†Chapter 2: An Anxious and Unsatisfying Morning†

 

 

 

†Chapter 2: An Anxious and Unsatisfying Morning†

 

RAIN pelts the ground just before daybreak, cleansing the world at its darkest　every single day. The flow of water blesses the earth with moisture and washes away any traces of the bloody hunts left by the beasts prowling the forests in the dead of night.

For humans, the rainfall becomes a silver curtain, concealing a criminal’s hidden crimes, an infant’s peaceful sleep, and a couple’s romantic tryst. And then, with the dawn’s light, the rains retreat. Such is the unbroken cycle, the never-changing promise between the heavens and the earth.

This is exactly why this world’s dawn is so incredibly beautiful—no matter what atrocities and absurdities will smear the day ahead.

†††

THE sound of a slow drip mingled with the heavy beat of raindrops. The dripping, accompanied by the familiar aroma of roasted beans, was far more relaxing than the downpour.

Oh… Euphemia grinned, her eyes still shut. I know this smell. It’s coffee, isn’t it? Did I set my coffeepot on a timer last night? I can’t remember. I really need a cup, but I’m so sleepy.

Her body felt heavy enough to sink into the bed.

I can sleep in. Today’s my first day off in a while, and I came back home in a giddy haze from my spectacular research results. Yup, I’ll just cuddle my favorite pillow and go back to sleep.

Euphemia rolled over in bed and snuggled up to her favorite pillow—or that’s what she attempted to do.

Hm? My favorite…pillow? She frowned without opening her eyes. It’s harder than I remember. And it’s got a weird shape.

Her pillow felt like a thick log drilled into the ground. It was smooth to the touch, but harder than a rock and had curves. She ran her hands down to where the log could conceivably branch out, and indeed, the solid object was connected to smaller, root-like objects. Euphemia sleepily contemplated what she was touching with her eyes still shut tight, forming deep creases in her brow. She was none the wiser that there was a pair of eyes carefully studying her.

Oh, I know! This isn’t a pillow, it’s a log! I’ve always wanted a long log-like pillow, but this is a pillow-like log! But what’s a log doing jutting out of my bed?

Euphemia’s eyes snapped open. Something hard was close enough for her eyelashes to brush against. What she had rubbed her cheek on definitely wasn’t a log despite the similar cylindrical shape.

Shocked awake, Euphemia assessed the object her arms were wrapped around. It was a well-built arm.

Oh my gosh! What is this?!

“You’re up?” a deep voice asked above her.

“Uh-heh?” she squeaked.

She craned her neck up to see the face of a half-naked man, much farther away than she thought, but still right above her. The man looked down at her from where he stood bent down with one hand thrust into the bed, and her hands were coiled around his muscular wrist. The awfully firm and solid thing she was feeling up had turned out to be his arm.

She stifled a cry and chucked away the arm. Naturally, it was impossible to throw an arm connected to a body. Sure enough, it didn’t budge, and Euphemia was sent rolling back from the momentum of her shove.

“Oh my gosh!”

Euphemia quickly scooted sideways on the bed to get away. The perfectly fitted sheets wrinkled under her. The man cocked his head, curious about her reaction, but he didn’t seem to mind his messed-up sheets or Euphemia’s awkward escape.

“The rain will let up soon,” he said abruptly and stood up straight, removing his hand from the bed. He had an incredible body that bodybuilders worked a lifetime to achieve and models tried to imitate with nano-sculpting.

Wh- Who? Who is he?!

Euphemia mustered what little self-control she had and swallowed a shrill scream. Thankfully, she managed to keep quiet, but her mind was in complete panic mode. Her body froze with her hands clutching the comforter so hard her knuckles turned white. The man didn’t move. The two stayed locked staring at each other for a long, silent pause.

“You’ve got nothing to fear. Though…I doubt saying that will help.”

More silence followed.

The teal eyes studying Euphemia had a sharp glint to them, but they didn’t strike her with dread. The man stayed perfectly still like a statue, his breathtaking muscles looked like they were chiseled from marble. It was as if he were trying to show her he meant no harm by not moving.

After a long silence, Euphemia’s nerves eased up a little. She finally relaxed enough to shift her eyes away from the man’s impeccable six-pack and take in her surroundings.

Stark-white walls made the spacious room bright in the half-light of early morning. Thanks to the light, Euphemia could see the man very well. His appearance was remarkably distinct in so many ways she found herself instinctively captivated by him.

Sharp features with a wild, almost animalistic bent were exquisitely arranged on his chiseled face. The glimmer in his teal-blue eyes was so alluring she couldn’t pry her eyes from them again.

His long hair fell past his shoulders and its stunning silver-gray color stood out all the more against his swarthy skin. His skin looked like freshly tanned leather stuck firmly to refined, corded muscles.

He was an attractive man with an imposing figure that cast a shadow across the room. He could’ve been a model, for all Euphemia knew.

Meanwhile, he stared intensely at her with a mystifying expression on his handsome face. His powerful eyes studied her. Neither spoke a word, captured in each other’s eyes.

Eventually, the man tore his eyes away from hers and turned to the side. He let out a small sigh and shook his head, then brought his left hand over his mouth as if deep in contemplation.

The gesture was neither curt nor violent, but Euphemia felt such unexplainable dismay that she needed to put as much space between her and the man as physically possible. She sat bolt upright.

“Excuse me…who are you? And where am I?” The voice sounded too frail to be hers, but Euphemia was relieved she was at least able to talk coherently at a time like this.

“The man who happened to save you. And this is my house for the time being,” a deep voice befitting of the man’s appearance quietly answered her.

While his tone sounded gentle, a brief flash of what looked like fangs peeked out from behind his lips when he spoke. Euphemia’s eyes opened as wide as physically possible.

“Saved me…? Ah!”

That’s right! I just remembered! How could it have slipped my mind until now? How did I end up in this man’s bed? It was because of last night, or rather what happened early this morning.

What happened several hours earlier came rushing back to her: the men who suddenly jumped out in the middle of the freeway; being threatened with a gun, pushed onto the brush, nearly raped, and then—

Euphemia reflexively wrapped her arms around herself in a tight grip. It did nothing to stop her from reliving the sensation of filthy fingers and tongues running over her skin. Nor did it stop the memory of their disgustingly hot breath against her earlobes or their vulgar snickers.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He put his large, solid hand on her shoulder, jolting Euphemia into the realization she was shaking so hard the bed trembled under her. Surprised, she lifted her head and came face to face with the unfamiliar man. He had bent his towering body to lean over the bed to assess her well-being.

I feel like I’ve seen these eyes before, but something’s different—right, they were glowing silver last night.

His eyes submerged her high-strung, panic-stricken heart in a cool, refreshing stream of pure water. Though his eyes had a cold color, they encased her in a warm blanket of kindness—the man’s eyes held that kind of power.

And the large hand he rested on her shoulder was very warm. She became unaware of the passage of time, engulfed in a mysterious exchange of chill and warmth as it slowly silenced the raging storm of fear that had threatened to swallow her whole only moments before.

The man patiently waiting for her shoulders to stop trembling suddenly caught her eye and stared in awe. “You have huge eyes. They’re unbelievably emerald.”

“Eh? Eyes? Ah. Did you save me?”

“Didn’t I just say so?” the man said dismissively, dropping his gaze from her eyes.

Following his lead, Euphemia lowered her gaze to her attire. She was still wearing the same pants, and a towel had been meticulously wrapped around her chest underneath the covers. She took a closer look to see her ripped blouse still clinging to her underneath the towel. In other words, aside from removing her shoes and wrapping her in a towel, this man hadn’t touched her.

Maybe he’s not a bad guy after all?

“Um…what happened to those men?”

“Beats me. They ran off somewhere. I don’t know who they are, and I don’t care. But I’d say with the way things went down they won’t be attackin’ you again.”

That was a given. One man had been thrown 5 mols into a cactus bush and abandoned his accomplice to flee with their only means of transportation, while the other had witnessed a wild Muta killed barehanded in front of him. Anyone who valued their life would do anything to avoid getting involved with this man again. While that was true, they hadn’t targeted Euphemia just because she had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“But they knew that I would be driving on that exact freeway at that exact time!”

“Do you always return to the city from the Wilds at that hour?”

“Not always. Last night was an exception…”

“It was more this morning than last night,” he corrected her. “Don’t do it again. If you want to live, that is.”

“I won’t.”

“……”

Euphemia’s eyes were still lowered to her clothing, so she hadn’t noticed the man’s eyes widen partially before he averted them.

“Well, I did send them off with a warning. They probably were lyin’ in wait to ambush you, but in my professional opinion, it likely won’t happen again. So you can relax for now and leave the rest to the police.”

Euphemia stayed quiet.

Did his warning have that strong of an impact among thugs and gangs? Euphemia couldn’t deny his inhuman strength. But going to the police meant informing her older sister. That was bad. Very bad. Then again, if someone out there had marked her as a target, things weren’t going to end with this one incident.

“What’s wrong?” the man asked when he saw her shoulders droop.

“Nothing. So, about that M-Muta…what happened to it?” she stuttered, changing the topic.

“You remembered that part? I’ve already taken care of it. You don’t have to know the details. Actually, forget the whole thing ever happened.”

In other words, the man had attended to all sorts of things since she had fainted.

What in the frontier worlds did he do with that Bijour? For that matter, what does he mean by, ‘I’ve already taken care of it.’ I doubt he kept it as a pet. Does he mean he just killed it and left its remains behind? Did he dispose of the body?

Euphemia was a biologist specialized in phytology. That meant she mostly worked with plants, but she worked with living things on a daily basis, regardless. Dealing with the corpse of a dangerous and rare specimen required filling out a lot of troublesome paperwork with city authorities. She hesitated to ask him how he did it in such short order—he probably wouldn’t answer her anyway.

“So, I know this is coming awfully late, but I want to thank you. Thank you for saving me,” Euphemia said nervously.

She was gradually coming to understand he didn’t mean her any harm—or rather, he had little interest in her and that made her feel just a smidge disappointed.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s something I did on a whim anyway. Go home once the rain lets up. I parked your car in front of the house.”

Euphemia watched him traverse the length of the room, uninterested in turning back to take another look at her. The man threw on a shirt he had tossed artlessly onto a chair. It was fitting that his every move attracted the eye like he was natural born movie star.

The tight, short-sleeved black shirt coiled around his thick neck, hugged his broad shoulders, and exposed his bulging arms. For all that, he had a trim waist, and his buttocks, Euphemia gauged, was probably tighter than hers. His leather pants clung to the well-defined muscles below his waist, and his long, toned legs ended in leather boots fitted with rivets.

His appearance was unmistakably that of a warrior.

Euphemia quickly tossed aside the comforter and scurried as close to the edge of the bed as her tightly wrapped towel would allow.

“But…wait! I don’t know where this is! Where exactly are we?” Euphemia asked as she frantically scoured her mind for the name she’d heard last night. “Um, er, M-Mister…Zel?” The man finally stopped and turned his neck, revealing a striking side profile.

“You remembered? You can just call me Zel. Leave off the honorifics.”

“That’s a pretty short name. Is it a nickname?” She doubted it was his full name. “I’m Eu—”

“Don’t! You don’t have to tell me.”

Euphemia’s eyes rounded when he impatiently interrupted her. “Sorry?”

“We’ll probably never meet again. Nothin’ good’ll come of you telling me your name. We’re in west Gothic City, District S. Take the road out of here to the east and you’ll come out on Middle Circle. This is the door to the bathroom, if you need it. Feel free to use it however you want. I left a change of clothes for you if what I have on hand is fine. I’ll get out of your way.”

The man said more in that one breath as he slowly retreated from the room than he had since they met. Once he reached the door, he poured coffee into a mug from the electric kettle set on top of the sideboard, and placed it on the table beside him. He hesitated by the door for some reason.

District S was an exclusive high-end residential area in Gothic City. Surprised, Euphemia took a good look around her. She hadn’t realized it before, but she was sitting on a king-sized canopy bed that was as the name implied: fit for a king. The furniture and appliances had a modern simplicity to them, but they were all top-end.

“Is this your place?” she asked, returning her gaze to him.

“You’re a nosy one. You’re not going to get anything by asking,” he muttered. “This is a spare house I normally don’t use. It’s not my place, it’s a rental. Drink some coffee if you want it. You don’t have to greet me again. Leave as soon as you’re done,” Zel stated bluntly, and left for real this time. The heavy wooden door with black varnish slowly closed, concealing the man in black behind it.

What’s his problem? The strength suddenly drained from Euphemia once she was left alone in the room. Who in the colonies is he? He didn’t seem like a bad guy. At any rate, I can’t stay like this.

Her blouse hung in shreds, her hair dangling in a tangled mess of half-braids. She carefully slid off the bed and headed for the door he had pointed out.

The equally spacious bathroom appeared immaculate with its pristine white walls. The daily rainfall would let up soon, signaling morning’s arrival to everyone who lived on planet. More than half the sky had grown bright with the coming dawn. The sun began to rise, the light of its newborn daybreak still shallow, like water at the river’s edge.

There weren’t any windows along the bathroom walls, but the ceiling had a skylight fitted with bars, where Euphemia watched the falling raindrops.

It was still dark, but she chose not to flip on the lights. The white bathroom would be filled with morning sunlight soon enough. Now that she stopped to think about it, the bedroom had large windows fitted with sturdy bars as well. Were steel bars part of the security package for the higher-end homes in District S? It seemed like an awfully outdated security measure for modern high-tech alternatives.

Wondering about it wouldn’t get her anywhere, so Euphemia quickly stripped off her clothes and cranked the shower faucet all the way to the right. Hot water gushed forth in a luxurious waterfall from the showerhead.

A big jetted tub rested invitingly next to the shower, but while she wanted to slowly warm herself up, she hesitated to use it. Brand new expensive-looking shampoo, conditioner, and soap lined the shower shelf embedded in the wall. Euphemia took a second look to see a bottle of bubble bath next to bath salts and bath oils with flowery fragrances arranged on the shelf. It was inconceivable for a man as gruff and brusque as Zel to buy a bathing product set like this, so Euphemia concluded that a rental manager must take care of the place.

She ripped the paper off a bar of rose-shaped soap and diligently scrubbed her body with a loofah cloth. The soft woven surface of the dual-textured loofah foamed with delicate bubbles. A flick of the nearby controls triggered the sonic scrubbers to cleanse her deep pours while she scrubbed the areas where the sleazebags touched her twice. Even raking the exfoliating side of the loofah over her skin wasn’t enough to help her forget the revolting sensation of their touch, but Euphemia preoccupied her thoughts with another matter. The best method to overwrite fear was to experience something more impactful. In her case, that requirement was fulfilled by her encounter with the sexy man shrouded in mystery, and her current baffling situation.

Those two extraordinary elements may have very well saved her from falling into a miserable state of mind normally inflicted upon anyone who had experienced assault. By the time she turned the shower and sonic scrubbers off, she felt like she had returned quite close to her usual state of mind.

Euphemia pulled an oversized bath towel from the closet and spread it out to find it was, as expected, a famous brand-name towel with material so soft it felt like clouds on her skin. The high-quality genetically modified cotton-like material rapidly absorbed the water from her skin and hair and cleaned the towel at the same time. She quickly rubbed on the lotion on the shelf and borrowed the Eau de Cologne for a spritz or two while she was at it. The refreshing citrus fragrance was subtle instead of overpowering.

Since her hair was still wet, Euphemia decided not to put it up. She was going to go straight home and take another shower with her own products anyway, one shower wasn’t enough to feel clean after what she went through, and so she wrote off doing anything with her hair. Next, she spread open the neatly folded shirt Zel had left on the shelf for her. It had to have belonged to him, because it was as big as a tablecloth with the arms spread out.

Wow, I thought it was going to be big, but this is huge! she mused, holding it against her chest to compare sizes.

Euphemia was on the petite side, but that only meant she was slightly shorter than the planet’s average adult woman. In spite of that, the black shirt went right past her thighs and stopped just above her knees. The width of the shirt was on the narrower side in comparison to its length, but two Euphemias could have easily fit inside it.

She had to fold the sleeves close to a dozen times before she finally saw her hands. But she paid its size little mind as she pulled on her underwear and knocked the dirt off her amazingly intact pants before pulling them on as well.

The bathroom lacked any makeup, so she slapped her cheeks in front of the mirror to give her overly white skin a temporary red tint. Then she combed her hair out more carefully than usual. Euphemia’s gorgeous blond hair, which was slightly darker than normal because it was wet, reached her waist. Although her thick hair shone and felt like silk, she didn’t particularly care for it. She always thought the color was too flashy.

Her similarly oversized eyes were vivid emeralds that looked like freshly grown spring moss, which gave others the impression that she was a frivolous blonde bimbo without any intelligence. That was the last impression she wanted people to have of her as a scientist.

Regardless of her woes, this was the face she was born with.

Euphemia gave up on getting all the knots out of her hair and put the brush down, picking up the towel she had used to give the wet bathroom a quick wipe down instead. She didn’t see a washing machine anywhere, so she tossed the wet towel into the basket sitting on the floor.

No one was in the bedroom when she returned. She was disappointed even though she expected it. Did her mystery man return to his own room to sleep? From what he told her, he went through a lot last night.

She wouldn’t achieve anything by thinking about him, so she picked up the mug of coffee he’d poured for her before she had gone into the shower. The coffee filling the big, heavy mug to the brim was kept warm by the mug’s internal heater. The hot bitter flavor stimulated her tongue and brain.

I wonder why he saved me. He said he did it on a whim… Why did he even know I was going to be attacked in the first place? Thinking about it more carefully, the whole thing sounded too good to be true.

Euphemia was starting to doubt if it was truly a coincidence that Zel had been driving his car past the same area of the freeway at that hour of the night. After all, not many people went outside city limits just before rainfall.

At least, not normal humans.

That said, Euphemia had also been outside the city at that hour. No one will be around—she had made light of the situation, thinking it was free from danger without people. Her foolish naivety over a perceived security was already deeply impressed upon her by those who tried to rape her, but if a powerless woman like herself could roam the Wilds, how could a man of superior physique and fighting technique doing the same be considered strange?

In retrospect, he had taken out two other armed men with less effort than it’d take to swat a fly.

He also single-handedly defeated the ferocious Muta as it leapt at him. Barehanded, too. That was not a human feat. And then there was one more out-of-place element Euphemia had confirmed with her own eyes.

In the darkest hour right before the rainfall, his eyes had glowed without a light source. They emitted a silver gleam.

Who in the world is he?

That question was all that filled her roiling thoughts.

†††

ZELAIDE stood by the second-story window watching the young woman walk toward the gate underneath the façade eaves.

A small Muta that had just returned from its hunt perched on his stone solid shoulder. About the size of a hawk, the bird-type Muta had been Zelaide’s sole family since he found the injured chick and fostered it. This species of Muta generally couldn’t be domesticated, except for the exceptionally rare occasion someone stumbled across an unhatched egg and didn’t accidentally kill it. Not that it mattered, since Zel had known nothing about raising a Muta from the outset.

“Look at that woman’s hair, Tipsy,” Zel spoke to the Muta lovingly nudging his cheek.

“Chwirk?” Tipsy cooed in response.

Under the morning light just after the rains, Euphemia’s wet hair shimmered like a crown. Zel had gently scooped up her hair out of curiosity while she slept on his bed, and discovered that her golden locks felt smoother than any of the most luxurious materials he’d ever touched. Silk and velvet had nothing on her hair.

The woman had thrown on the shirt he’d left out for her, and despite how laughably huge it was on her, she appeared mystifyingly dignified in his eyes. The luscious waves of hair she’d let down her back cascaded over his shirt like a golden river over black mud.

“Who knew such beautiful hair existed on this planet,” he murmured.

She shouted something in a loud voice from the foyer before she left for good. He couldn’t quite make out what she said because of the echo from the vaulted ceilings and the mezzanine, but from what he gathered, she was thanking him. As soon as he heard her voice, he left his bedroom, where he had confined himself, and returned to the room she had occupied until then. From that room he could look down on the front yard unseen behind the tall grove of trees out front.

The room had been neatly tidied up. She had also washed the coffee mug. While he felt a sense of unexplainable embarrassment over that, his sharp eyes picked up on the one mistake she had made. She left without the specs he had placed on top of the sideboard for her. The pair he had picked up off the summer grass last night.

Won’t she trip if she can’t see?

Zel swiftly scooped up the specs. He’d easily make it with time to spare if he ran right now. He held up the dainty frame fitted with light-purple hexagonal glass and looked through it.

What is this thing for? It’s just normal glass.

Exasperated, Zel dangled the frame in front of his face. He was aware that, unlike his indispensable need for black-tinted specs, some humans wore specs without a prescription for the sole purpose of fashion.

Why does she try to hide those beautiful eyes?

The woman’s bright emerald green eyes that looked like spring leaves against the sun was a rarity, even in the melting pot of different races known as Gothic City. Zel contemplated her unusual qualities, heedless of his own uniquely rare appearance. She had real blond hair and blemish-free porcelain skin. From any angle, he could tell she was a proper young lady from a good family who could afford generations of gene editing. But that wasn’t all there was to her.

Zel deeply inhaled.

The feisty woman hadn’t lost her pride when she’d been pushed down by her assailants. Instead, pure determination had filled her.

If Zel hadn’t noticed her eyes in that moment, he most likely would’ve never seen such a unique set of eyes in his lifetime. He would’ve never known the vivid emerald of the wide, hell-bent eyes staring at the blade meant to end her life. They had reflected brightly in the dead night, despite the fact that even he, who could navigate the dark with ease, couldn’t tell colors apart in the pitch-dark.

Now he felt extremely glad that those gorgeous eyes didn’t end up shut forever. He felt relieved to have made it in time. Even though he had thought nothing of her life up until the second he saw those eyes.

It doesn’t matter…this’ll be the first and last time we meet. She seemed like an authentic proper lady to me. I’d bet that’s why somebody’s targetin’ her. Probably just a kidnapping for ransom money. Those brainless thugs weren’t trained more than a monkey, and they called themselves Vermis. Probably just another one of the countless sleazy organizations infestin’ this city.

Zelaide’s heart grew heavier the more he thought about her. This was an exceedingly rare feeling for him, considering he had little interest in humans.

But why was that woman outside city limits at that hour?

Her location at that hour had been so unnatural that if they were relatives or close friends, he would’ve thoroughly grilled her about it. Even as strangers, he had almost questioned her.

He wondered what type of organization she belonged to. Extensive agricultural farms and large-scale factories did exist in the city outskirts. However, every farmstead, ranch, and factory was equipped with strictly managed residences for their overnight employees, which ruled out working there as a possible factor for why the pretty young lady was driving down the freeway in the dead of night.

What a strange, mysterious woman. She’s done a hell of a job throwin’ me off my game.

Zel’s instincts were screaming at him in warning—he mustn’t get further involved with the woman. And his instincts had saved him countless times, and he trusted the intuition that kept him alive. Or more precisely, his intuition was all he could trust.

 

Polished gravel was laid out in the front yard instead of a manicured lawn. He had switched out the lawn for gravel to make it impossible for any attackers to hide the sound of their footsteps should they invade his territory from the outside. He had parked her white car in a corner at the end of the gravel path. Her tiny shoes crunched the stones below.

And then the woman’s foot caught on the gravel and she pitched forward. Her damp blonde hair flew around her.

“Idiot. What are you doing?”

Is she blind without her specs after all?

Zelaide instinctively reached out his arms to catch her, even though the window frame was the only thing in front of him. His sudden movement surprised Tipsy into flapping its long wings. Zelaide’s silent prayer must have come true, because the woman caught her balance just in time and sheepishly laughed at herself before putting her hand on the car door.

Wow. She’s laughing at herself…

He remembered how she had smiled softly right before she awoke too. She was so full of life that he found himself unintentionally enthralled by her.

But she looked pretty nervous when her eyes snapped open and she found herself face to face with him. He couldn’t fault her for it. She had been violated by filthy thugs, had narrowly escaped an attack by the ferocious Muta, and to top it all off, she had lost consciousness and woken up next to him.

Any normal woman would’ve fainted again. Zel knew all too well what others thought of his appearance.

His height and muscles were easily twice the size of an average human male, his skin swarthy. He found coordinating colors took too much effort, so he always wore black clothes, lurking as a dark mass even in the daytime. His purposely unmaintained, long ashen hair stood in stark contrast to the rest of him as it fell from his head in random directions.

And then there were his callous teal-blue eyes suffused with a sharp glint.

There wasn’t a soul who wouldn’t look away when he locked his eyes intently upon them. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t glaring at them. Ordinary, weak humans intrinsically discerned the dangerous aura around him and were careful not to look at or approach him while keeping a wary eye on him from a distance.

On the other hand, plenty of people approached him solely because of his idiosyncratic looks. The majority were creeps with shady histories and disturbing fetishes. After all, Zelaide’s appearance made decent citizens tremble in their boots just from looking him in the eyes.

Most women would normally fear the worst for their chastity if they woke up with a beast of a man like him hovering over their bed. As it was, he’d tried his best not to look or touch her more than absolutely necessary.

He intentionally kept the conversation to the bare minimum in order to avoid scaring her any further. Yet, despite shrinking back from him with nervousness and suspicion, she had been very expressive. She had earnestly taken his advice to heart and looked ashamed of her foolish choice. He could’ve asked her a lot more, but he assumed she must’ve been exhausted, so he quickly ended the conversation and left the room to let her rest more comfortably.

From what he observed from the window, she had successfully used the shower and didn’t seem to be cowering with fear. They hadn’t broken into her car and he’d made sure her stuff wasn’t stolen, so he hoped she was able to breathe a little easier now.

She’s a woman with an insane amount of grit and resolve that you’d never guess just by lookin’ at her. But this is goodbye. I’ll never see you again.

Just when Zelaide thought she was going to enter her car, the woman swung her head over her shoulder with her hand resting on the door.

She looked up at him, squinting against the bright morning sunlight after the rain. He assumed she was checking out the building she was taken to. It was the obvious thing to do. The gate and fence didn’t have a nameplate or address number on them, but she’d immediately know her whereabouts when she came out on Circle Line after driving some 200 mols down the main road.

She might come back another time to pick up the specs she forgot or to say thanks. There’s a high chance she will if she’s the daughter of a fancy family. I’m in big trouble if she does. I should probably leave this place for a while.

Truth be told, Zelaide knew he should’ve escorted her home after the frightening experience she went through. He hesitated to offer because it was wrong for a savage-looking man like him to know where she lived, and he knew the situation would be unpleasant in the off-chance her family spotted him. This house was located in a rich and exclusive neighborhood, so he knew she would be safe on her way back. It was a bad idea to throw either her life or his further into disarray beyond what had already happened.

Luckily for Zelaide, jobs came for him without pause no matter where he was, and he hadn’t heard any rumors recently about the Huntsman showing up. His pockets were lined with more than enough cash. Disappearing for a few days wouldn’t be a problem since he could contact his agent Palmina whenever he wanted.

Well, this is probably the last I’ll see of her. Even if she comes for her specs, she’ll give up and leave as soon as she learns I’m out. But I guess I’ll get outta here for a while just in case.

Zelaide scratched the pterosaur’s chin as he forcefully closed the lid over the incomprehensible sense of loss he felt.

“Tipsy, mind sending her off in my stead?”

“Chwirk?” Tipsy cooed in response.

“Come back and let me know if anything happens to her. Though from the look of it, I might just be overthinkin’ things.”

The woman glared his way for a while, but eventually scrunched her face up in a big scowl and stuck her red tongue all the way out before quickly slipping into her car. Zel doubted she saw him, though her head was angled right at him.

What was that just now? Zelaide unknowingly raised the corners of his lips. She didn’t break. She hasn’t lost that drive to deny her attackers victory one bit. I doubt we’ll ever meet again.

But that’s for the best.

The engine roared to life and the white car took off, spraying gravel behind it. Zelaide saw her turn her head sideways to look back just before she drove out of the gates, and he instinctively jumped away from the window.

The sound of the vrooming car faded into the distance.

Tipsy soared high into the sky.

She left.

He deliberately hadn’t asked for her name. She’d been about to tell him herself, but he’d rushed to stop her. Nothing would come of her telling him her name. He pretended not to hear the whisper inside that said he should’ve asked her. Not knowing each other’s identity was how it was supposed to be, and it was for the best. Gorgeous blonde hair and emerald eyes. The red tongue she’d stuck out under the bright sunlight left a strange afterimage lingering with him.

She colored his world for but a moment, and that moment instantly fell to the past. That’s all their encounter was.

Zel smiled dryly and left the window.

†††

“THANK you for saving me! You really helped me out!” Euphemia’s voice echoed up the modern vaulted ceiling through the mezzanine. “Hello? Zel? How about you show yourself just once? I’m trying to say a proper goodbye before I leave!” She raised her voice even louder but her high-pitched shout only bounced off the walls, failing to bring even a shadow of the man dressed in all-black out into the open.

Euphemia threw the front door open and shouted over her shoulder one last time to be sure, “I really will just go straight home! Are you okay with that?!”

Naturally, her shout elicited no response, infuriating her to the point she slammed the heavy door behind her in a fit of anger. Unfortunately, not even her little tantrum caused anything to happen.

What’s his problem?! I get it, he doesn’t want anything more to do with someone like me. Good-for-nothing jerk! I’m a pitiable woman who just barely survived murder! A gentleman would’ve escorted me home! Or at least to the car!

For all her blustering, Euphemia more than knew that was a selfish wish on her half. Her foolish actions had put her in danger, and Zelaide had never tried to appeal to her as a gentleman. Whether he was a gentleman or not, she thought his actions spoke volumes about his kindness, as he had not only saved her, but also brought her back to his home to rest. She didn’t know how he had done it, but he’d also guaranteed her safety from those scoundrels.

Euphemia understood that much at least. It was just the irrational side of her that she couldn’t control that was making her feel annoyed.

I’ll start to hate myself if I keep these selfish thoughts up…

Crestfallen, she dropped her shoulders and kicked the gravel as she crossed the diligently maintained front yard until she came out where Zel said she would find her car. He had neatly parked her car underneath a large tree beside the gate leading out of the property.

How did he transport her car back to his house after he chased away the two men? Considering the situation, he’d had his own car, and while she didn’t want to think about it, the Bijour’s corpse to transport, so how had he gotten her car here too? Though his identity was already shrouded in mystery as it was, there were just too many baffling elements surrounding him.

I have to look him up as soon as I get home—Whoa!

Euphemia’s foot caught on the polished marble gravel and she nearly fell flat on her face. She barely stuck her other foot out in time to keep herself from toppling over, but it was quite the ugly save. It aggravated her, but she started laughing despite herself when she realized she had pulled it off because she was wearing shoes with low heels.

Her car showed no signs of being damaged or ransacked. The purse she had chucked into the back seat sat there, just as she left it. She opened the door through the fingerprint authentication lock, slid into the car on her small behind, and then gazed up at the building she had been inside for the past few hours.

“Wow.”

It was a luxurious white stucco, two-story house that was neither too large nor too small. Surrounded by just the right amount of space, the yard was landscaped with beautiful trees being tended to by several hovering drones.

The only part that bugged Euphemia was the sturdy bars equipped on every window, including those on the second-story, but they weren’t ugly enough to ruin the beauty of the home, and she could be convinced of their necessity as a security measure in this city.

Didn’t he say this wasn’t his house though?

Euphemia certainly didn’t think her mystery man would pick this picturesque house as his residence. He’d told her it was a rental, but did he live there alone? All of the toiletries left out were unused premium products. Did he have a proper housekeeper?

Or maybe a woman takes care of him. He looks kind of scary at first, but he doesn’t seem like a bad guy, and it wouldn’t be so strange for a man with an incredible body like him to have a patron or two funding his life… Right?

Though Euphemia didn’t really understand why, she screwed her face up in a big scowl, and while she was at it, turned toward the house and stuck her tongue all the way out.

Feeling a little better, she started her car as if that would break her free of her brooding. She only now realized that her car was the only one parked at the house. What happened to his car? The house didn’t have a garage, but it wasn’t like Euphemia walked around the entire property, so she wasn’t sure where else it could be. She couldn’t fathom the man going anywhere without a car.

The car engine roared to life and gravel shot up behind it. The property gates opened automatically. She twisted her neck to see if the house had any identifying markers from the driver’s seat, but naturally there wasn’t a lot number anywhere; not even a mail-delivery-drone box existed.

He’s shrouded in mystery in every way! I’ll commit this house’s location to memory one way or another, so it doesn’t matter!

Euphemia didn’t want to linger now that she had left, so she stepped on the gas and floored it out of there.

The residential road wasn’t very wide, but there was little pedestrian traffic because of the early-morning hour. Expensive residences lined both sides of the road, in rows of compact luxury homes instead of massive mansions. Perhaps it was best understood as a wealthy neighborhood where retired elderly couples enjoyed living out the rest of their lives in comfort. Either way, it wasn’t the kind of neighborhood a man who exuded the exciting and alluring air of danger like Zel would choose to live.

Euphemia immediately came out on Middle Circle Line after driving for a few minutes, allowing the automated systems to take over after she set her destination. Middle Circle Line was the road in the center of the three circular routes concentrically surrounding Gothic City. Center Circle ran the inner route and Out Circle ran the course outside of it. The area within Out Circle was the so-called Uptown, where people from the middle-upper classes lived, and where many business offices, government administration buildings, cultural facilities, and universities were concentrated.

Downtown was located along Out Circle’s exterior route, where the majority of low-income citizens lived and the normal residential areas and small-scale factories had been built. Like cities all over, there were dangerous, corrupt neighborhoods and blocks here and there in Downtown, but the affluent-at-a-glance Uptown was also considered a hotbed of crime. They just hid it better. For that reason, it was the unwritten law of the planet that everyone protected themselves regardless of age, gender, and wealth.

Beyond the city’s towering walls were the Plains, which were often called the Wilds because of the roaming Muta.

Gothic City considered a circumference of 20 kyros around its walls as part of its territory, and that was where well-maintained large-scale factories and farmsteads expanded their businesses. Their products were consumed within the city, with the excess distributed to other cities. However, despite its technical definition as a part of the city, farming, manufacturing, and production at the outside facilities were almost always done during the day except under extreme or special circumstances.

In that sense, Euphemia had committed the worst possible mistake ever. Even small children from Downtown knew not to go outside city walls after the sun set.

I had to! I just had to! This opportunity only comes once a year! I had no choice! It never even crossed my mind that something like that could happen… I think it’s reasonable to say it’s their fault. Sure, Erica might have a point calling me a rash person incapable of seeing anything around me. Now, I can agree it would’ve been a better choice to have just stayed the night at the official lodging provided by work, but…

Euphemia gently turned the steering wheel to the right switching from autodrive to manual. Her car was steadily approaching a part of the city she recognized. Before she knew it, the night had completely dawned into a new day.

I couldn’t resist what a momentous occasion last night marked.

Last night, she had reveled in the beauty of the flowering Night Blooms cultivated in the laboratory greenhouse for her research.

Night Bloom flowers blossomed simultaneously on a midsummer night, only once a year.

As the name suggested, the thin petals emitted a pale light at night, creating a magical world of their own under the moonlight. Unfortunately, the delicate flowers withered the same night they bloomed. From its seeds, it was possible to refine the most hallucinogenic narcotic in the plant world.

Handling the plant was considered a serious taboo for obvious reasons, and the cultivation and distribution of it was strictly forbidden in the colonies. Years of research had managed to weaken its toxicity, opening it up to medical use under close supervision, but even that was limited to the Night Blooms cultivated by government-controlled research facilities and laboratories like Euphemia’s workplace.

Last night was the only day they’d bloom this year.

I waited a whole year for this one night. I stayed the last three nights at the Dome until I was finally able to observe, for the first time, the moment a room full of Night Blooms opened.

When the moonlight had struck the tempered glass dome, the flower buds slowly unfurled. Before long, the dome had been filled with countless pale-flower lanterns, and the flowers swayed as if conversing under the ventilation system aimed on them to encourage pollination. It was an artificially made landscape, but the magical spectacle mesmerized Euphemia nonetheless.

Euphemia was a junior researcher at the Municipal Biotechnology Research Institute’s Applied Plant and Animal Research Laboratory. The top researchers of the laboratory studied plants and lichens that were useful to humans, including research on how to reduce Night Bloom’s toxicity, which Euphemia focused on as the core of her research.

The institute only cultivated the amount necessary for medical and research purposes, but Night Bloom was an endemic, annual plant species that could grow anywhere on the planet in the right environment, so it wasn’t surprising that people bypassed the strict regulations to secretly cultivate and circulate the narcotic plant on the black market.

The narcotic drug refined from Night Bloom seeds was popularly called Nightz.

Nightz had a strong hallucinogenic and tonic effect, with high dependency and addiction rates capable of breaking a person in a mere three months of regular use. Though it was self-evident that the government severely cracked down on the drug, there were endless loopholes in the system put in place on a frontier planet ruled by dazzling beauty and controlled chaos.

Nightz slipped through the system by changing its name and concentration to thoroughly permeate the lower levels of society.

As a general rule, Night Blooms were only observable in research facilities. The bewitching flower was so strictly withheld from society that Euphemia had only ever seen one specimen stalk in her university’s botanical garden during her college days. She had wanted to see one bloom ever since and jumped at the opportunity to record the flowers’ growth over the past week since they first sprouted buds. She wound up staying the past three days at the laboratory, but it was well worth it because she had at long last observed the Night Blooms flower from beginning to end.

Most of the other researchers on nightshift with her were veterans who were already used to the blooming, even though it only happened once a year. Hence, while they hung out with Euphemia to partake in her excitement, it wasn’t a big event to them, and they headed straight to the institute’s lodging to sleep when the blooming period had ended and the flowers began to wither. But sleep eluded Euphemia who hopped in her car to drive home with her bubbling excitement at the forefront of her mind. Needless to say, she regretted what had happened after that.

I mean, yeah it was stupid, but it was my first time being away from my apartment for three whole days. I just knew Mrs. Mayo wouldn’t keep her mouth shut if I didn’t come back soon, and things were only going to get more complicated if she tattled on me to Erica.

Euphemia normally returned home at a regular time, and the reason for that was her half-sister from a different mother. Her older sister Erica, the mayor of Gothic City, felt a strong sense of obligation toward her younger half-sister and she became incredibly annoying if Euphemia failed to contact her regularly.

Busy even at the best of times, Erica shouldered a heavy responsibility as mayor of one of the most populated cities on the planet, and it was Euphemia’s firm belief that she didn’t have to take on the burden of caring for her younger sister on top of that. But Erica’s favorite saying was, “There’s just us two sisters to look after each other,” and she had taken it to heart by deciding where Euphemia would work upon graduation. She had even objected when Euphemia said she wanted to rent her own place. It had taken persistent, calculated persuasion to change her mind.

“If you feel that strongly about it, fine. You’re an adult now, so I can allow as much as living alone. But you will live in the place of my choosing. That’s my condition.”

There was definitely a part of Euphemia that thought her sister was abusing her authority, but thanks to that, not only was she able to immediately move into a comfortable apartment complex in a safe neighborhood, but whatever actions the mayor had taken had landed her a job with little to no overtime or nightshifts. It wasn’t unusual for workplaces to be considerate of sparing young women who worked in the city outskirts from the danger of late hour shifts, but it was basically guaranteed for Euphemia when the mayor went out of her way to earnestly request it.

Thanks to her sister’s influence, she hadn’t been asked to work overtime once—until three days ago. And even that was more because her desire to observe Night Blooms in all their glory had propelled her to convince her boss, the laboratory director, into reluctantly granting her permission to stay. The lab technicians might’ve been surprised to discover Euphemia missing from the lodging in the morning, if they didn’t just write it off as her leaving early for her day off, but never in their wildest dreams would they think she had fallen victim to assault.

In other words, the only people who knew that Euphemia had been attacked by sicko thugs were her and the man called Zel.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing? It’s hard to say…

She turned a corner and drove into a familiar area.

As to be expected at this hour, the number of people out and about had increased in the district located in the outlying area of Uptown, where many students and researchers lived. Some of the best schools, art galleries, museums, large theaters, and libraries called this district home, too.

But I have to be careful not to disregard the things I need to reflect on. And I need to think about it carefully!

Euphemia squeezed the steering wheel as she reviewed her actions and what she could’ve done better to avoid future mistakes. She arrived in front of her apartment still in introspection, and parked her car in the designated space before rushing up to her room on the third floor.

Euphemia’s apartment was located in a new building, and her unit had two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a separate bathroom.

Best of all, the security was tight. She couldn’t have rented an apartment like this right away under normal circumstances. It frustrated her to no end, but she knew she was blessed, thanks to her older sister. She was also aware of the fact that she wasn’t living as independently as she liked to believe. Euphemia strove to be objectively self-aware.

I just want to rest for now.

She unlocked her front door and was welcomed by the familiar interior, the furniture and knickknacks picked to her taste, the earthy fragrance of the herbs she hung by the window. Just seeing the familiar objects blanketed her in a sudden sense of security, and her exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks.

Not only had she been pulling all-nighters, but she’d only gotten two hours of sleep in that man’s house. Today was her day off and she didn’t have any engagements, so she planned to take it easy until Mrs. Mayo showed up in the evening. Although Euphemia had urgent matters to think about, such as why she had been attacked and who had hired those men, she knew it was impossible to think straight without revitalizing herself.

This district received an A-class safety rating, guaranteeing its safety. Plus, the man who’d saved her said she should be okay for the time being.

Feeling like she wanted to wash the feel of them off her again, Euphemia went into the bathroom and filled the bathtub with hot water. She was consciously trying not to think about it, but being violated by those men had deeply scarred her, especially with the trauma still so fresh in her mind.

“What the heck…?” Euphemia unintentionally gasped when she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the separate shower to rinse off first.

She hadn’t realized it when she’d borrowed the shower at Zel’s house in the dark, but looking at herself in the bright bathroom lights revealed marks where they had touched her, gruesome marks left behind by their fingers and crushing grip. They had left behind red, blue, and purple bruises that stood out distinctly on her white skin.

“Ugh…” Bile rose up from her stomach. A sudden, intense wave of nausea hit Euphemia.

It was the fear she had subconsciously shoved back because she didn’t want to look weak in front of her mystery man. But the human body was more honest than the mind. The moment her brain’s avoidance response was lifted, the fear and revulsion came flooding back at the same time her nervous tension melted away.

Euphemia crouched on the floor and threw up. The coffee she drank earlier that morning turned into disgusting brown vomit as it spilled onto the shower tile. The hot water immediately washed it away, allowing her to throw up even more without worrying about it. Her body was wracked with the shakes, but she still didn’t care.

Forget it! I won’t fall apart over something like this! I just have to throw it all up!

Hot water continued pouring on top of her head, but her limbs felt abnormally icy.

After throwing up all the contents of her stomach, Euphemia turned off the shower and sluggishly submerged into the bathtub. Hot water filled the tub, but it still took a few minutes before she felt her hands and feet warm up. Euphemia pressed a button and added even more water while triggering the deep clean mode for the sonic scrubbers. She let the hot gush of water and ticklish vibrations run over her.

That reminds me…that man’s hand was warm too.

Euphemia thought of the big hand he had placed on her shoulder. He hadn’t stroked her back or tried to soothe her with a gentle touch, but had softly left it there until the shudders from the verge of being swallowed whole by her fear abated.

If he had rubbed the areas where those pigs touched me, it might have acted like a disinfectant… No, that’s a bad idea.

She jumped out of the hot water as if trying to leave her stupid thoughts behind. Still, there was a piece of her that found some support in that feeling. It helped her get through her second panic attack in peace as strange as the thought was.

It’ll work out…somehow.

Euphemia quickly toweled off and reached out to retrieve her pajamas from the shelf, but she dropped her hand to the ground instead to pick up the black shirt she’d just tossed off. She put it back on; the feeling of being wrapped up in the oversized garment gave her an odd sense of peace.

She bound her hair and crawled into bed, where sleepiness washed over her out of nowhere. Euphemia realized at last just how exhausted she was.

The big shirt draped freely around her body, enveloping her in its dry touch. The freshly washed shirt didn’t have a smell, but she buried her chin in the large neckline for comfort anyway.

“Zel… Zelaide.”

When should I go return this to him…?

In the moments before she fell into the grips of sleep, Euphemia’s thoughts centered on those silver-blue eyes emerging in the darkness as the beacon of light that saved her.