IWOL Chapter 277: Wanted but Could Not Ask

“Raise.” All the chips on the table were pushed into the game. Mr. Mo looked at Lin Hangzhi, who was sweating profusely and angrily. His opponent’s hand on the table, all five fingers had already been lost.

But he wasn’t in a hurry to collect the spoils. This still wasn’t yet the time.

Lin Hangzhi’s body swayed down. He stared at the upside-down cards on the table, his eyes bloodshot, and his expression so terrible that he’d completely lost his usual appearance of an intellect. What he had become was a desperate gambler who had lost his mind.

This time, Lin Hangzhi had bet his entire right hand.

Cerberus presided over the gambling table silently. He began with the community cards. The first three cards were lifted, displaying the Q of Clubs, the 2 of Diamonds, and the Little King.

No one bothered to clean up the broken red wine bottle, and the aroma of wine had already filled the entire card room, reminding Cerberus of the misty smell of hookah in the master’s bedroom. He looked down at the young man from top to bottom, his gaze still containing utmost respect and admiration. And suddenly, his thoughts turned to a few years ago.

For a long time after Mr. Mo had brought him back to the casino, Cerberus hadn’t stayed with him.

This young man, who had stretched out his noble hand and pulled him out of the mud, seemed to have forgotten that he bought himself a slave. Cerberus was taken to the security team and was trained to become a bruiser.

For several weeks, he couldn’t see the person who had given him his name, and the shadow that remained in his heart only became clearer.

It wasn’t until the sixth week of his arrival at the casino, at 3:19 in the evening, and this changed. It was after a customer couldn’t accept that fact that he had lost all of his belongings and ended up having a dispute with the crouper. When Cerberus arrived, the crazed man was trying to escape. The injured croupier covered his forehead and fell to the side of the table, blood leaking between his fingers.

Amidst the screams of men and women, Cerberus’ figure was as vigorous as a cheetah. He captured the man, pressed his arm to the gaming table, and grabbed the Persian scimitar that had been with him through fire and water. The scimitar fell and cut off the man’s left hand.

“This is your punishment for violating the casino rules.” Amid the man’s screams, Cerberus grabbed his other hand with lightning speed and pressed it on the table. The blood-stained blade glinted with cold light and cut off his right hand.

“This is your punishment for hurting the croupier.”

After tossing off the blood from the tip of his scimitar, Cerberus released the man, who immediately fell to the ground and rolled over in pain. He swept his gaze at the people crowding around, and whether they were gamblers or employees, they couldn’t help but take a step back.

“I hope that everyone here will abide by the rules of the casino, so that everyone will be happy. We are all here to do business, and we don’t want to see blood, right?”

Half an hour later, Ceberus was in the back, changing clothes. Just as he was wondering how he was going to wash the blood spots on his white shirt, the supervisor found him and said, “The boss wants to see you.”

So he was taken to the private elevator and went all the way up to the 23 floor. At 3:18, he finally saw the owner who had given him hope and a new life.

There were a few small lamps in the bedroom, and in the dim lights, the young man leaned on a recliner with a hookah pipe in his mouth. The gorgeous hookah on the table was boiling, and smoke drifted out along the hose and was swallowed into his lungs while some wafted out from his nose and lips.

He was facing the windows, looking out at the bustling lights outside, leaving Cerberus with just his profile.

Cerberus hesitated by the bedroom door. Finally, he walked over with very light steps and knelt down on one knee. He dropped his head low and stared at the crimson carpet, not even daring to breathe out a single sound.

“You terrified all my guests,” Mr. Mo finally said softly a long time later. He turned his head and looked down at the man who had his head lowered as if he was going to press it into the dirt. He had a hideous scar on his neck, and the solid muscles on his back budged from this position, propping up his black suit like solid boulders.

“What’s your name?”

“Cerberus, Master.” Cerberus raised his head and looked up at the young man, at the laziness between the corners of his eyebrows, at the two light-colored tear moles, at the lips that was just as he remembered.

At that time, Cerberus hadn’t yet understood that the sentiment that had made a slight appearance in his heart was a thing called love.

Mr. Mo nodded, and he bit the waterpipe again. After sucking in a deep breath, he said through the curling smoke, “Go to Seuss and get your reward.”

Long after Cerberus had left, Mr. Mo still remained in the same posture, unmoving, as if he had completely melted into the comfortable recliner. He was alone in the luxurious room, smoking a hookah, and looking at the outside world.

Very lazy.

—–

When Dong Zheng kissed down, Cui Zuojing was already reluctant to lift his head. Even now, he felt as if even moving his fingers was tiring. If he could, he really wanted to just lie down in this comfortable place forever. He wouldn’t have to do anything until he died of old age.

Cui Zuojing no longer wanted to think about when this exhautions and rejection had quietly appeared in him. What about recovering the fragment? Anyway, it wasn’t particularly urgent. Let’s rest for a while and wait until the next day.

Dong Zheng’s warm lips fell on his forehead, his nose, the corners of his mouth, but Cui Zuojing was too lazy to respond. So he slumped motionless on the sofa, allowing Dong Zheng’s movements to continue down bit by bit.

—–

[Through me, enter the City of Endless Pain]

Mr. Mo’s reward was to promote him to the captain of the security team. This gave Cerberus the opportunity to get on the elevator once a week to report the situation.

Cerberus cherished this opportunity very much. The master rarely came down to inspect him personally, so every seven days, he could see him for no more than ten minutes.

Cerberus did everything neatly and cleanly, without any muddles. The casino was extremely safe under the care of this murderous god. Since then, nothing eventful had happened for a long time, but Cerberus looked forward to it. If only one or two people could break this situation. He needed some turmoil, something to talk about, so that he wouldn’t only turn over the words “Everything is normal” every time he went up to report.

He wanted more attention from his master.

In the eleventh week after his arrival at the casino, Cerberus went up to report the situation as normal. He knocked three times and gently pushed open the door.

Mr. Mo had just taken a bath and was sitting on the edge of the bed in a bathrobe, his bare feet resting on the carpet. Angela, his personal maid, was wiping his head.

Noticing that Cerberus was at the door, Angela pretended for a while, but still ended up inadvertently pulling on the young man’s hair. Mr. Mo frowned, but he didn’t scold her and merely said, “Are you planning on ripping me bald?”

“Sorry, Master, I didn’t mean it.” Angela stuck out her tongue and hurriedly lowered her head to concentrate on her work, not looking at the security team leader with the deep honey-colored eyes. Her flushed complexion was hard to detect.

She had been with her master for many years, and had been his personal maid since she was fourteen. If she hadn’t made a big mistake, the master wouldn’t criticize her.

Cerberus took everything in. The slightly pinkish skin after bathing. The drops of water dripping from the black tips of his hair and rolling down his neck into the depression of his collarbone, before finally slipping into the collar of his pajama. And the girl held a towel, her fingers shuttling between his hair. Even after making a mistake, she still went unpunished, like a pampered, endearing child.

She could get so close, touch the master like that, and talk so easily with him.

Inexplicable emotions surfaced in his heart, nibbling like countless tiny bugs. He clenched his fists, his tongue sour. Cerberus had never felt so vividly what jealousy was.

How much he wished that the person with the master was himself.

“Cerberus?” Mr. Mo finally looked at the man who still hadn’t entered. “Why are you still standing there?”

Cerberus’ tightly clenched fists suddenly loosened; the call of his name instantly comforted him. He walked steadily over, knelt down on one knee beside the bed, and said in a deep voice, “Master, I will report on the situation last week.”

No one could see what kind of waves was crashing through his heart.

Except for himself.

—–

Wang Que stumbled into the room and fell to the ground. The jealousy was so strong that she, who had never experienced it before, didn’t know how to respond. She knelt on the ground and clutched tightly at the clothes over her chest, her nails digging into the skin as if she wanted to dig out the heart that was constantly squeezing out sour water.

She was jealous of all the people who were better than her, jealous of all the bright and brilliant things, and jealous of everything she wanted for herself.

She remembered Fu Zhe’s test. In the illusion, the bunny-head girl was dripping with blood. At that time, she had looked down on Tan Qiuyu, thinking that she was extremely disgusting.

But now, how could she become like this?

As tears gushed out and hit the floor, her transparent insects quietly appeared beside her, gathering at an astonishing speed. They soon crowded around Wang Que’s feet and climbed along her legs until she was nearly covered in them.

Their fine tentacles waved in their breathing hole as they crawled over Wang Que’s face. The first insect climbed over her cheek, its soft and cool body stretching out to cover her eyes.

More and more insects joined it, forcing Wang Que to close her eyes tightly. They layered on top of each other, preventing her from opening her eyes for even a moment.

If she couldn’t see, she wouldn’t be jealous anymore, right?

—–

[Through me, enter the pit of eternal misery.]

Since then, every long night became a torture for Cerberus.

His young and strong body spoke of needs and desires. Hot blood surged through his body, spreading restlessly to every cell. He tossed and turned, his propensity to fall asleep regardless of where he was was no nowhere to be found. Unexpectedly, he couldn’t sleep.

He could only soothe himself and relieved his own desire. Hope was never a shameful thing, but whenever Cerberus secretly thought of the young man’s eyebrows and body, every thought became extremely sinful.

That was the master who saved him. That was the noble one who should not be contaminated with the mortal world. But in his fantasy, he had held him in his arms and kissed him, catering to every infantesimal detail and praising him with silent worship.

The less he got, the more he wanted, and the more he wanted, the emptier he felt.

Cerberus didn’t know how long this would go on.

He still reported the situation every week, still cherished those short ten minutes. Every time he looked at the young man, he would always uncontrollably pay attention to the carpet fiber emerging from the gaps between his toes. He would imagine how it would feel like to be stepped on by that pair of feet, and if he kissed those lips around that water pipe, would they be as soft as he’d imagined? His master’s voice that always ended in a slight rise, how tasteful would it be? And that body that never exercised, would it easily get tired?

Countless such thoughts crowded Cerberus’ brain, making his breathing involuntarily hot. Everytime he lowered his head, he suppressed the desire in his heart and the desire of his body.

If the master knew that he had such disgusting thoughts toward him, he would probably kill him.

Whenever he thought of this, Cerberus’ heart felt bitter agony.

–Wanted it but could not ask for it.

——

In the purple room, Cui Zuojing’s eyes were half opened, but they had a hard time focusing on Dong Zheng’s face. They shifted over his shoulder and landed emptily on the ceiling.

After a long time, his hands suddenly tightened, turning his knuckles slightly white, as if to escape. But Dong Zheng grabbed his hands and pressed them over his head, entwining their fingers together.

Passion-filled kisses fell on Cui Zuojing’s lips, and no one could break free from this cage.

[Through me, entered the eternally damned.]

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Saveord
Saveord
4 months ago

Oof looks like the sins affecting the Wonton Insurgency is related to Cerberus?