Chapter 21【VIP】

Jogging all the way.

Opesa was still being held by him, watching her golden hair flutter in the sunlight.

She didn't know when Sinderel came, nor did she know why he dared to appear in front of the priest. He should have avoided the place that made him suffer and never show up again for the rest of his life.

After running an unknown distance from the church, the people in front finally stopped slowly. They stopped at the side of a slave market.

He stopped in front, without looking back or speaking, and slowly loosened his hand.

"You..." Opesa stood behind, her hand still frozen in mid-air.

"...If you knew everything, would you still say that?"

A trembling voice interrupted Opesha's hesitation. Opesha was puzzled, "What?"

Sinderel turned around and pointed to a place called Opesha.

They were a group of prostrate, half-naked slaves, all emaciated, their haggard eyes filled with longing. They kowtowed to passing nobles and merchants. Some even exposed their bodies, pleasing passersby with their self-entertainment, and repeatedly kissed their feet, attempting to gain a new kind of freedom from the confines of their cages.

Cruel, but realistic.

"This is my past," he said, pointing to his body. "It's dirty, dirty everywhere."

"..." Opesa stared at him and shook her head, "I can't see."

"It's only because my clothes cover it that you can't see it." He stubbornly dissected his flesh and blood once again, exposing his most vulnerable inner self. "I have committed blood crimes, I have killed countless people, and I have abandoned myself. I used to please countless nobles, with my body and my hands. They praised me, but also humiliated me without restraint."

Every word he spoke was mournful, recounting a past that had never been mentioned before, and placing all the dark memories that were too painful to recall before her.

"I can't see."

"I am an unfortunate existence." He spread out his hands, trembling slightly. "Look, there's nothing there, but it's definitely stained with blood."

"I said, I can't see."

"What the priest said is true. I killed those people. They hindered my father, and my father asked me to kill them. I am a sinner who deserves death." He finally couldn't help but admit all the accusations. "I did it. I was sent to those people to please them, and then take their lives when they were least prepared."

You would find him disgusting, his entire body and soul are dirty, and I don't know how many people have touched him.

No one thinks slaves are clean, and no one will speak for slaves.

Sinderel raised his eyes, curling the corners of his lips in a slightly mocking and negative tone: "After hearing this, will you still accept it?"

He didn't know and didn't want to guess.

The person in front of him stared at him without blinking.

After waiting for a long time and hearing no answer, he averted his gaze and tried to turn around to avoid the question.

"—In my country, those who traffic in human beings will be sentenced to death. They deserve to die, as does Charlie, and those who sold these people as slaves. You are wrong, but in this hopeless world, you are the messenger who speaks for those slaves."

Opesa's soft voice rang in his ears, and Xindrel paused. He silently looked up at the woman with a smile on her lips, his eyes full of confusion.

"I think I can empathize with you. I didn't have a complete childhood or family either. My parents' appearances are vague in my childhood memories. My biological father was an alcoholic and abusive bastard. My mother committed suicide overwhelmed by the burden, leaving me an orphan. Although my adoptive parents were kind to me, I still can't get over it."

Sinderel said in confusion: "What."

Oppasa took two steps closer. "So, you don't understand me either. I'm not Oppasa. I'm not the Oppasa of this world. I come from another world. I don't know why I ended up in this world." She put her hands behind her back and looked up at him. "Even though life is terrible, I still believe that it's my own life, and no one can interfere. I still want to return to my own world and continue to face that fucked-up life."

She reached out and poked Xindrel's heart. "If I can do it, so can you. Don't let me look down on you. I know you've always wanted to kill me. In your eyes, killing me is as easy as killing an ant."

She told Sinderel everything frankly, including the past.

She has never been one to reveal her true feelings to others, and her friends in the real world don't know about these things.

Disguise has become a habit. Beneath the outgoing and easy-going appearance, there is actually a sensitive, suspicious and love-deprived soul.

"I'm very selfish and suspicious. To outsiders, I'm a fickle womanizer. I've never lacked suitors, and I won't let myself be single. I always create a false illusion of love.

"I can use PUA... which means I use moral kidnapping on the people around me, making them dependent on me and identify with me. But that's all fake. I'm just an egoist. As long as my spiritual needs are met, I don't care about what others think." Opesa counted her shortcomings one by one, showing her darkest side to Sinderel.

After saying that, she raised her eyebrows and looked at me. "You're wrong. I will use everything I can, including you now."

Those words are unfamiliar,

She didn't think he was dirty, nor did she think he was a disaster.

What she said was awkward and unpleasant, but at the same time she responded secretly and accepted everything he said.

She said she was dark, selfish, and a mean person, and he had known for a long time that she was using him.

So what.

As long as she wanted, he would take advantage of her.

No one was willing to accept him except her.

But she doesn't belong here.

Bright, then dim.

That was a place he would never reach.

A complex and twisted emotion gripped his heart tightly, and his body felt heavy, as if the heart in his chest was filled with something, and even his thinking became slow.

It's another unprecedented feeling.

He felt someone scratching his cheek with fingers, and forced a smile. "Smile for me! You have such a beautiful body, but it keeps sagging. What a waste!"

He agreed, his lips stiffly raised, revealing an unflattering smile. But Opesa nodded in satisfaction. "Good! Keep up the spirit from now on. You'll still have to work hard for me. The banquet is in a week, so you need to get the clothes out quickly."

"What happened next?" asked Sindriel.

"We have to advertise to make money." There happened to be a few tailor shops nearby, and Opesa squinted her eyes to look inside. "Wow, there's actually a tailor shop here, and the craftsmanship is pretty good. It should be quite cheap to open one here. I'll go check it out."

Xindrell grabbed her, then quickly let go as if it was too hot. He rubbed his hands at his sides and said in a slightly depressed tone, "What are you going to do?"

"Go ask about the price. It'll probably take you ages to finish those designs by yourself. Wouldn't it be faster if you had a few more hands?"

"..." Sinderel frowned, not very happy. "I can do it." After thinking for a moment, he added sincerely, "I can talk to animals."

He could ask mice for help, so there was no way he would send anyone else.

Hearing his frank words, Opesa no longer insisted: "Okay, then I won't spend that money to hire someone."

Seeing that Opesha wasn't surprised by his reaction, Sinderel was a little puzzled: "Aren't you surprised?"

Opesa shrugged nonchalantly: "What's so strange about that? I've even encountered time travel myself."

It was even tied to a malicious system. She secretly complained.

But now she felt strange again.

She just blurted out everything at once, without showing the attitude that her character should have, but the system was unusually quiet, without even a prompt.

Although it was strange, Opesa was more secretly happy.

How could she not be unhappy? If there was a complaint window, she would definitely send 10,086 complaint letters to curse this broken system.

Perhaps it was some strange bug. This wasn't the first time the system had issues. Opesa thought as she called out to Sinderel, "Let's go, get back to work..."

Before she could finish her words, she felt someone grabbing the corner of her clothes.

He pulled with such force that half of her body tilted sideways.

Before she could react to what was happening, she saw Sinderel take a step forward, draw out the dagger sharply, and swiftly and ruthlessly slap away the hand that was pulling at Opesa's skirt.

With a muffled cry of pain, Opesa was staggered and protected behind him. Looking closely, she saw the guy who was pulling at her clothes and refused to let go.

It seemed to be a female beggar with albinism, with dirty white hair like a tangled ball of dimes, and her whole body was so white that it was almost transparent, a very abnormal and morbid paleness.

She folded her hands, rolled on the ground crying, and denounced Sinderel's brutality: "Dear God, someone actually bullied your believers in the street! Wuwu... It hurts so much..."

She seemed to be young, about fourteen or fifteen years old. She was wearing a tattered long skirt and there was a tattered pottery bowl beside her.

Although pitiful, she was very noisy, lying on the ground and not getting up, quite like a good scammer. And her voice was comparable to two flies in the house, making it impossible to arouse any sympathy.

Unable to bear the increasing number of people watching, Opesa pulled out two copper coins from her pocket and threw them into the beggar's bowl: "Here, stop shouting."

With the crisp sound of the copper coin entering the bowl, the beggar's cries abruptly stopped. Opesa looked at the little girl with a grimace, grinning and laughing as she held the broken bowl. She really wanted to go up to her and knock the bowl over.

The little girl rubbed her swollen hands and slowly sat up straight, her pigeon-blood red eyes sweeping over Opesa and Sinderel.

The gaze was cold and sharp, and Opesa could clearly feel it.

But soon, a big smile appeared on her face: "Thank you, God will always bless you! By the way... since we are destined to meet..." She fumbled in the pocket of her skirt with her dirty hands, and then spread it out in front of them, "I stole this last time, but there is only one, and I'm giving it to my kind benefactor!"

In the not-so-clean palm lay a clean golden cross earring, carved with lifelike winding vines and roses, intricate and gorgeous.

It's obvious at first glance that this is not something a beggar can obtain through legitimate channels.

The change was so swift that Sinderel even thought it was an illusion. He hesitated for two seconds before reaching out to accept the earring.

"Okay, I'm going to eat. See you again if we have the chance!" The beggar waved his hand and disappeared in a flash.

Sinderel pinched the earring, and the shaking metal cross gleamed in the sunlight, even so bright that it was a little dazzling.

She already had earrings on her ears, and it would be difficult to take them off.

"It would look good on you, and go with your hair." Opesa said at the right moment.

Sinderel glanced at the earrings on his fingertips calmly: "Do you want to see them?"

"Yes."

The hole in his ear was a punishment imposed by the woman called Mother. He still remembered the dull pain of the silver needle piercing his flesh and twitching repeatedly.

He didn't like it, but he couldn't refuse.

He raised his hand to lift up his golden hair, twisting it with his fingertips again and again, and the cool touch of the metal embedded in his fingerprints.

But because I couldn't see it, every time I tried to push it into the tiny hole on my earlobe, it fell off into my palm, floating lightly but with a mocking look.

"Tsk." An inaudible sigh of annoyance escaped his lips.

"Not done yet?" A lazy smile came.

"Yeah." He responded vaguely, his fingertips subconsciously tightening, as if hiding a clumsy piece of evidence.

Opesa crossed her arms, a subtle smile on her lips. Without saying a word, she walked over and took the earring from his hand, "Give it to me."

She stopped beside him, so close that Xindrel could even feel the subtle breeze of her breath brushing against his cheek.

"Don't move." The voice was almost against his neck, soft, yet with a casualness that left no room for argument. Warm breath tickled his exposed skin like feathers, stirring a slight shudder. "The needle is very thin."

He almost straightened his body stiffly, holding his breath tightly, feeling the cool fingertips rubbing against his earlobe. The slight itch was like an electric current, instantly penetrating into his limbs and bones, making him almost hum without a sound, but was forcibly suppressed.

Her breath, carrying her unique fragrance, sprayed firmly on his sensitive earlobes and neck, and every breath was like a ball of flame burning him. He could clearly feel the fingertips crushing his soft flesh, and with a patience that was almost torturous, she kneaded his earlobe bit by bit.

The fingertips seemed to possess a magical power, a burning tingle slowly invading that tiny, soft spot. He was like unmelted ice, melting with the slightest poke. He collapsed, finally melting into the drowning water.

As the cold needle slowly entered the hole, Sindriel's Adam's apple rolled violently, the muscles on the sides of his neck tensed, and he could almost hear the faint sound of his blood being overwhelmed.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely, and every second was unbearable. Just when Sinderel felt he was about to be driven mad by this torture, and was about to lose control of his restless heart—

"alright."

Opesa's voice suddenly rang out, pulling him back from the brink of madness.

Then, a wave of withdrawal and emptiness followed. The warm, fragrant atmosphere suddenly disappeared, and the cool air rushed back to his burning skin, causing him to shudder slightly.

He looked at Opessa in panic, then reacted and tried to find a calm state. However, the words he uttered were as dry and hoarse as if they were polished by sandpaper: "Thank you..."

"It's really beautiful." Opesa raised an eyebrow, took two steps back, and looked at him leisurely. Her gaze was full of admiration, but not like admiring a toy, but admiration with praise. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes wandering to his still-burning ear.

"Sinderel." Her voice rose slightly at the end. "Your ears are even pinker than the roses above."

Sinderel turned around abruptly, avoiding Opesa's mischievous gaze.

She knows everything.

All the stiffness and trembling that he thought he had hidden perfectly, even that shameful throbbing that almost broke his chest, were perhaps clearly visible in her eyes.

A shameful feeling instantly killed off his remaining rationality. He covered his face with his hands and hurriedly took a step forward: "...Let's go."