, twirled it in his hand in a graceful arc, gripped it tightly, and plunged it straight into the burly man's palm.
Suddenly, screams echoed through the tavern again as Isri slowly twirled the dagger in his hand.
"Aaaaaah!" The burly man screamed incessantly as his throat was torn apart, his eyes nearly rolling back in their sockets, and saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth.
Isri clicked his tongue, his eyes filled with disgust and loathing. Without hesitation, he pulled out the dagger, wiped it clean on the man's clothes, and turned to leave the tavern.
—
The evening breeze was cooler, but it felt like a burning flame on Isriel's body, making him even more irritable.
Even Isri, who always paid attention to his physique, was now staggering towards the woods, his belly burning with countless rages that he had nowhere to vent.
Feeling disliked... Isri clenched his fist even tighter and slammed it hard against the tree trunk.
When they returned to the gate of the house, the sky in the distance was already beginning to brighten. The collar of their shirts had been torn open, and their necks were bright red.
The effects of the alcohol seemed to have intensified; Islam placed his hand on the doorway and tried to open it several times without success.
Islam leaned against the doorway, blinking hard to clear his mind, but inadvertently pushed the door open and fell to the ground.
His internal organs seemed to be out of place, screaming inside his body. Isri lay on the ground, frowning, and it took him a long time to sit up.
After the fall, his thoughts became chaotic, and he wobbled as he walked towards the room in his mind.
Sehir was awakened by the sound of the door opening. The person outside tried for a long time but couldn't open it. Frustrated by the two attempts, Isri got angry and punched the wall again.
Sehir sat up in bed, staring at the dark room and the closed door, his heart pounding.
Finally, Islam calmed down and pushed the door open.
"Who is it?" Cecil couldn't see who came in, and instinctively shrank back behind the bed.
“Young Master…” Isri’s voice was even hoarser, as if it had been polished.
Immediately, Cecil frowned, his voice turning cold: "Get out!"