Chapter 34

The bullets flying in all directions, the screams of agony, the red blood, the scattering limbs and parts of bodies.

Death, death, and death again.

Amidst the shards of rubble, someone called out to God. No, everyone cried out to God.

But the man knew. Before long, all the noise would be gone and the world would be hushed.

That all that would remain on the scorched earth would be blood, charred remains, and a man standing alone.

God does not save humans. It was only humans that could save humans.



“Master.”

The servant’s call was so small that it was hard to believe it was meant to wake someone up.

But Demus opened his eyes in response to the small voice. He couldn’t even fall asleep in the first place, so it was natural. He likely slept for only an hour or two.

“I have prepared the water for your wash.”

Said the servant, bending politely, and stepping back. Demus then was left alone in the spacious bedroom.

The faintly brightening dawn sky could be seen beyond the curtains which the servant had quietly tidied up. Demus, who had checked the outside, slowly raised himself. His upper body, which had been covered, came into view as the blanket slid down.

Under the loosely worn nightgown was bare flesh, with old scars resting on some of the exposed flesh.

Demus, who held his throbbing head, swept his hair up irritably with his left hand. Soft platinum strands brushed between his fingers and tickled his scars.

It wasn’t just the scars between his fingers. All the hideous marks left all over his body itched every moment. Sometimes he felt pains that shouldn’t be there, and sometimes he thought he smelled blood. A look of irritation crossed Demus’ face.

He strode roughly to the bathroom.

The bath prepared by the servant was moderately warm. He took off his nightgown and tossed it aside, then stepped into the tub. There was no one to assist Demus in taking a bath because he hated showing his bare skin to anyone. In the silence, the water warmed his body as it scrambled out of the tub.

His cold body temperature at least seemed to rise a little. Draping his arms roughly over the tub’s rim, Demus threw his head back and let out a long sigh.

In the rippling water lay a man’s muscular body.

If it weren’t for the scars all over his body, no one would have denied that this body was a perfect specimen of sculpture. Even if he brought all the statues he had collected so far, there would be no better body than his.

If it weren’t for the scars.

If it wasn’t for that battle.

No, then he had to blame too many things. His ability, status, origin, blood…

In order to erase his dizzy thoughts, Demus came up with another topic. Feeling he was getting relaxed thanks to the warm water, he felt like drinking wine.

Such a feeling naturally reminded him of someone. A naked woman sipping wine with a flushed face.

Originally, Demus liked clean naked bodies. When his scars felt itchy, he would control his mind and body by looking at the completely clean and flawless human body. The feeling of insects crawling all over his body calmed down when he saw nude works.

When he saw bodies that were intact, not injured and not mutilated.

That was limited to works of art, however, and he had never appreciated a living human body in this way before.

In the first place, such work was impossible. This was because there were a lot of people, regardless of their age and gender, who tried to take off their clothes and jump on him. If he were to ask anyone to spend time in one room naked, the other person would start to act flirty to Demus as if they had been waiting for it.

In that respect, Liv Rhodes’s attitude was quite pleasing. At first, he was only interested in her body, but her attitude was also interesting. It was the same yesterday.

The way she rolled her eyes as if to read his mind as soon as she chose the sofa instead of the bed she always sat on was just like a half-tamed wild cat. A sneaky cat that acted like it was on high alert but was actually closing the distance little by little.

The reason he willingly gave her wine, unlike the usual, was that he was proud of her attitude, opening her heart a bit to him, so he wanted to compliment her.

“… Twenty-five.”

Demus remembered the expression Liv Rhodes had made when he mentioned her age. She was embarrassed.

The reason was not hard to guess. As far as he knew, she was unmarried, and it was common for ordinary women to have a family by the time they were twenty-five. And if they had married earlier, they could have had two children.

The treatment of a woman who was already past her marriage age was more severe than expected. The vast majority would have been convinced that there would be some fault in Liv Rhodes, and that a fatal flaw existed.

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