36 Chapter 36: Nightmares

A tranquil atmosphere filled the quiet room, accompanied by the occasional sound of pages flipping. Steam slowly rose from a large white mug, the black liquid within giving off a serene feeling of warmth.

The surroundings were dimly lit, with only a single table, two chairs positioned on opposite sides, and a few bookshelves lining the walls. Potted plants were situated at each corner, alongside the irregular placement of oil paintings hung up throughout.

Sitting in front of the only large wooden desk in the room, was a young boy who looked no older than 6 years of age, with short, neatly trimmed black hair, and pale golden eyes.

He held a large book in both hands, propping it up against his crossed leg as he read silently. His eyes roamed the pages with a languid gaze, bearing an overall demeanor completely out of place for a child his age.

"You're here reading those books again; I could never get into them despite my efforts. It seems you were born with a much better brain than mine."

An old, gruff voice suddenly rang out, indicating the presence of another inhabitant within. Seated opposite the young boy was an elderly man with grayish-white hair that was kept elegantly slicked back, and a neatly trimmed white beard.

Bringing the mug of coffee up to his lips, he sipped quietly as he stared down at the documents in front of him. Shifting his gaze, he glanced briefly at the young boy past his rectangular shaped reading glasses, bringing a nigh imperceptible smile to his wrinkled face.

"But you know what they say, 'There is no friend as loyal as a book', though I can't say I believe too much of it. Reading wasn't really my forte."

He finished, shaking his head lightly.

The young boy, annoyed at being interrupted, reluctantly tore his gaze away from his book and looked up at the elderly man with brows raised in exasperation.

"Gramps, I'm trying to concentrate."

Though it wasn't stated explicitly, the meaning behind his words was clear as day, something the old man didn't fail to pick up on.

Leaning back in his chair, the young boy's grandfather also raised his brows in feigned surprise.

"So a book is more important than your grandfather's words? And I thought I told you to stop calling me by that name. Add some formality to your tone, son, this isn't a playground."

Facing the elderly man's somewhat stern reprimanding, the young boy shifted his posture with a sigh, crossing one leg over the other.

"Forgive me, grandfather."

He spoke in a serious tone, oozing a clear, underlying sarcasm.

His grandfather slowly rocked back and forth in his chair, staring down at him curiously.

The old man's sharp, calculating gaze was capable of making most other's break out in a cold sweat with a mere glance, and yet, the young boy kept his eyes trained on the book sitting in his lap, not even flinching as he turned another page.

After a few moments of silence, the boy's grandfather finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Anyone ever told you you're too smart for your age, brat…?"

The young boy shrugged his shoulders without looking up, his high-pitched voice sounding more monotonous than usual.

"Yes. More times than I can count…"

The elderly man nodded his head ponderously, his attention now completely focused on the boy ahead.

"Only your mother would dare ask me to babysit someone like this, only that child."

Muttering under his breath, he still made sure it was loud enough for the boy to hear.

Closing the book with a crisp snap, the young boy carelessly slid it onto the desk without any regard for its contents and met his grandfather's gaze with a placid expression.

"I'll be honest here, gramps, I don't need anyone to babysit me. I can take care of most things on my own, and my meals are already provided by the cook. There's no real point here."

In response to his words, the elderly man crossed his arms in a relaxed manner, nodding his head in agreement.

"I can see that clearly, but…why did you close the book? You were interested in it, weren't you?"

Squinting his eyes, he tilted his head in befuddlement at the child's actions.

But the young boy only gave him a pensive look, similarly, squinting his eyes.

"I mean…you didn't sound like you'd stop talking anytime soon, so I just…gave up…"

Shrugging his shoulders helplessly, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, reminiscent of his grandfather's actions.

"You're only what…6 years old? You've got no cuteness left in you, brat. Haa… prodigies are something else…"

Still, the elderly man merely snorted, his lips curling into a menacing smirk.

However, without any warning or hesitation, he suddenly reached into the flap of his blazer at a speed fast enough to almost escape natural eyesight, and instantly threw something in the unsuspecting child's direction with deadly precision.

The young boy, on the other hand, felt as though time had ground to a halt, watching a bladed piece of equipment shoot toward him, seemingly aimed directly at his eye.

There was no time to think or even speak, just an unparalleled sense of crisis flaring up from his survival instincts, which had naturally kicked into overdrive by now.

Nothing else in the world mattered, only the firm belief that if he didn't somehow evade this incoming projectile, he would undoubtedly be killed.

And yet—

*FWOO!*

The young boy barely managed to tilt his head a few centimeters to the right, mere moments before the blade could pierce his flesh.

As a result, the lethal projectile shot straight past him, clipping off a few hairs as it nailed itself into the wall behind with a loud thud.

*BA-THUMP—BA-THUMP—BA-THUMP*

Silence.

Absolute silence reigned, for what seemed like an eternity.

The boy's slightly shrunken pupils followed the few slowly drifting strands of hair that had been cut, watching as they fell to the ground in a daze.

Then, his gaze finally landed on his grandfa—no, the elderly man in front of him. The elderly man who looked completely unfamiliar to him at this moment, wore an impassive expression that betrayed not even an ounce of regret.

Swallowing his saliva, the boy slid out of his chair, attempting to keep his trembling under control whilst preparing to retreat at once.

A bead of sweat slid down his forehead.

His face twisted into a grim smile, a smile filled with shock, trepidation, and disbelief.

"Ahaha… I see, you've gone mad, old man. You…really just tried to—"

But before he could finish, the elderly man cut him off, responding in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I wasn't aiming to kill you."

"Wha—"

"Child, you'd already be dead if I wanted your life, now sit down before you get hurt."

The young boy's mind raced a mile a minute, attempting to grapple with the situation but failing miserably.

The now unfamiliar old man was saying things he could scarcely comprehend in his current state, forcing him to heed his stranger of a grandfather's warning on pure instinct.

After reseating himself, the boy stared ahead, his appearance disheveled and his face distraught.

Both occupants in the room remained quiet, silently observing the other, until eventually, the elderly man opened his mouth once again.

"Hmm… Although I threw it slower than usual, it was enough to dispatch any ordinary grown man under the same circumstances. But you… You still managed to evade instinctively despite your young age."

Nodding his head slowly, he gazed down at the child in front of him with intrigue and what seemed like anticipation.

"A-and…Ahem!... If I…didn't dodge in time…?"

The young boy cleared his throat in an attempt to push down his growing apprehension, questioning whether or not this old man would've truly killed him.

In response to this, the elderly man smiled thinly.

"It would've left a small cut on your cheek, nothing more."

"But it was clearly aimed at my—"

"Your eye? No, son, if I can throw a blade that fast, I can direct its trajectory. As I said before, you faced no threat of death regardless."

Listening to the old man's indifferent tone and seeing the casual attitude he displayed at the mention of harming him, the young boy felt his entire body go ice cold.

"Oh…? You're scared now, it seems. What are you afraid of?"

"...."

"Don't take these things too seriously. This was but a simple test of aptitude, and it appears…you've passed with flying colors. Congratulations, boy. You aren't just smart, but also capable. If you play your cards right, you might be someone important in the future, hahaha…"

"...."

The young boy remained silent throughout his demented grandfather's prattling, gradually calming down enough to think properly again. Although there was much to think about, he chose to ask the foremost question on his mind.

"What…exactly is going on here…"

Sitting somewhat stiffly in his seat, he stared the elderly man dead in the eyes.

"Oh, have I got your attention now?"

Chuckling good naturedly, his grandfather stopped joking around as he unhesitatingly revealed a shocking truth.

"You see, son, what we do is completely different from what you've come to know thus far. We are…very, very dangerous people, your mother included."

"Ma…?"

The young boy was at the edge of his seat, his eyes widening in both disbelief and astonishment.

"Indeed, son. Your mother may well be one of the most dangerous of us all. A monster, in fact. Hmph, and it seems she's given birth to an even greater monster as well."

The elderly man squinted his eyes, looking at the child as though he were seeing through him.

"That said, what do you think about entering the family business? This isn't a job for ordinary schmucks, you'd do well to remember that. But I believe in your potential, son, I wouldn't bother with you if I didn't. Regardless of your answer, I won't force you."

Rubbing his palms together, the young boy pondered over his grandfather's words for a moment, before arriving at a decision within seconds.

There was no need to think too deeply about it.

This seemed like it was almost meant for him.

And so—

"Well… If Ma did it, then…"

*

*

Flickering lights occasionally lit the room.

Papers and various other documents lay strewn across the ground in every direction, a few stained with blotches of red.

A chair sat in the middle of the office-like room, and tied to it was a disheveled middle-aged man dressed in formal attire, a gag soaked in saliva wrapped around his lips.

He sat still, unmoving, and unresponsive.

The whites of his eyes were on full display, indicating his current state.

"This is what life is like, son."

A voice suddenly rang out from a dark corner, their presence miniscule.

"You either kill or be killed, you devour or be devoured. In the end, you can only choose whether or not you're the prey or the predator—whether or not you feel…or don't feel."

Stains of crimson marred the previously spotless floors.

Standing in front of the static middle-aged man was a young boy, holding a knife dripping with blood between his trembling fingers.

Covering his hands and clothes was a sticky, vicious red liquid.

A putrid stench filled the room, a stench of death and despair.

He watched as more and more blood leaked from the man's open wound, a deep wound originating from his chest.

"Tell me, does it bring you fear?"

The boy shook his head listlessly in response.

"Does it bring you satisfaction, child?"

The boy shook his head once more.

"As it should be. Take no pleasure in those you've slain and show no sorrow over those who've perished. The cycle continues… Endlessly."

The boy slowly turned toward the aged voice, witnessing the silhouette of an elderly man making his way out of the shadows with an indifferent expression.

"To make it in this world, you grasp hold of your own life. Never let others dictate your actions and desires. You push forward, advancing forth with the heart of a tyrant—that is what it means…to be a Nox."

*

A pair of pale golden eyes suddenly snapped open, the individual in question shifted into a sitting position at once, a layer of cold sweat soaking their clothes.

The makeshift blanket of fur covering their body slid down to their waist, revealing their naked torso.

Looking around somewhat frantically, the dark and dreary walls of the labyrinth came into view, serving to calm their rapidly beating heart.

However, as they turned their head, they eventually caught sight of a girl with long, silky, snow-white hair and dark red eyes staring straight at them.

Suzu Taniguchi.

"What, did you have a nightmare? I didn't know the invincible Aziel still had emotions like fear, that's surprising."

"....."

Upon hearing her teasing words, he said nothing in response.

What would've normally been met with a scathing remark received no answer from him whatsoever.

Seeing his unusual behavior, Suzu's expression became serious, gazing at him with a mixture of worry and confoundment.

She scooted forward even closer than they already were, suddenly reaching out her arms and taking Ariel's head into her embrace.

Complete silence accompanied her abrupt actions, leaving both to grapple with the unexpected situation.

"What are you doing?"

Aziel casually turned his gaze upward to look at her, his expression unchanging.

"What does it look like? I'm comforting you, moron."

"Since when did I need—"

"Just shut up, Azi, and enjoy the embrace of someone as hot as me."

"....."

A sigh escaped his lips as he inhaled the flowery scent wafting from her white crop top. The soft, supple sensation of her skin was pressed completely against his face.

He closed his eyes.

The rising and falling of her chest, and the soothing warmth she emitted could be felt, giving off a reassuring feeling.

"You turned on yet?"

"Damn near…"

Suzu snickered at his careless words, her modest breasts unknowingly rubbing against his cheek. A reddish tint dyed the tips of her ears, adding to her dangerous allure.

"Hoho~, what should we do about that…?"

"You tell me…"

"Hmm… I think I'll listen to you this time…"

Slowly combing her fingers through his hair, she hummed softly, smiling at how adorable he appeared at this moment.

It was fine if…this moment lasted just a little bit longer, right?

______________________

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