Chapter 51: Don't Stick Your Nose Into Other People's Business (3)

Chapter 51: Don't Stick Your Nose Into Other People's Business (3)

Michail.

With his silver hair.

A modest height of 168cm.

A pretty boy with skin as white as porcelain.

A virtuous personality.

A handsome appearance.

A voice slender and unripe.

Michail was a character who held the essence of all the elements female readers liked; in opposition to the stalwart frame of the Crown Prince and Ruin, he presented a different kind of appeal.

Different from the Crown Prince with his allelic charm and the thuggish Ruin, Michail was an important character who firmly believed that strength' existed to protect the weak and was unable to tolerate injustice, making him a key presence in the novel that offered both relief and frustration with his sense of rightness.

He forgave the villain who had tried to kill him, erroneously darkened the path of a friendformerly an allyand even put the female lead in danger through needless meddling, leading to trouble. All because he only knew too well about honesty and justice, a character inducing aggravation.

That is the Michail I remember, and such was the assessment of him.

What Michail thinks of us, I do not know, but one thing is for sure, I do not like Michail and Michail does not like me either.

The young lady and I had wrecked half of Michails freshman year, and in turn, Michail had ruined her.

I resented it.

An inherently mutual disdain is what characterized our relationship.

That was the relationship between Michail and me.

*

A man with silver hair carrying the moonlight's caress is drawing near with a deadly air.

Once at the fleeing miscreant.

Twice as he looked at me, standing haphazardly.

Thrice when he frowned upon seeing blood on the blade.

Michail's piercing eyes were flickering intensely.

"Damn you"This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

Michail hissed a curse. Would he really want to greet an old friend he hadn't seen in so long with such words? Not even a simple glad to see you' in exchange.

Exhaling a sigh against his frigid demeanor, I unleashed a blade's qi towards the runaway. It was essential to be calculated.

Argh' Upon the scream resonating from the alley's other end, Michail gripped the handle of his sword, ready to charge at any moment.

As I wielded my sword emotionlessly, Michail yelled at me.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Be quiet."

"What are you doing!"

"Isn't it quite late?"

An awkward atmosphere lingered.

Why Michail was here.

What Michail was thinking.

I had my guesses, but to confirm, I decided to ask him directly. It's more accurate to hear it from himself rather than making assumptions alone.

Brushing the blood from the blade, I spoke to Michail.

"Michail, please, calm down."

"You're telling me to calm down after seeing me like this?"

"I could very well be the victim here."

"Spout some sense, at least."

"That's quite hurtful. To think how vulnerable I am."

Cold glances were exchanged. The silent words I despise you' filled the quiet alley.

"Crossing the line is supposedly what Michail does. It's not like it's racism."

"Don't play word games."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes either."

Michail challenged me as if demanding an answer.

"You said cleaning Is that what you call bullying those pitiful people?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

"Madman," Michail muttered under his breath. He glared at me with eyes full of loathing, eyes I had seen before at the Royal Academy.

Those were the eyes Michail looked at me with on the day our relationship truly started to sour. Overflowing with disappointment, a reminiscence of times when you said it wouldn't be like this.

"You killed them?"

"I had no choice."

"I'm asking you if you killed them!"

"I'm sorry."

An unpleasant memory.

Michail questioned me as if cross-examining, still filled with cold hatred and resentment toward me.

"You've always been like this If it displeases you, kill, and make sure they can never rise again, trample them ruthlessly."

"There must be a reason for that."

"No, you are different. You lack principles, you cross lines."

To Michail's definitive statement, I responded with a faint smile, mixing sincerity with provocation, unable to merely stand passive as Michail approached. It seemed the misunderstanding wouldn't be cleared up.

"Then, has Michail ever heard my story?"

"What?"

"At the Academy and even now, you rush to judgment without asking why. If it seems bad, it's bad, but if I'm going to be seen as bad anyway, isn't it better to live wickedly?"

"Again"

I looked down the deep alley where the vagrants had disappeared.

"Do those guys look like good people to you?"

"They might not be good, but they're still pitiful."

"They might've killed someone. Maybe even worse."

"They could have had their reasons."

I chuckled as if the notion was absurd.

"Pitiful? You say that knowing nothing."

"At least they seem more pitiful than you, who torments the weak."

"Could you say that if Yuria was endangered by that guy?"

"What?"

"Didn't Yuria tell you?"

Michail clenched his sword. A chuckle escaped me at the sight of Michail spewing nonsense, looking only at what he wanted to see, an utter fool.

I stepped forward with my sword.

It seemed we wouldn't clear up this misunderstanding.

No matter what I said, it seemed he wouldn't listen, and continuing this conversation with someone whose mind is filled with justice, sympathy, and forgiveness felt like crossing a line.

I spoke to Michail, who was shouting at me.

"Shut up. It's noisy."

The moment a red aura enveloped my sword and an overwhelming sense of oppression blanketed Michail.

Michail's vision went dark.