Obsession... What's That? I Just Wish Someone Would Help Me Escape - Chapter 17
Could it really be Justina?
I narrowed my eyes, focusing intently on the swaying curtain.
After a wait, the figure from before reappeared.
Observing through the narrow gap, he seemed to stand at least 188 cm tall?
As he turned, a glimpse of his handsome profile was briefly visible.
“No…”
His build made it clear he was a man.
Just a good-looking priest, after all.
“Prisoner number 49, are you using the advanced technique of sleeping with your eyes open? You’ll lose attitude points.”
I quickly adjusted my posture at the guard’s warning as he passed by.
The sermon-giver was railing about how we, the demons, were the root of all evil.
Despite the lengthy and tedious narrative, everyone seemed attentive; I had dozed off a bit.
“This is the rightful punishment for the descendants of demons who allied with the five Archdemons a thousand years ago. Oh merciful Eloastre, expel the devils that reside in their bodies and minds, and lead them to enlightenment. Testamia.”
“Testamia!”
Someone, eager for points, shouted passionately.
The priest’s pleased gaze landed on the enthusiastic prisoner.
He appeared to be noting something in a leather-bound notebook, likely awarding extra points.
“Prisoner number 31, you are granted the chocolate pie by the grace of Eloastre.”
The priest declared solemnly, pointing him out.
The provision of a chocolate pie to prisoner number 31 caused a stir in the hall.
Several stood up, their faces brimming with faith, and cried out.
“Testamia! Forgive the sinner!”
“I deserve to be punished!”
Though it was unclear what wrong they’d confessed to, it seemed shouting your guilt aloud was the way to go.
Others sang hymns or prostrated themselves on the floor, all in a tearful effort to earn points and chocolate pies.
I wasn’t keen on going to such lengths for points.
Johann, who appeared to have a liking for chocolate pies, much to my surprise, merely sat with an expression of boredom, but with a clenched jaw.
Enrique, on the other hand, seemed to sit in an upright, model-student manner but was actually deep in sleep, clearly immersed in slumber.
“Don’t you like chocolate pies?”
Upon my inquiry, Johann looked uninterested.
“I don’t need to do such things; others bring them to me as is.”
Ah, so he already had a faction that catered to his tributes.
That explained why he was skeptical and not particularly moved by the potatoes I managed to bring him.
Disheartened by his reaction, Johann then made a request,
“Lend me your lap.”
“Excuse me?”
Johann didn’t wait for my consent before placing his head on my lap and comfortably settling down.
“I don’t usually allow this for just anyone.”
His green eyes, visible beneath the swathes of black hair, lazily curved in relaxation.
“A lap pillow?”
It seemed as if even the guards would offer their laps if he requested, considering his stature.
He gently shook his head, lowering his gaze slightly.
“It’s me offering my lap for you to rest.”
“Ah… I see.”
With no immediate response, I observed him. His gaze, initially drifting, fixed back onto me.
“I have something to say to you.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“Bend closer. It’s something private.”
Curiosity led me to lean closer over the desk, minimizing the gap between us.
Before I could express surprise at the sudden embrace around my neck, he propped up his upper body, bringing his face close to mine.
His unique scent and breath were unmistakably close.
From an outsider’s perspective, it might seem as if we were kissing.
What could be so confidential that it warranted such an uncomfortably intimate posture?
His gaze, now quietly observant, methodically scanned my face.
Laying back down, he closed his eyes and murmured softly,
“Hmm, I think it’s right.”
Despite the unexpected hit that left my thigh aching, I refrained from questioning him.
And I’m curious as to why he continues to draw out suspense this way?
I pressed the man, who was stringing me along with suspense.
“What is it? Don’t keep me hanging, just tell me already.”
“No, it feels too embarrassing to say out loud.”
Was he circling around a promise to help?
Though I didn’t get a clear answer, I straightened up, somewhat relieved.
“Prisoner number 49, do not doze off.”
Damian approached, seemingly ready to lecture, but upon noticing Johann resting his head on my lap, he sighed deeply.
“This isn’t the master bedroom, you should probably do your lovemaking where no one is watching, and Prisoner Number 1, sit up straight.”
