Chapter 23
Clearly, of the two people I met, the one who ultimately made the decision was the blond youth who led me to escape.
During a lull in the escape, he calmly and methodically analyzed the situation for his accomplices:
"Yes... Although she's not a spider, leaving her there alone could be bad for us, or for her. Let's take her with us for now."
...
The escape lasted for more than ten minutes before the two men stopped in a secluded corner. Using the address in their hands, they led me into a hidden, detached building.
“I’m sorry,” the blond youth said to me after closing the door, “as you can see, my friend and I have run into trouble and accidentally dragged you into this... We’ll send you away when the time is right in a few days. Until then, please stay with us.”
I have been very cooperative throughout the journey and have not raised any protests until now.
He probably deduced from these circumstances that I wasn't a reckless person, so he simply loosened the chains in his hands, stood silently, lowered his face, raised his right hand, and unwrapped the bandage on his arm—there was a wound there, and the blood that had flowed out had soaked most of the white bandage.
"Has it cracked?" Upon seeing this, his companion rushed forward anxiously, rummaging through his own body as if looking for something, but ultimately failed, muttering, "Damn it, I left the medicine at the hotel."
I looked down and took out a tiny medicine bottle from my handbag, which I was clutching tightly in my hand. After being inexplicably taken away, I uttered my first words to them:
"...If you don't mind, you can use this; it works very well."
The tall man who initially stopped me—wearing retro and somewhat comical small round sunglasses on his nose—had his sunglasses slipped down slightly, revealing a look of surprise in his eyes behind them.
He glanced at the blond youth, his expression hesitant, then, as his gaze shifted downwards and fell upon the wound on his companion's hand, he gritted his teeth and made a decision—like the protagonist of a silent cartoon he watched as a child, he lifted his arm, trying his best to look terrifying, straightened his back and stepped forward, not forgetting to deliberately say:
"We won't hurt you—so don't get any funny ideas."
But at that moment, my attention was completely unaffected by his threats.
I stared at his pretentious posture, and the more I looked, the more reasonable my assumptions seemed. I couldn't help but smile at him, a friendly smile playing on my lips.
Ah, it's the live-action version of Talking Tom.
Tom couldn't read minds and couldn't guess what I was thinking. Meeting my smile, he paused, clearly confused, then coughed twice helplessly, snatched the medicine from my hand, and said:
"Thank you—let me try it out first."
As he said this, he turned around and walked toward his companion, a little red showing behind his ear.
...huh
Are emotions so easily influenced and so readily apparent?
It's been a long time since I've met a guy like this.
I found it interesting and couldn't help but stare at him for a while longer. Suddenly, a cold and wary gaze came silently from the side.
I turned my head slightly, and the blond youth was staring at me with a cold expression.
I smiled at him too.
He remained unmoved, his gaze even colder, his face completely expressionless.
Oh dear, that's terrible.
...
After taking the medicine, the man wearing sunglasses opened the bottle, shook it, smelled it, and even rubbed a small patch on the back of his hand before revealing a surprised expression:
"Is this it..."
"No problem at all." He then cheerfully told his companion, "Great, Kura!"
He seemed about to reveal his companion's name; he gasped, his eyes widened, and managed to swallow the last few syllables of his sentence, instead saying stiffly:
"...This is a very special potion; your injury will heal quickly."
As he spoke, a look of doubt suddenly appeared on his face, and he muttered to himself, "Huh, why would she happen to have something like that?"
I didn't say anything, but tilted my head with interest to watch his expression change, calculating in my mind when to seize the opportunity to say "It's poisonous"... His companion, the handsome young man with blond hair, turned his cold gaze away from me and looked at the medicine bottle.
“It’s not surprising that the legendary eldest daughter of the Adrian family carries some unusual items with her,” he said. “However, it’s best not to use that medicine. My injuries are not serious, so let’s return the medicine to her.”
This time it was my turn to be confused.
"Do you know me?" I asked.
He lowered his eyes and remained silent, wiping away the ruptured blood on his arm with a bandage, and then lowered his sleeve.
"Let's bandage it up, okay?" I stepped forward amidst their renewed warning glances, took off my earring with one hand, grabbed the medicine bottle with the other, then used the sharp end of the earring to cut my palm, applied the medicine, and showed it to them. "...I didn't poison it, don't be nervous."
"What are you doing?" Unexpectedly, "Talking Tom," wearing sunglasses, jumped up on the spot, snatched the potion, and instead of immediately using it on his companion, he first dripped a few drops onto my hand and spread the potion evenly. "...This guy is just occasionally a little paranoid. You don't need to prove yourself this way!"
"Really... how come you're all like this..." he muttered, then frowned and carefully examined my wound, as if he were a doctor and I was a patient he had to save, his face very serious.
...It's just a minor injury.
In Kukuroku Mountain, wounds of this severity are commonplace; no one would even consider treating me.
When he returned home, even if he had temporarily lost an arm, his mother would simply ignore it.
This is the first time someone has ever been so worried about a wound of this severity... Even a real doctor probably wouldn't react this way.
That's an exaggeration.
“I’m not trying to prove myself,” I blinked as I watched him work on my wound. “I just want you to give me the medication.”
This idea wasn't out of good intentions, but just a spur-of-the-moment thought, much like how Illumi would occasionally have a sudden burst of kindness and sweep away "trash" blocking his way.
...However, explaining too much seems pointless.
After saying that, I said nothing more.
The medicine was applied evenly, and the man put his hand down, then began to give me detailed instructions, just like a doctor:
"Don't get it wet these next few days, and take care of the wound..."
I listened absentmindedly, letting the words go in one ear and out the other, my mind blank, until he had finished explaining all the trivial details before I asked:
So would you give your friend medication?
He fell silent for a moment.
The blond youth, who had been observing coldly, finally made a move. He stood up, walked over, and silently took the medicine bottle from his companion's hand.
“I don’t need it,” he said.
The man in sunglasses wore a complex expression that was hard to describe. He seemed quite dissatisfied, yet also a little worried and anxious. In the end, he couldn't say anything, only keeping his eyes fixed on his companion.
His handsome blond companion, however, seemed oblivious to his worries, calmly finding a place to sit down with his back straight and his posture upright; he even placed both hands on his knees.
……ah.
I remember now.
I seem to have glimpsed this overly dignified sitting posture a few years ago.
But when exactly?
I tried hard to recall, but my memory remained shrouded in a white fog, unable to reveal its true form.
A moment of silence fell over the surroundings, and no one spoke.
Until a buzzing sound came from the blond youth, who took out his phone and glanced at the incoming message.
He then put down his phone and said to his companion, "Let's go back."
“But…” The man in sunglasses seemed to have a disagreement.
The blond youth added, "It's not the first time... I'll stay here and they won't find me. You've already helped me a lot. Leave the rest to me. I probably won't be dealing with them again anytime soon. You don't need to worry."
After saying these words, he closed his eyes, like a sculpture—the kind of sculpture that was more beautiful than any I had ever seen at the exhibition—showing an attitude that he didn't want to talk to anyone.
...
Unable to persuade his stubborn companion, the man in sunglasses pushed open the door and left.
The moment the door closed, the blond youth said to me, "Please hand over your phone, Miss Adrian."
He opened his eyes, turned his face, and his dark eyes were cold and suppressed:
"If you leave now, I cannot guarantee your safety. Please wait here for the time being."
The posture was a bit intimidating.
But compared to Illumi, he is quite amiable.
I handed over my phone.
He didn't even glance at the phone; after taking it, he placed it beside him, his every move exuding a sense of distance.
“Someone else will be here next,” he said to me. “If you feel uncomfortable, please bear with it. My conversation with him won’t last long.”
Thinking back to the words I heard when he took me away, I had a strange intuition: the person he was waiting for was Hisoka.
But I didn't ask that name out loud.
"Okay." I simply nodded, trying my best to show my cooperation.
After explaining these two things, he closed his eyes again, leaned against the corner of the wall, and sat upright as always.
"Have we met somewhere before?" I finally couldn't help but ask him.
“Miss Adrian has probably mistaken you for someone else,” he said.
“If I haven’t met you before,” I asked again, “how do you know my name?”
“Many people know Adrian,” he said calmly. “I’m not the only one who matters.”
What you said makes a lot of sense, but I still feel like something's not right, but I can't come up with any evidence, so the situation has reached a stalemate.
Just then, a rhythmic knocking sounded on the door.
The blond youth then opened his eyes, slowly got up, and walked towards the door.
He opened the door and turned to the side, allowing me a glimpse of the guest outside from a subtle angle—he had bright red hair, his face was covered in heavy makeup, and his strange clothes accentuated his lean waist.
It's Hisoka.
But it was Hisoka in makeup and strange clothes.
I quietly moved a little to the corner, not wanting him to notice me for the time being.
As soon as he came in, he started discussing things like "spider" and "troupe" with the blond youth, talking about the pros and cons of the situation...
Although he had vaguely guessed it from the blond youth's words, those guesses were only confirmed at this moment: the group chasing him and the group he was trying to capture were the Phantom Troupe.
No wonder we ended up together; it turns out we were all eyeing the same group of people. What a small world!
I think.
Hisoka entered the room.
During a break in our conversation, he glanced at me with his golden eyes, then abruptly looked away, as if he didn't recognize me, and asked in a questioning tone:
"Oh dear, there's another guest here. Does she have some connection to the tour group?"
The blond youth did not answer.
Hisoka turned to me again, and that frivolous smile reappeared on his face, as if he were plotting something.
“It looks really cute~ If it’s not related to your plans, why don’t you leave it to me?” he said.
I watched his performance quietly.
“I refuse,” the blond youth raised his hand, the chains wrapped around it clanging metallically once more. “She is my responsibility.”
Hisoka seemed to have heard a particularly funny joke, and he couldn't help but laugh as he repeated the weighty word in an odd tone: "Responsibility... for little Rai?"
At that moment, he suddenly stopped pretending not to know me and walked towards me calmly.
The blond youth swung the chain without hesitation as he moved, but Hisoka caught it with his own hand, and the chain seemed to come alive as it spontaneously wrapped around his arm.
The two were locked in a standoff.
But their gazes didn't linger on each other at all; instead, they were all focused on me.
In this tense situation, Hisoka leaned down, his gaze level with mine, one hand still locked behind his back, and said suggestively:
"How sad, little Lai! I'm trying to save you now!"
"Hmm..." I hesitated for a moment, blinked, and asked innocently, "So?"
Hisoka asked, "Aren't you going with them? Those bad guys over there said they'd take responsibility for you and won't let you go~"
He actually has the nerve to call others bad guys.
This statement makes me very interested.
"But I do prefer bad guys," I laughed, "...Why don't you two fight it out and let me see who's worse, then I'll go with them."
To make my point more convincing, I raised my hand and shook the silver, shimmering ring between my fingers:
"If you win, I might really throw this away this time."
"Ugh—" Hisoka puffed out his cheeks and complained, "Little Rai is so mean, what if I have to fight with him then?"
“Yes,” I asked, “so you want to be the bad guy?”
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