Chapter 24
The pungent, metallic smell of iron grew stronger. Oda Sakunosuke did not answer the other person's question, but instead turned his gaze to the corpse on the ground.
All of them died instantly from a single shot, either through the jaw, or in the temple, or even with blood pooling from the chest.
Oda Sakunosuke astutely noticed that two of them even had signs of localized fractures, indicating that they had at least engaged in close combat with the enemy before their deaths.
Are you watching them?
Dosto released his knuckles, which had left deep marks from biting them, and spoke in a low voice, as if reciting a sacred proverb, "They have fallen into hell, and the Kingdom of Heaven has not forgiven their sins."
"If you ask why,"
—He raised his hand and explained softly, subtly blending his disdain into seemingly humble and respectful words.
"Because they committed suicide. They broke the commandment that you shall not murder."
Oda Sakunosuke looked directly at him as he delivered those lines, his expression unwavering for a moment.
He realized that he seemed to have returned to the moment of their first meeting. The boy in front of him was no longer Fyodor, who had invited him to be his friend and asked him to teach him Japanese, [illegible], and many other things, but rather a kind of "evil" that was elegant in speech but extremely dangerous in substance, chaotic and unknown.
[Oda Sakunosuke, if I suddenly fall into a deep sleep afterward,]
Ye Yihe, who would sit on the tatami mat and learn from him how to maintain guns with pine oil, once told him, "Just pretend you don't know me."
[I know you can tell the difference between him and me. So, even if we're face to face, you have to pretend you don't know me.]
Oda Sakunosuke was unaware that Ye Yihe explained it this way because the system would rationalize Dostoevsky's memories—as long as Oda Sakunosuke was still classified as a stranger by Dostoevsky, his proportion in Dostoevsky's self-reconstructed rational memories would be smaller, and he might even become a temporary trading partner.
But the current situation is far beyond Ye Yihe's expectations: he was kidnapped, and the incident was resolved at the same time as he killed the kidnapper. He returned his body to Tuosi, without even having a chance to send out a warning.
Unaware of this, Oda Sakunosuke rushed to the rescue, and the two met the moment he called out the name.
With just this one sound, Dostoevsky's past memories were quickly scattered and reshaped, covering them with a more reasonable and seamless experience of getting along.
The bite marks disappeared, his nails became rounded again, and his "whim" returned.
But everything seemed so natural in retrospect. He accepted the invitation from the [V] organization to go to the theater, but was instead imprisoned in a detention center because his smuggled identity was exposed. There, he met Oda Sakunosuke, a top young assassin who was in the same cell.
Then, knowing the location of [V]'s hideout, he made a deal with the man in the kimono, in exchange for his release from the police and the acquisition of legal status, after which he parted ways with the teenage killer.
Sizzle.
In the instant I heard that "Fyodor...!", my brain seemed to freeze, with a flurry of noise like flashing snowflakes. Old paradoxical memories were erased, and new, rational logic was replaced.
He later established a cooperative relationship with the teenage assassin, with the aim of completely eliminating the trouble left behind by the [V] organization.
The plan to kidnap Natsume Soseki failed. The cunning and shrewd man even turned the tables and was using all his power to try to find out who was behind it all. One by one, the spies planted in the government were "disappearing".
In that case, what he needs to do is to wipe out all the remaining members of the [V] organization who are still active outside, especially the few high-ranking members who know his identity.
Oda Sakunosuke, a master of assassination, was the perfect tool.
This memory is perfectly plausible. He pretended to betray them, using himself as bait to catch a big fish; then, with a few shrewd words, he easily made them kill each other, with the survivors taking their own lives.
The dull pain in his knuckles intensified, and Doss looked at Oda Sakunosuke, who had barged in, and uttered a name he had never heard before.
A nickname that wasn't in his reasonable memory.
—No one could stop him, after all, it was just a whim of his, wasn't it?
It was just a test.
The other party showed no doubt or denial; every observable micro-expression indicated that the other party had heard him call him that and was used to it.
The reaction to "the rat in the dead house" indicates that the other person has never heard of it before and is only unfamiliar with the term.
And keep an extra watchful eye on him.
Facing the raised gun barrel, Dostoevsky made no move. He remained elegant and refined in his chair, the smile on his lips unchanged, only his gaze toward Oda Sakunosuke deepened slightly.
Are you going to shoot me?
"I've never heard of 'The House of the Dead,' and I don't intend to have any companions or superiors."
Compared to Dostoevsky's composed demeanor, Oda Sakunosuke's voice was low and cold, as if he had reverted to his personality before meeting Ye Yihe: "I will not go to your organization."
After he finished speaking, Oda Sakunosuke slowly lowered his gun.
It wasn't that he judged the other party to be no threat to him; on the contrary, he had already activated his superpower—[Seamless]—as he raised his gun.
This ability to foresee five to six seconds into the future within his field of vision allows him to naturally anticipate and dodge sudden attacks, sniping, or explosions; it also gives him enough time to pull the trigger several times and observe the opponent's reaction.
It was this unique talent, different from that of ordinary people, that made him a top assassin in the industry.
If the opponent has any measures to retaliate or evade, I can know them in advance simply by activating my special ability and formulate tactics accordingly.
In Oda Sakunosuke's vision of the future, he did indeed pull the trigger on Fyodor in front of him.
But the bullet pierced his chest without resistance, blood splattering onto the walls and windowpanes. His body, rapidly losing its warmth, slumped from the wooden chair to the ground—
*Clang*, the scene disappears, and we return to reality.
Oda Sakunosuke was puzzled for a moment.
At this moment, less than five seconds have passed in the future vision, so [Seamless] should still be activated.
What happened after the body fell to the ground?
Oda Sakunosuke couldn't figure it out, but at least he knew that doing so wouldn't cause Fyodor's other personality to emerge, so he simply gave up on firing the gun.
Of course, he also declined Fyodor's invitation.
"Is the answer a no..."
Tuosi tilted his head slightly, the strands of hair falling in front of his eyes partially obscuring his gaze. "It's a bit of a shame, he really wanted you to join."
“…Him?” Oda Sakunosuke asked.
Yes, him.
—Doss spread his hands, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Although he didn’t mention the ‘Rats in the House of the Dead’ to you, I know everything.”
"Because I possess all my past memories."
【he】.
Dostoevsky used a seemingly plausible personal pronoun and a seemingly plausible statement.
There is no explicit mention of any particular person, and every word spoken is true.
If Ye Yihe were still conscious at this moment, upon hearing this, he would definitely warn the system—[Hey, he's exploiting a loophole in your judgment system to trick you into revealing information.]
However, the system could not discern the implied meaning in these words, which seemed to refer to other people. The program, constructed from strings, monitored and reviewed these sentences and then gave them the green light.
"……Yeah."
Oda Sakunosuke would interpret Dostoevsky's phrase "knows everything" as a privilege of the dominant personality.
Since the other person is the main personality of this body, it is not surprising that they have the memories of the secondary personality.
Not to mention that he just called out "Oda-saku" instead of "Oda-kun" as he did when they first met.
Although the alternate personality Fyodor emphasized to him that he should pretend not to know the main personality, this plan was thwarted from the start.
Right now, Oda Sakunosuke is facing Fyodor, who has the same body and the same face, but with a slightly different personality and very polite manner. Although his vigilance has not disappeared, he has begun to waver a little.
If this is his unspoken expectation... should you agree to join the "House of the Dead"?
Oda Sakunosuke's expression clearly showed hesitation, as if he was considering what the other person had said.
He had received invitations to join many organizations in the past, but he rejected them all without exception.
For him, the unconditional obedience to his superiors was more unbearable than carrying out assassin work alone.
But if it's Fyodor who puts his hands together in prayer, smiling and begging him...
Oda Sakunosuke's thoughts drifted for a moment, then he suddenly remembered how the other person defined this relationship—friends.
My answer is still no.
After a long silence, he spoke again, "I can help him, but I will not take your orders."
Oda Sakunosuke's words are quite clear.
If you're just offering help, you can do it without joining the "House of the Dead".
"I see."
Dostoevsky, however, seemed to have already heard the correct answer, and smiled with great pleasure.
Even though Oda Sakunosuke was certain that there was no hint of a smile in the other person's eyes, nor was the other person truly happy.
"That's fine too."
With his boots sinking into the slightly sticky pool of blood, Dostoevsky stood up from his chair.
The black cloak with white fur trim that Dostoevsky was wearing was custom-made by a tailor for Oda Sakunosuke, and along with the white felt hat with ear flaps, it was still completely unstained by blood.
It did get a little dusty, which Tuosi noticed and gently patted away.
"If Oda Sakunosuke changes his mind later, I would welcome it at any time."
He spoke in a very friendly tone, and his Japanese was far more fluent and standard than Ye Yihe's, who had practiced diligently for a long time. "I hope we meet again in the future."
"You silenced all of them,"
Oda Sakunosuke stared intently into Dostoevsky's dark blue eyes, his tone returning to its usual businesslike indifference when addressing clients: "Aren't you planning to include me?"
After all, he knew far more information than the people lying on the ground.
Not to mention the less than five-second glimpse of the future he saw with his special ability, which was exceptionally eerie. His intuition, honed by years of work, also told him that attacking the other party at this moment would put him in grave danger.
"Hmm? I don't intend to do that."
Upon hearing this, Dostoevsky had already passed Oda Sakunosuke, but then paused slightly.
The sweet, pungent smell still lingered in the room. After a moment of deathly silence, Tuosi turned around, and finally a faint, indifferent, yet genuine smile appeared on his lips.
"I want to see what the possibilities are."
"An interesting variable that was outside my prediction."
……………………
The noise and commotion were far away from him.
There seemed to be sharp sirens blaring and loudspeakers shouting something, but his senses were as if they were submerged at the bottom of the sea, and everything he heard seemed exceptionally hazy and distant.
When Ye Yihe woke up, his head was still buzzing and his vision was black, as if he had been punched hard.
He instinctively raised his hand to cover his head, and before he could touch the furry earmuffs, he was startled by the sudden sharp pain and let out a soft hiss.
I could feel warm liquid sliding down between my fingers, which most likely meant I was bleeding, and quite a bit of it.
What's going on? Did some bastard beat up the original owner of this body? Don't let him know who it was.
The original owner was the one who was hit, but he is the one who is suffering the pain now. So hitting the original owner is the same as hitting him – this is a blatant provocation!
During the brief wait for his vision to return, Ye Yihe had already sentenced the other party to death in his mind.
After the dizziness subsided, he let go of his hand and found that there was indeed some dark blood on his fingers, indicating that he was seriously injured and needed to be treated as soon as possible.
When Ye Yihe raised his eyes again, he finally saw his situation clearly.
This is a rather grand lobby with a high, wide, and modern dome. There are large glass partitions everywhere, and a glass chandelier with intricate crystal pendants hangs high in the center.
Looking to the left, you can see a whole row of empty, enclosed counters; looking to the right, the waiting chairs are now unoccupied, and many people are huddled in the corner in fear.
He himself sat against the wall on the smooth marble floor, along with many other people.
Ye Yihe made a rough identification and realized that they were all typical Europeans. He could tell at a glance that they had left Japan and were probably forced to follow the original owner to some other country.
Not far away stood three tall, burly men, fully armed and wearing hoods. Two of them were holding guns and watching them, while the other was confronting the special police outside the door.
Ye Yihe had never encountered such a scenario in real life, but he had seen it countless times in movies and TV shows.
"Child, are you alright?"
No one knows what happened before he woke up, but at this moment an old woman was looking at him with great concern, and even gently touched the part of his head that was throbbing with pain.
She appeared to be trying to find something to stop his bleeding, but the bank's essential first-aid kit was too far away, and she would be yelled at by the robbers if she tried to leave.
"I'm so sorry, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been hit with a gun butt..."
Ye Yihe's body stiffened; no, it was more like he was frozen in place.
It wasn't because the kind-faced, gentle old woman was too close, but because of the way she spoke.
And there were also the indistinct whispers coming from the surrounding area.
This is described as very beautiful and pleasant to listen to, but when spoken too quickly, it always sounds like a tight, phlegm-like sound, though overall the pronunciation is still relatively gentle...
Huh? Could it be French?
It's definitely not Russian, Chinese, or Japanese!
...No way?! Just how fast can this guy run?!
Ye Yihe's native language has almost evolved into speechlessness.
Well, all his hard work learning Russian and Japanese has been wasted in an instant!
And then there's Fyodor, the guy whose account he took over. Isn't his language talent a bit too good? He's fluent in several foreign languages?!
What is he supposed to do?! Good grief, he always starts off speechless!
Ye Yihe, expressionless, looked as if he were about to crack open.
But he can't break yet, because there's a well-dressed old lady next to him waiting for his response.
"…………"
Ye Yihe could only manage a forced smile and gently shook his head at her, indicating that he was alright.
He only knows one basic French phrase, "bonjour" (hello), which was taught to him by his college roommate, whose second foreign language was French.
In such a tense and anxious moment, it was clearly inappropriate for him to bonjour anyone.
The old woman seemed still very worried, but there was nothing more she could do at the moment. She could only clasp her hands together in front of her chest with a sorrowful expression and pray silently.
Ye Yihe glanced at the prayer posture and felt it was quite similar to the Eastern Orthodox Church he had previously been to—but the Eastern Orthodox Church itself is a branch of Christianity, and he couldn't quite figure out the subtle differences.
On another note, he remembered that the original owner was a highly intelligent outlaw who strictly adhered to elegance and restraint. How come he was now being used as a hostage by the bank robbers and even had his head hit with a gun butt?
If he were told that the original owner of this body had robbed the bank with the robbers, he wouldn't find it particularly strange...
So, the mission this time is to deal with bank robbers?
"Bring Pascal Monuri to us!" shouted the robber standing in the doorway. "Get that bastard out here!"
They were also responding through a loudspeaker outside, the sound mixed with buzzing electrical interference, seemingly just negotiating with him to buy time, with no intention of meeting their demands at all.
Ye Yihe listened attentively for only a few sentences before withdrawing his attention, not wanting to waste time on those repetitive remarks.
The wound on his head seemed to have stopped bleeding on its own, with only a few strands of black hair at his temples soaked in blood and sticking stickily to his face.
Instead of taking action, Ye Yihe felt that what he needed to consider at the moment was how to naturally attract a single kidnapper without making him wary of him.
As he was deep in thought, his cloak was suddenly tugged gently by a hand.
Turning his head, Ye Yihe saw that it was a little girl holding up a band-aid to him with both hands, with a big smile on her face, "For brother."
Just as Ye Yihe was about to reach out to take it, the armed robber stopped him, shouting, "Hey, don't move!"
Along with these words, he raised the gun in his hand with a threatening air.
“…”
He was determined to get his hands on it.
Ye Yihe ignored him and continued to stretch his finger forward.
Since they had hit him with the butt of a gun earlier, it proved that the robbers had no intention of shooting the hostage; and since he had already been attacked, his thin physique looked very weak, and the robbers were almost completely unaware of him.
Sure enough, one of the burly men immediately lost his temper, angrily striding over, intending to teach him a lesson.
A hushed gasp suddenly rang out from the side.
Even the little girl with light blonde hair immediately pursed her lips, looking like she was about to cry, but her hand was still stubbornly outstretched.
Ye Yihe's attention seemed completely elsewhere, not on the approaching robber, but solely focused on obtaining the band-aid—the robber was just three steps away—two steps—just as he was about to take the final step forward—
Thump!
Ye Yihe lowered his body, and instead of reaching for the band-aid, he continued to support himself on the ground. Using this as a fulcrum and center of gravity, he twisted his body and performed a clean and neat sweeping leg kick, catching the robber who was still moving forward off guard and causing him to fall heavily to the ground!
He doesn't understand French, but he understands freestyle fighting.
This is precisely the core principle of Jeet Kune Do in combating enemies—flowing, flexible thinking and swift, accurate, and unpredictable attacks.
Before the fallen robber could utter a curse, Ye Yihe had already picked up the pistol that had been thrown away, cocked it, released the safety, and aimed in one smooth motion, then turned it on another burly robber who was still armed.
"wait--"
Before the other person could finish speaking, Ye Yihe pulled the trigger.
Why wait? He won't wait. Villains die from talking too much, while heroes are basically defeated by being too soft-hearted.
Immediately following the first shot, the next two shots rang out almost without interval. Ye Yihe aimed very accurately and took down the three robbers with three shots, leaving them only able to wail and surrender.
He didn't aim for the vital points, after all, Ye Yihe was unsure whether French regulations included the concept of excessive self-defense, and he didn't intend to personally experience the local prison culture every time he arrived in a new country.
The situation changed in the blink of an eye, leaving everyone else in the bank stunned.
The police officers who had been gathered outside were also stunned, not quite understanding why the robber who had just been talking had suddenly collapsed.
Exhaling, Ye Yihe tossed his pistol aside and gestured for the others to leave safely.
I am truly grateful for Oda Sakunosuke's special training.
And then there's himself; how prescient his decision was!
—After a brief silence, cheers erupted in the lobby.
Upon seeing the hostages emerge, the police immediately realized that something had happened inside and quickly went to the lobby to take over the situation.
Ye Yihe stood against the wall at the edge of the crowd, his expression gradually shifting from anticipation to silence.
Subduing the bank robbers wasn't even the best thing he was supposed to do...
How long will he be staying in France this time? Will he have to start intensively studying French again?
Ye Yihe silently gazed at the sky, speechless: …………
Good heavens, is he bound to a resurrection system or a multilingual crash course simulator?
Even language learning simulators have never been this complicated!
Ye Yihe, feeling utterly dejected, began his usual routine of checking his pockets, only to discover that the passport he had obtained in Japan was still being carried by the original owner of the body – a piece of good news amidst bad news.
At least this time they won't be arrested as illegal immigrants.
Even though the hostages would be released soon, he was still the one who subdued the kidnapper. To avoid being questioned by the police about the details of what happened, Ye Yihe, whose wound was still bleeding, decided to pretend to faint.
Once he gets to the hospital, he can find a chance to sneak away.
He had no desire to deal with the trouble that would follow, especially since he didn't understand French at all—the thought of being interviewed on the news was bizarre.
Imagine if the original owner woke up later and saw himself on TV as a hero who did something righteous, with newspapers bearing his picture being sold everywhere on the streets, and people discussing his amazing gun-grabbing moment. Even if the system ran the command line and it went on fire, it probably wouldn't be able to clean it up.
Ye Yihe spotted a clean patch of floor and was about to lie down and pretend to faint when the old woman who had been sitting next to him stopped him.
"Child, I've noticed you've been hiding from the police. Do you want to leave here as soon as possible?"
She spoke. Her voice was soft and fast, with some words being heavily elided when pronounced together. If the original owner of this body hadn't been so capable, Ye Yihe wouldn't have been able to understand a single word.
The noise from the other side of the lobby was loud and chaotic. Apparently, someone had recounted how he had seized the gun and killed the thief. Several police officers had already turned to look with great interest.
“…”
Ye Yihe, who had just swiftly killed the robbers, began to tense up and nodded to the old woman.
"I see."
The old woman smiled kindly. "Relax, you're a good child. I've already rescued you from your predicament, and I can't just stand by and watch you fall into trouble again."
As she spoke, she told Ye Yihe to stand behind her, while she faced the group of police officers who were walking towards them.
"Greetings, everyone."
Before they could ask any questions, the old woman introduced herself, "I am Orenbide Bernhardt, the mother of Sartre Bernhardt."
"It's Commander Bernhardt's mother! I've been so rude."
The policeman's tone immediately became very respectful, "If we had known you were here, we should have launched our attack earlier."
"If I had revealed my identity just now, my poor Anthony would have received more than just a gun butt on the head."
Grandma Bernhardt sighed and waved her hand at them. "And I don't want my children to be famous, do you understand what I mean? Think about the name the robbers just shouted, I can guess which one they're trying to prove wrong... well, a scandal."
Ye Yihe listened silently as the old woman from behind revealed her identity, even giving him a fake name, and verbally hinted to the police to keep the news under wraps and not let it leak out.
Aside from gratitude, he was curious about what kind of scandal it was, and maybe the good deed he was about to do was related to it.
"Of course, you may do whatever you wish, Your Excellency."
After a moment of silence, the policeman saluted and made way for Bernhardt's grandmother and Ye Yihe.
This also means that the kidnapping will not be the local headline news the next day.
Grandma Bernhardt smiled and led Ye Yihe out of the heavily guarded bank without incident.
Ye Yihe wanted to express his gratitude, but didn't know how to say thank you in French.
After struggling for a while, he could only manage to utter a simple "thank you" in English—a remnant of his English learning from years ago, which he hoped the French woman in front of him would understand.
“I just saw that you were holding a passport from another country,”
Grandma Bernhardt understood and asked him with a smile, "You understand, but you can't speak French?"
Ye Yihe sighed and nodded, hoping the other party would stop asking why he could speak French before being hit on the head, but now suddenly became a mute who could understand but not speak.
"At my age, I've lost the curiosity to get to the bottom of many things."
Grandma Bernhardt patted his back to comfort him, "You have a bad memory, but I only remember that you were a good boy."
Ye Yihe's eyes lit up, and he earnestly said thank you again in English.
Although he hoped to make a living by doing good deeds here using English, the most widely spoken language in the world, unfortunately, he had almost forgotten all of it and it was no longer sufficient for his daily communication.
He couldn't find his wallet on him again. How does this penniless guy, Fyodor, manage to live so elegantly...?
Therefore, when Bernhardt's grandmother tried to call a taxi to take him back, she was met with Ye Yihe shaking his head three times in response.
He didn't know the way, didn't know where he lived, and had no money on him.
Even Bernhardt, who had deliberately ignored the many unusual things about Ye Yihe, couldn't help but fall silent at this moment.
"Then that's settled."
After a moment's thought, Grandma Bernhardt clapped her hands lightly. "The security in this neighborhood has deteriorated significantly recently, and I always refuse to let those intimidating guards follow me when I go out, which led to this accident today. Fortunately, you were there to subdue them in time."
"So, may I invite you to be my bodyguard when I go out? Only while I'm away. I'll pay you at market rate, and I also have an apartment that I can rent to you at a low price. That way, you won't have to struggle to find a job to support yourself, and you'll have a place to stay."
Ye Yihe only took half a second to think before nodding and accepting the job offer.
Rather, it's more accurate to say that Bernhardt's grandmother was subtly helping him solve his problem, making it impossible for him to refuse her kindness.
Since he and Bernhardt's grandmother were now going to the same destination, they decided to take the same taxi to the apartment the grandmother had mentioned.
A three-story French-style antique building a little further from the city center. It is not very large, but you can tell from the exterior walls that the decoration is very exquisite. The delicate carvings and strict symmetry make the building very pleasing to the eye. Not to mention, there is a small courtyard in front of the building that is full of irises, locust trees and carnations, which looks like a wonderfully colored oil painting in the sunlight.
“I used to live here with my husband and son. But my husband passed away a few years ago, and my son lives in another house with his wife and daughter.”
"I thought it would be too lonely for me to live here all by myself, so I asked my son to help me convert it into an apartment."
Grandma Bernhardt smiled and introduced to Ye Yihe, "I currently live on the first floor, the third floor is rented to another tenant, and the second floor is still empty. You can move in if you don't mind."
Ye Yihe readily agreed.
He has done so many good deeds, but he has never lived in such an exquisite and high-end apartment.
Even the matter of making money was solved at the same time!
After opening the bottom door, the converted apartment has stairs leading to each floor, so that you don't have to go through your home on the second floor to get to the third floor.
"The second floor hasn't been cleaned in a long time, but it's fully furnished. You just need to buy some necessities to move in."
Grandma Bernhardt handed him a key to the front door and asked him to wait there while she went to fetch the first-aid kit. Ye Yihe's head wound was finally treated.
The once pristine white, fluffy hat now had bloodstains on the side, and Ye Yihe wasn't sure if it could be cleaned properly.
After the wound and bloodstains on his cheek were cleaned and carefully bandaged twice, Bernhardt's grandmother took him upstairs to visit their new residence.
This is a spacious and bright apartment with exquisite European-style wallpaper on all sides. The open kitchen, living room and dining room are clearly separated. The light brown fabric sofa opposite the TV looks particularly soft, but it has been covered with a layer of light gray, indicating that no one has lived here for a long time.
Ye Yihe glanced around and found that the basic appliances were all there, so there was no need to buy new ones.
But this time he came empty-handed, so he had to go to the mall to buy all the daily necessities, such as bedding, toiletries, and clean clothes.
I don't know if the other French people could understand him saying in English, "I want this, this, and this."
Grandma Bernhardt noticed his concerns. "I'd like to rest for a bit and have some tea. I'll have the residents on the third floor show you around the nearby shopping mall and you can buy some things there. I think you're about the same age, so getting acquainted might help him change his habit of almost never leaving the house when he's not working."
Ye Yihe felt that what he urgently needed right now was not a friend of the same age, but a French teacher... Speaking of which, that person doesn't like to go out anymore, would he still be willing to take him shopping?
“It’s alright, he’s a good boy. He’ll always help carry things when we see him.” Grandma Bernhardt smiled kindly. “Here, here’s a week’s salary in advance.”
Bodyguards are generally very expensive, with good ones costing several thousand euros per day.
Because Ye Yihe himself did not have any qualification certificates and did not need to accompany her at all times, Bernhardt's mother gave him three hundred euros after deducting the rent.
The basic cost of living in the area is approximately 800 to 1400 euros per month, meaning that as long as Yeikh doesn't spend money recklessly, 300 euros a week is perfectly sufficient.
Ye Yihe accepted the euros, and his English thanks became increasingly fluent and heartfelt.
Just then, Bernhardt's grandmother brought him up to the third floor and rang the doorbell.
Ye Yihe took a deep breath and prepared himself mentally.
Behind the carved wooden door, soft footsteps approached, growing ever closer.
Clack.
The door lock was turned and slowly pulled open until the person inside was fully revealed.
His light golden hair was gathered into a bunch with a ribbon and draped over his left shoulder. When he looked this way, Ye Yihe noticed that he had a pair of beautiful eyes, a light iris color that was reminiscent of the feathers of some kind of eagle, but clearer, like amber that could cast light.
The moon-white high-class gentleman's suit was perfectly tailored, without a single wrinkle visible to the naked eye. It was hard to imagine that someone would dress so well even when alone at home.
Anyone who sees it will be struck by its mystery.
Mysterious and noble.
He seems more suited to living in a palace than an apartment.
“Paul, this is Fyodor.”
On the way here, Ye Yihe had already shown Bernhardt the name on his passport, saying, "He will become our neighbor."
“Also,” she paused for a moment, “Fyodor doesn’t speak much French. Could you take him to buy some necessities?”
"Hmm...I see." After hearing the introduction, Paul's eyes flickered slightly, and he looked at Ye Yihe again. "I will follow your instructions, Madam."
After Bernhardt's grandmother left with peace of mind, only Ye Yihe remained standing there.
“It’s a pleasure to see you here, Fyodor,”
—In the space where only the two of them were, the other person smiled slightly and revealed the full name of this body, “Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky.”
“I am Paul Verlaine.”
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