There was a noise from the cell. The Lord of Terror, who was almost at the corner, became agitated and quickly turned back towards the cell.
It wasn’t until the Lord of Terror walked far away that Samael released Emil.
Emil’s voice was hoarse, “I don’t want to.”
Samael was a bit curious, “Why? Didn’t you feel so good just now?”
“Because we know each other,” Emil turned his head awkwardly. “I admit I’m a masochist, but I don’t like people around me knowing about it.”
Samael gave a soft “Oh”: “I understand, you have idol’s baggage.”
Emil: “…”
The game soon ended after that.
Samael found Charles who had gone missing, and because of his interference, Emil lost his previous enthusiasm for being caught and whipped by the Lord of Terror.
By the time the copy ended, one of the newbies Samael was leading had been captured.
But the Lord of Terror didn’t kill that person, and the player was strong enough to survive until the end of the game and cleared it successfully.
Once the game ended, they were teleported back to the game lobby.
The one who got caught was the muscular young man.
As soon as they returned to the guild, the muscular young man began to complain.
“I thought I was dead this time.”
“That Lord of Terror is a sadist. I almost got beaten to death.”
He exaggeratedly lifted the hem of his tattered clothes, revealing the rapidly healing wounds.
“Look at what it did to me! It wasn’t enough to whip me, it even used a small knife to cut me and a branding iron to burn me!”
Emil stared at the wounds with burning eyes, his eyes full of envy: “How nice.”
‘So many wounds—it must’ve hurt a lot. That must’ve felt amazing.’
The muscular young man turned abruptly to Emil, “What did you just say?!”
Emil came back to his senses and awkwardly cleared his throat, “I said, it’s great you were able to hold on. I’m happy for you.”
The muscular young man was momentarily dazed by Emil’s handsome face, “Thanks.”
A few days later, Samael asked Song Yuantian, “Where’s Emil?”
Song Yuantian was reading, and when he heard the question, he looked up and thought for a couple of seconds. “Emil? Oh, that good-looking blonde magician?”
Samael: “He’s a magician?”
Song Yuantian’s pale, slender fingers flipped a page, “Yeah, I heard he’s quite a famous magician where he’s from, and often appears in public. Because of his good looks, he’s very popular and often attends big events and makes front-page headlines.”
Samael: “Oh, I see. Where is he now? I haven’t been able to reach him recently.”
Song Yuantian paused in his reading, his expression turning a little strange, “You who can’t reach him? We were messaging each other earlier this morning.”
Samael: “…”
Song Yuantian: “You’ve always been indifferent to guild members. Why the sudden concern for him?”
Samael: “Because I want to. He’s interesting.”
Song Yuantian: “Heh.”
‘You’re pretty interesting too, Samael.’
Samael had to admit that Emil was really avoiding him.
Emil was nowhere to be found among the newbies he was training, and every time he showed up at the guild, Emil would always be gone. If he asked, they’d say he’d just left.
The messages he sent to Emil were all like stones sinking into the sea, without a single response.
One day, while idly watching players’ live broadcasts, Samael’s fingers habitually scrolled through the interface. He swiped past a live broadcast room, only to quickly scroll back.
On screen was Emil, whom he hadn’t seen in a while, covered in cuts and bruises, facing a monster with sharp scythe-like tentacles, which repeatedly attacked him.
The screen was flooded with barrages.
[It looks like he’s dying, with all those injuries.]
[What a pity, such a handsome person. I remember he’s a member of the Sand Sea Guild.]
[He’s the weakest in his guild, right? He always ends up with all kinds of injuries, but somehow, he always manages to survive at the last moment.]
[Maybe he’s a little lucky.]
[Lucky, but not by much.]
[You guys don’t get it. I’ve followed this player for a while. He seems to be one of those “battle-damaged” protagonists in anime who can’t unleash their full potential unless they’re on the brink of death. But this guy… how should I put it… he’s not likable. He makes too many mistakes. He could’ve avoided those monster attacks, but he kept screwing up. If he were more careful, he wouldn’t be in this situation. But watch, he’ll survive again this time.]
Samael blocked some of the barrages with disdain.
What do these people know?
They have no idea what Emil really wanted.
Each time the scythe slashed his body, it seemed terrifyingly sharp, but every time, Emil deftly avoided the vital spots.
The wounds looked horrific, but none were fatal.
Each additional wound on his body brought a look of foreboding expression to Emil’s face.
To others, this expression was one of pain, but Samael knew better—he was enjoying the pain.
But…
It didn’t seem to be enough.
Samael, who was outside the screen, stared intently at Emil’s face. His disheveled golden hair hang down, covering the young man’s beautiful eyes and brows.
‘Heh.’
Samael felt his once-frozen blood boiling again.
Emil had a face as pure and beautiful as a white rose, but he had such a strange habit.
Finally, a trace of impatience flashed in Emil’s eyes.
When the monster attacked again, he deliberately shifted his body, and the monster’s sharp scythe pierced through his thigh.
As the scythe was withdrawn, blood gushed out like a fountain.
Emil staggered and fell to the ground, and the impatience in his eyes finally faded.
Samael outside the screen frowned.
Seeing the prey bleed, the monster let out an excited roar, howling as it pounced once again.
Just when the monster thought it could finally kill its prey this time, a cold glint flashed in the young man’s eyes. The playing card in his hand suddenly flew out, directly slicing through the monster’s neck.
The monster collapsed with a thud, and Emil, panting heavily, pulled his clothes tighter around himself and staggered to his feet.
The screen was flooded with barrages again.
[What did I say? He survived again.]
[In some ways, he’s quite badass.]
[But he’s such a self-sabotager, really unlikable.]
Samael’s hand cupped his cheek through his hood, dark golden vertical pupils staring intently at the young man’s face, as if looking at a prey…
Another copy ended.
Emil was transported back to his dormitory.
The injuries sustained during the copy would automatically heal after returning to the game lobby, so Emil stripped off his clothes and stepped into the bathroom.
Looking at the gradually healing wounds in the mirror, Emil’s blue eyes were filled with weariness.
The young man in the mirror was tall and slender, standing at 1.8 meters, with long arms and legs.
Because of years of practicing magic, his hands were not only nimble but also long and beautiful.
The hideous wounds on his pale, silk-like skin gradually healed before his eyes, and it seemed as though all the pain had vanished along with them.
But only Emil knew that the pleasure brought by the pain hadn’t disappeared.
It surged inside him wildly, but in a chaotic mess, never quite hitting the points he wanted.
He had known for a long time that he had a strange fetish.
He had craved countless times to fully unleash his nature, but because of his identity, he had never acted on it.
The greatest magician E-country had seen in a century.
The beautiful white rose.
God’s favored child.
The angel of the magic world.
These were his accolades, but also his shackles.
He longed for pain, but as a public figure, he didn’t dare leave any marks on his body.
Those strange longings made him feel as dirty and ugly as a worm crawling in the gutter. If his friends and family found out that the so-called “white rose” of the magic world had such a fetish, how would they see him?
For many years, Emil had carefully guarded his privacy.
Until he was dragged into the world of the horror game.
When a monster first left a wound on him, the kind of pain he had never experienced before almost made him scream.
He felt an unprecedented joy.
But as the copies continued, this level of pain became less and less satisfying.
He felt like he was on the verge of madness.
[Ding!]
A system notification rang out in his mind.
Emil took a deep breath and opened the guild chat. It was a message from a fellow guild member.
[Emil, we’re having a group meeting to distribute prop cards. The guild will gather in ten minutes. Come down.]
Remembering that his healing cards were indeed running low, Emil replied: [Okay, I’ll be right down.]
After tidying up his clothes and expression, Emil arrived at the Sand Sea Guild.
The guild hall was open and he walked in without much thought.
The moment he stepped inside, a sense of danger hit him. Emil instinctively wanted to retreat, but it was too late.
A tall man in a cloak stood behind the door. His hand, as strong as a clamp, grabbed hold of him.
Emil heard the man’s sneer: “I finally caught you.”
The guild member who had sent the message clasped his hands together in apology: “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. It was Vice President Samael who asked me to send that message.”
With that, the shameless guy fled the guild hall as if running for his life.
The man’s hand was rough and large, making Emil’s wrist seem “delicate” in comparison.
The man tightened his grip, and the pain shot through Emil’s wrist.
Something intense drilled beneath his skin, into his nerves, and straight to his brain.
Emil froze for a moment, then struggled fiercely: “Let go of me, you lunatic.”
“You’re reaching your limit, right?” The man’s other hand pressed down on Emil’s shoulder, trapping him between the door and his broad chest. “I watched your live broadcast. Those monsters can’t satisfy you anymore.”
Emil forced himself to remain calm: “My affairs are none of your concern.”
“Is that so?” The large hand suddenly moved from his shoulder and grabbed his throat without warning.
The sharp pain and terrifying sense of suffocation hit Emil instantly, his pupils shrinking as his hands instinctively clawed at the hand around his neck.
It hurt so much.
He couldn’t breathe.
He was going to die, really going to die.
