How to Stop the Villain from Going Crazy
Translator: Fuyu
Chapter 47 - When can I… see your face? (2)
Her back felt clammy. From head to toe, she could feel her sweat dripping down as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head.
After a long time, he spoke. His cold and low voice made her ears feel numb. "Letter?"
Bo Li rubbed her ears with her shoulders. It had been too long since she heard his voice. Every word he spoke gave her goosebumps.
"I knew about their intentions from the beginning," she said in a calm voice, "I wanted to give you their letters, but you suddenly disappeared. I was worried you would misunderstand and think I'm in cahoots with them, so I wrote a letter to explain and placed it on their letters before leaving. The letters are on the desk in the hotel room. Did you not see them?"
He didn't respond.
Bo Li didn't need him to answer. She continued saying, "I don't care what they said or what you look like… I only care that you saved me several times. Without you, I would have died in the circus."
That was the truth. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have known that Richard attempted to partner up with the manager instead of following her plan of stealing her backpack.
"Do you think…" She took a deep breath. "That I chose you over the manager because I was sure you could kill the manager? That wasn't it. I knew the manager didn't want me. There are many ways to open a backpack, but there's only one of you. I knew very well that he was trying to drive a wedge between us. He wanted you to feel as if you were attacked from all sides. He wanted you to be in an amendable state, so he could convince you to go back and continue working for him."
Half truth, half lie.
She knew about the manager's plan, but she also knew that Erik could definitely kill the manager.
"In the past, I didn't know what kind of person you were." She swallowed her saliva. "But now, I trust my judgment over other people's words. The manager said you're cold-blooded and ruthless, extremely dangerous… After spending so many days together, I think you're not dangerous. I think you're a very kind person."
Erik suddenly asked, "Kind?"
"Do you remember what the manager said in the woods? That you're a serious criminal in Persia. He gave you freedom… He said you're an ungrateful person that didn't repay his kindness, but I think you already repaid him. Mike treated you so badly. He tied you to a horse and had you dragged. You had ten thousand ways to kill him, but you didn't. Isn't that repayment?"
He didn't speak.
"Boyd kept saying you're the devil, a malevolent spirit." She slowly exhaled. "'But in my eyes, you're an all-round genius with a kind heart. I'll never believe you're a malevolent spirit."
Bo Li felt thirsty from speaking so much. She felt like she had added 180 layers of beautification on him.
And yet, he remained dangerously silent.
Her heart felt like it was being squeezed.
Had she gone too far with her exaggeration? Whether Erik was a kind person was up for debate, but it was true that he was merciful to the people that saved him.
If she hadn't tried to save him by cleaning his injuries and feeding him medicine on the first day she transmigrated, then with his cold and paranoid personality, he would have probably killed her a long time ago.
Her heart was wildly beating to the point that her chest ached. She could feel the cold sweat trickling down her cheeks.
She couldn't figure out his attitude, so she could only force herself to continue speaking, "The reason I'm not looking at the portrait and keeping my eyes closed isn't because I'm scared to see what you look like. It's because I'm waiting for… the right time."
He finally spoke. "When?"
"... When you allow me to see your face," she answered. Her voice was a bit hoarse from her tense throat.
Erik stared at her with a cold, judging gaze.
Before coming here, he had thought of many possibilities.
He had read the letter she left on the desk, but he thought it was most likely a ruse to lure him to this house.
He had watched as she chatted with Boyd on the way here.
Even though Boyd had lost a finger, he was still a handsome young man with a refined manner. He was an impeccable gentleman.
He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her lace gloves. They were an ideal couple, like the protagonists in a French novel.
He watched the carriage stop in front of the house. She disembarked from the carriage, took off her cloak in a natural manner, revealed her shirt and pants, and handed over her revolver.
In his eyes, human bodies were the same.
Just like how a beast wouldn't feel shame if its prey lost its fur, he wouldn't feel embarrassed from seeing someone's bare flesh.
And yet, her body's slender, graceful lines were like a soldering iron or thorny undergrowth that suddenly forced their way into his eyes.
His eyes felt swollen and painful. The veins in his temples were pounding, and it felt like his heartbeat was squeezed into his eyes.
Perhaps, she already knew that he was following her.
She refused to believe the psychic's words and resolutely didn't look at the portrait as if she knew he would kill anyone that looked at it.
She had given him too many unrealistic experiences so far.
Her every move was like a dream. Only people in dreams would so resolutely choose and believe him.
Like a ghost, he reached out to cover her eyes. He didn't want her to see such a horrifying scene.
But soon, he coldly thought; if this was a dream, then he chose to wake up.
However, she held his hand, kissed his palm, and rubbed her cheek against his palm. She also said he was a kind person and an all-around genius.
Before this moment, the only time he felt indescribable shame was when she looked at him.
But at this moment, her thoughts, her words, her tone, her closed eyes, her lips as they opened and closed, the tongue between her lips, and even her breathing… it all made him feel a frightful shame.
It felt almost unbearable.
It was as if she was tracing his appearance with her eyes while sticking her finger into his wound and stirring her finger around until she found a sensitive nerve.
His expression was gloomy. He had to use almost all of his self-control to suppress that overwhelming feel of shame and not kill her on the spot.
Bo Li didn't know that her words had almost led to her death. She was thinking about how to move the topic forward.
Waiting wouldn't give her answers, but if she asked questions, she might risk angering him.
She thought it over, slightly tilted her head, and tried to make her tone sound innocent and gentle. "I've told you my thoughts. Whether you believe me or not, I don't think there's any misunderstanding between us. But, I still want to ask you something. Can I?"
No reply.
That meant he wanted her to continue talking.
"When can I… see your face?"
This time, he answered very quickly. His voice was cold and decisive. "Never."
Translator Ramblings: "...while sticking her finger into his wound and stirring her finger around until she found a sensitive nerve." I wonder if this is Erik's version of butterflies in his stomach.
T/N: Monday’s part will be late