Villain, Let Me Touch You! - Chapter 8
I’m not a pervert! Silently protesting within, I timidly followed behind him.
Helios’s bed was very large and ornate. It seemed spacious enough for five palace attendants to lie down comfortably. Golden pillars stood at each corner of the bed, while the canopy draped over provided moderate protection from the sun and wind.
Helios lay there quietly. He resembled a beautiful sleeping princess… No, a prince.
It was just a quick check, but my hands were sweating, either because of the bed or because Helios was so handsome.
What if the writing doesn’t pop up like before?
There were too many reasons for my heart to flutter.
“What are you doing?” Helios raised an eyebrow. I could see him growing impatient.
I took a deep breath and placed my hand on his thigh.
Suddenly, the words appeared without fail.
Migraine, temperature 37.5 degrees Celsius, low-grade fever.
“Is your head hurting? On the left side?” I asked.
Helios eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”
“You’re running a fever, too.”
“Can you feel the fever from the thigh?”
Since a fever usually causes the whole body to feel warm, his statement wasn’t entirely incorrect. However, I could determine his exact temperature.
“It’s not that hot. You’re running a low-grade fever, so drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.”
“Really?” His voice softened considerably.
“What?”
“You said you could determine my condition by touching my thigh.”
“Uh, um, yes!”
I don’t know if it was just his thighs, but when I touched him, I could discern his symptoms. Conversely, when he touched me, I saw nothing.
Helios fixed his gaze on me, as if trying to gauge the veracity of my words. I forced a strong smile towards him, remembering the saying that one cannot spit at a smiling face.
“It seems like indigestion,” he said about his symptoms, which seemed to signal newfound trust in me.
Pleased with this trust, I smiled proudly and asked, “You’re having trouble with digestion?”
“Yeah, and my arm hurts a bit too. I fell down yesterday and hit the floor with my arm.”
“May I take a look?” I reached out, but he coldly pulled his arm away. “Your Highness, I need to examine you to give a diagnosis.”
“You said you could tell just by touching my thigh. Try it.”
He wasn’t trusting me; he was testing me. No wonder this was working out so easily.
“Go ahead, touch it. The thigh,” he urged. When I hesitated, he jostled his thigh as if mocking my hesitation.
With an uneasy feeling, I grasped his rock-solid thigh. The appearing text remained the same.
Migraine, temperature 37.5 degrees Celsius, low-grade fever.
I couldn’t see the symptoms he was describing. Should I trust my sudden abilities, or should I believe Helios’s words? It was a profound dilemma since this might be my last chance to gain his confidence.
I racked my brains, striving to determine if Helios’s mentioned symptoms were indeed accurate. Initially tense, Helios now leaned back with his arm behind his head, observing me with a relaxed gaze.
He seemed to enjoy watching me struggle.
“Quack,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“Pervert.”
“I’m really not.”
“Then diagnose properly. I have a stomach ache, and my arm hurts.”
I didn’t believe him. But what if, by some chance, he was truly in pain?
The novel never mentioned anything about these powers.
What if I was just hallucinating in my desperation to save him?
“Hey,” Helios called out to my wavering self. His voice was as icy as when he first told me to get out. “You’re a liar. Get lost.”
He pushed himself off the bed.
“No!” Without even realizing it, I gripped his thigh tightly. The same text appeared before my eyes.
After seeing the same words for the umpteenth time, I was starting to believe in my newfound ability.
Oh well, I don’t know anymore.
“Y-You’re the liar, Your Highness! I know you’re faking the stomach ache and arm pain. I’m going to give you headache medicine, and you can take it!” I yelled, but looking at Helios’s face was terrifying beyond words.
I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the apothecary before he could catch me.
“Stop her!” The echo of Helios’s lion-like roar thundered behind me.
Oh no. I wonder if any other transmigrator died faster than what the plot intended. If there were a Transmigrator’s Guinness World Record, would I be listed as ‘Fastest to Die Before Plot-Scheduled Demise.’
As soon as I entered the dispensary, I slammed my head on the desk.
Then, the door suddenly creaked open. There was Helios, standing like the Grim Reaper.
“Give me the medicine.”
But this Grim Reaper seemed a little strange. Instead of asking for my life, he asked for medicine?
