Obsession... What's That? I Just Wish Someone Would Help Me Escape - Chapter 85
The ending of the original novel I read was, fittingly for a dark genre, a sad one.
It was a hellish party of resentment, love-hate, madness, and obsession, with everyone ultimately meeting their end together.
Summed up in one line, it was the dark bible of subway line 1 lunatics all gathered in one place.
Reader reviews were wildly polarized:
“Total waste of money. Not a single sane character, everyone’s insane, just filled with pointless sensationalism. Ending made no sense at all;;;”
Readers who stumbled in expecting something normal had reactions like that, but…
For those like me, who devoured it with relish, a master of unhealthy relationships, reactions were more like:
“Just as rumored. Ate it up, thanks.😋”
From the perspective of a well-versed master in twisted relationships, love-hate is not just self-destructive; it’s a powerful self-detonating weapon that can bring down your partner, too.
With such clashing emotions pulling both parties to their limits, you get something like: “I’ll kill you” vs. “Actually, I love you to death,” with limbs tied and torn until there’s nothing left but to mutter, “Now it’s all whatever…” That’s how madmen are forged.
I always found such irrational, ambiguous emotions fascinating, and I enjoyed reading that genre.
So, in conclusion:
After the original ending, the Saintess kept returning, trying to change their all-dead ending repeatedly, only to fail every time… until eventually, she was devoured by that insanely handsome beauty.
Gosh! If all the masters and connoisseurs of twisted stories had known this, they would’ve all become doctors in no time!
But to witness it, not through literature but in real life, like I was…
“Wow. This sucks.”
Mumbling to myself, I was startled when the man who had been Justina leaned in close, his finely chiseled features filling my view.
Sometimes his bangs swayed and softly grazed his eyes, brushing gently aside to reveal a flawless, smooth forehead.
“You’re not focused on me right now.”
His voice, tinged with his breath, wrapped around my ears.
I took a moment to appreciate the view.
Johann, Enrique, Marbas—they were all bearers of astounding looks. This man? With looks like that, he was cut from the same cloth.
I almost wanted to capture them all and stow them away in my pond.
“Perhaps I’m not your type? I’m rather good at this, though.”
With his head tilted, he offered a sly smile.
I fixed him with an appraising look, equipped with my aesthetic eye.
Chest—check. Shoulders—check. That lazy, sexy aura—check.
“Get undressed immediately—ah, no, I mean, let’s start with introductions.”
I cracked the whip at the wicked little demon inside me, regaining my composure.
“So… what am I supposed to call you?”
“Whatever you want. It’s not like we have names.”
“Would something like ‘Bun’ be okay?”
“Just call me El. Your naming skills are abysmal.”
“Since you insist, I’ll call you El, then…”
Suddenly, I had a gut feeling that this man, El, might somehow be linked to Marbas.
Clearly, he seemed like a demon infiltrating the Order. Justina must have made a pact with a demon to keep reincarnating.
Maybe he was even one of the five great demons.
“Do you know the Demon of Sloth, by any chance?”
If he really was a demon, this might be my chance to wrangle some more powers from him.
Even if he was just a high-ranking demon, there might be some useful abilities I could borrow.
But he narrowed his eyes, looking irritated.
“Why bring up another god in front of me? Trying to make me jealous?”
What on earth would make him jealous?
With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his golden hair.
“With hair like that, you must be descended from someone who made a pact with Sloth.”
He twirled a strand of my pink hair around his finger, studying me.
“If you were faced with choosing between a demon and a god, which would you pick?”
I thought of Marbas, with his undeniable allure and mature s*x appeal.
“Well, I’ve never seen a god directly, so I wouldn’t know.”
Feigning ignorance, I responded, watching him smile with a bewitching glint in his eye.
“You’re looking at one now. I’m the god governing this world.”
He claims he devoured the Saintess and took her body, but am I supposed to believe that?
I gave him a skeptical look.
“I don’t believe in gods. These days, anyone can claim they’re a god. Plenty of cultish types insist on it.”
He looked at me as if to say, “Why live without knowing the good things in life?”—his expression unbearably sympathetic.
“Hm, so you’re an atheist?”
I once doubted both gods and demons existed, but having seen a demon with my own eyes, I had confirmation they were real.
A god surely existed as well.
“I know they exist, but I don’t trust one would help me. So, did you give the Saintess the divine power to control empowered individuals?”
“Yes.”
He nodded simply.
And all the bitter memories of hardship, hunger, and witnessing the filth of humanity surged up within me.
“You miserable excuse for a god! It’s because of you I had to go through all that hell!”
“Huh?”
El propped his chin in his hand, giving me a languid, questioning look.
Wait. Whether he’s a god or not, he’s among the highest ranks of the Order and is powerful.
The world is run by power disguised as etiquette, and this man is squarely at its center. I needed to show some restraint.
“Allow me to perform a poem acrostic with your name.”
Naturally, I donned my best polite smile and humble tone.
“Take your time. I’ll undress as you recite.”
