Alexis Rachel Hyden

'If I just die like this, I would be the most disappointing traveler ever'

As he faced the ominous barrel in front of him, Christian, feeling nervous, couldn't stop his mind from wandering.

"It's not necessarily the worst. At least I feel severe pain in my lower body compared to when I walk through the door. If I have a book titled 'The Treasure of Sunflowers' on hand, with a big tree saying 'Pang Juan died under this tree' or something similar, I'd consider myself lucky..."

"Well, that standard is indeed set pretty low."

Christian chuckled, but he noticed that Sally, who was pointing a gun at him, was trembling slightly.

"It's not surprising that she's reacting this strongly. In a situation like this, which looks like it's straight out of a risqué film, any woman would be emotional, especially considering her fierce personality and prickly demeanor from our interactions yesterday. I've never understood why American women prefer doing it in their beds. Now I see a possible reason: it's convenient to kick unwanted guests out. And if they can't kick them out, they can always retrieve a gun from under the bed..."

"Am I in control of my fate?"

Christian shook his head. The situation in front of him was intense, but he felt surprisingly calm. Instead, he recollected the events from last night.

****

Sally had indeed been intoxicated, and she did vomit on Christian. He had brought her back to the apartment she was renting, guided by her inebriated directions. However, it wasn't the few cups of wine that had caused her drunkenness; it was the "hymenone."

Yes, hymenone, also known as the "leg-spreader," was a favorite tool among some people for trying to seduce women in bars. Christian had no idea how it had ended up in his pocket, but now he was stuck with it. To make matters worse, he recognized the substance immediately when he touched it, and he knew exactly what it was. He had drugged Sally's wine, and he had done it with surprising expertise, despite never having done it before. The adage, "The former experienced driver," seemed oddly appropriate.

This substance was infamous, and while it might have been legal in the United States in the early 1990s, where both guns and marijuana were legal, it was not legal to use it on someone without their knowledge or consent. Christian had resorted to this act because he couldn't resist his urges for some reason. If he had been that desperate, he could have pursued other options.

"Don't blame me; I did it for your good"

As he struggled to get the intoxicated Sally into bed, Christian, thoroughly disgusted with her vomiting, offered this explanation to soothe his conscience. Or so he thought.

Wait, something's not right.

"Ah, damn it! This sounds like something a villain would say."

Christian realized where he had drawn that line and became even more disheartened. He was acting like a villain from a low-tier novel. If this were a novel, someone should be coming to rescue the heroine soon. 

Of course, unless it was one of those dark, abusive novels.

"Should I stop here, then?"

Almost subconsciously, Christian contemplated stopping, but he swiftly dismissed that whimsical notion.

"What a joke! After years of searching and even crossing time, I've finally found a chance like this. There's no way I'm stopping at the doorstep"

Christian stared intensely at the beautiful woman's figure lying on the bed, concealed only by her underwear. His hands trembled with excitement, like a predator about to pounce on its prey.

The irony was that, from an outsider's perspective, the current situation appeared exactly like that.

"I don't even know if this will work this time"

Christian took a deep breath, suppressed his trembling hands, and recited the incantation for the second time.

[The night gave me black eyes, but I use them to find light]

This wasn't a traditional Taoist mantra like "anxiety as a law" or an esoteric maxim like "the world is inhumane, and everything is a dog." Instead, it was just a poem.

According to the old ghost who had taught Christian these spells, the incantation was used not to communicate with ghosts and gods, but rather to strengthen one's will and focus, allowing the spell to be cast effectively. In essence, the incantation was a form of self-hypnosis, and the specific words spoken weren't crucial. The key was to concentrate the mind and believe that the spell would succeed when spoken.

"It's essentially self-hypnosis"

Christian, who had studied modern psychology, viewed this as a form of hypnosis for himself. To cast spells, he had even learned from psychologists, although he wasn't skilled enough to hypnotize others into doing their bidding. Nonetheless, he had some proficiency in self-hypnosis. However, in the Age of Domination, where the aura was scarce, even with self-hypnosis, simple spells succeeded only one or two times out of a hundred. The more complex spells learned from the old ghosts had to do with communicating with spirits, and in a world that had defeated all monsters, their usefulness was limited. Without girls, even with a nice house, a beautiful car, and an ample bankroll, one couldn't produce offspring.

"However, this time, it went smoothly. Although the aura in 1993 isn't much richer than the coming era, there seems to be an unseen force guiding me, enabling me to firmly grasp the elusive ethereal sensation from the past."

"Come"

Christian pointed at the girl's forehead while deliberately altering the chant to English, hoping to catch the girl's attention. After all, she was a Westerner, and 80% of her subconscious language use was in English.

"Rise"

With this command, the previously unconscious girl began to furrow her brows in pain. Her exquisite face twisted, and the agony that initially appeared gradually transformed into a grotesque distortion within seconds.

"What!!"

The girl, who had been unconscious, suddenly let out a scream, her body convulsing as if she were a fish out of water. In the next instant, she sat upright.

"Where... Where am I?"

The girl's voice sounded hoarse, her eyes seemed unfocused with dilated pupils, and her expression appeared blank, as though she were either gazing into the distance or entirely blind.

"This is the hospital, miss."

Though they were clearly in Sally's bedroom, Christian was playing along as if the woman before him wasn't Sally and they were actually in a hospital.

"Oh?"

The girl seemed to take Christian's words seriously, losing sight of who she was and her rented apartment.

"Why am I in the hospital? What happened?"

She shook her head, appearing utterly bewildered. Her gorgeous blonde hair also looked lackluster at this moment.

"You were drunk and injured."

Observing that the girl's reaction aligned perfectly with his expectations, Christian felt a surge of elation. It was proof that his spell had worked. Sensing that the moment was crucial, he suppressed his joy and continued in a calm and measured tone.

"This is Dr. House, your attending physician. How are you feeling now?"

"Feeling? It hurts"

The girl scrunched her brows, as though she was enduring the pain.

"It's like my whole body's been shattered. Doctor, am I going to die?"

"No, it's just normal pain. The fact that you can feel it is proof that there's nothing majorly wrong with your body—dead people don't feel pain, do they?"

Christian comforted her like a real doctor, although a hint of irony was evident when he said, "Dead people don't feel pain."

Nevertheless, he swiftly suppressed the grin, and then casually asked, intentionally:

"By the way, miss, can you tell me your full name again? We need it for some procedures because you were unconscious when you were admitted to the hospital."

"Um, okay."

The girl hesitated as if she couldn't recall her name, and after a long pause, she responded slowly:

"My name is Alexis Rachel Hyden."

As the name fell from her lips, the girl's expression shifted dramatically, and she began repeating her name as though possessed:

"Alexis"

"My name is Alexis"

"I am Alexis"

"I am Alexis"

"I'm-"

"Sleep!!"

Seeing the girl's expression grow increasingly frantic as if some dangerous transformation was imminent, Christian made a decisive move. He recited the incantation again, pointed at her forehead, and, like a powered-down radio, her voice ceased abruptly. She collapsed onto the bed, just as she had when she was drunk.