Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 105
Before the chef’s teeth could sink into him, Alan bent forward and rolled across the floor.
In an instant, their positions were reversed. The chef, having missed Alan, slammed his face into the table and thrashed amidst the shattered pieces of glass.
Alan dropped to one knee, panting as he prepared for his next move. He could hardly believe how quickly he had dodged the attack.
The chef quickly regained his senses, shaking his head violently before rising. His small, beady black eyes locked onto Alan.
Alan jabbed his fingers into the long cut on his arm, where blood had started to ooze out in droplets. Blood flowed from the gaping wound like water from a cracked pipe.
“Come at me.”
The chef’s shoulders heaved. Like a bull provoked by the sight of red, the chef charged at full speed.
“I’m not going down that easily today.”
Alan swiftly jumped back. The chef slammed face-first into the blood-splattered floor where Alan had just stood. Alan noticed the chef’s skin turning a deeper shade of red.
This pattern repeated several times. The chef charged, and Alan narrowly dodged. The chef’s blunt teeth grazed Alan’s skin more than once, leaving streaks of blood on the floor. Alan’s breathing grew ragged.
‘For the Miss to escape…’
It might be best to step outside the kitchen for a moment.
Alan lured the chef toward the exit. Just before throwing himself into the hallway, he yelled with all his might,
“Run! I’ll follow you!”
Did she hear him? She had to have heard him.
There was no time to check. The chef’s massive jaws came down once more, and Alan flung himself into the hallway’s darkness.
Even as he dodged, his mind worked frantically. If he was going to lure the chef away, he needed to head in the opposite direction of the passage they had used to enter the basement. That would buy Richelle Howard enough time to escape.
This was the first time his brain had worked at such a feverish pace. Of course, a dead person doesn’t need to use their brain. Someone who has given up on life has no need to think.
Until now, Alan Otis had been little more than a corpse. He had already abandoned life.
So what about the current Alan Otis?
Why was he fighting so desperately to survive? Death, the very thing he had wished for so earnestly, was now so close, its jaws wide open. So why wasn’t he willingly throwing himself into it?
Let go. Stop thinking.
Then, at last, you can grasp eternal peace. You can uproot the evil that has caused so much suffering and ensure Richelle Howard reaches the safest place.
If you die. If only you die.
If only I die.
The chef’s teeth grazed his ankle. Alan lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. His legs felt weak.
But he got back up.
Suddenly, a voice seemed to ask, Alan Otis, do you want to live now? Are you struggling because you want to survive? How dare you?
Alan clenched his teeth. I don’t know. I don’t know.
Despair is more stubborn than the darkest clouds. It doesn’t easily disappear, even when the sun shines or the wind blows. It constantly looms overhead, weighing life down.
Even if I leave this mansion with Richelle Howard, I will carry this despair for the rest of my life.
And yet, despite all that.
Alan felt a spark of curiosity bloom within him.
He was curious about the world Richelle Howard saw with those sprout-green eyes. He wondered what it would be like to spend days with her.
Curiosity might be humanity’s greatest sin and punishment. It drives people to reject eternal rest and continue walking through despair.
He was not sure if he truly wanted to live. Still, Alan decided to take a step forward. He would keep fighting, shouldering the weight of his despair, battling against its crushing force.
Even if just for a fleeting moment, I want to walk by your side.
Richelle Howard. The green-eyed savior who suddenly stepped into my despair.
I’ve already been blinded by the light you showed me.
Now, I have no eyes to see despair. But I can still feel that green light shining brightly.
And so Alan Otis found the strength to run.
Toward survival, as every living being on this earth does.
Just as every light has a shadow, and every shadow has light, no matter how black the despair, there must be a pure white hope nearby.
“Ugh!”
Alan’s body slammed into the wall. He had reached a dead end.
With his vision fading from exhaustion, he saw the chef staggering toward him. The creature’s sagging skin looked even more deflated. Was the monster also running out of energy?
‘Teacher, you must have escaped safely by now.’
Even though death was looming right in front of him, Alan didn’t feel particularly anxious. Bertrand’s master didn’t want him dead. He would undoubtedly come to save him just before he died, as he had before.
‘But I hope he gets here before I lose all my limbs…’
That way, he would still be able to think of another escape plan.
The gaping maw of the chef opened wide above him. Its yellowed teeth gleamed like the blade of a guillotine. Hot, saliva mixed with blood dripped onto Alan’s pale face.
Alan closed his eyes.
At that moment.
“Get lost! You bastard!”
A furious shout echoed, almost like a hallucination. A cold liquid splashed over Alan’s body.
Alan’s eyes flew open. For a moment, he couldn’t believe what he saw.
The chef, who had been looming over him, was melting away like ice cream.
“What the…”
Soon, the chef’s entire form collapsed, covering Alan in a gooey substance, like a runny jelly.
Amid the sticky, suffocating discomfort, Alan finally saw who had shouted.
It was Richelle Howard.
His disheveled savior stood there, panting heavily, holding a massive bucket in her hands.
