The Boss Wants to Die - Chapter 10

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The boss wants to die
Episode 10
“Surely you don’t mean to drag that brutish, oversized Priest of Primordial back here just because of a cute, delicate little bat like me…?”
“Yes. Bring him.”
“Eeeek.”
“Stop whining and hurry up.”
Heart whimpered and bit Akt’s collar, fluttering with all her might.
A dazzling female Player, a rare bat Familiar, and a Priest as imposing as a Berserker.
Even without the epithet “Evil God,” it was a Party composition that drew every eye.
I left the Hunting Ground without knowing that someone was watching.
***
Crackle.
Late into the night.
Akt stirred awake from unconsciousness, but froze midway through sitting up.
It was the sight of Rouen sprawled nearby, sleeping soundly along with her bat Familiar.
Akt’s pitch-black eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Still reckless as ever, I see.”
It seemed she’d carried his unconscious form into the room at the Inn, grown bored, and simply collapsed into sleep without another thought.
He gathered her hair with a black Rubber Band that lay scattered across the shelf and lifted Rouen into his arms.
His thick, muscular forearm sank into the hollow of her knee, matching the width of her calf.
Akt rose effortlessly, cradling her in his muscled frame.
For an Evil God, she weighed surprisingly little.
“Mmm…”
She frowned and stirred within his broad chest.
Her robe shifted, spilling a luxuriant cascade of black hair.
Catching the heady rose fragrance she carried, Akt’s brow narrowed slightly.
His lowered gaze fixed on Rouen’s crimson lips with an almost hungry intensity.
“Always making trouble for me, aren’t you.”
Wrinkling his nose bridge, Akt carefully fastened her robe more snugly.
Then he laid her on the bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
Her bat companion, which she always kept close, he deposited beside her by the wing.
Heart was so unnecessarily round that she rolled about whenever carelessly placed.
Squeak, squeak, squeak.
The mattress screamed under the weight of his muscle-laden frame as Akt sat at the bed’s edge.
He gazed down at Rouen in silence.
Perhaps because such a low-Level environment was new to him, she had let her guard down completely, sleeping peacefully.
“If only she’d stay asleep like this.”
Akt said something terrifying without the slightest hesitation.
He lifted the wave of her flowing hair into his palm.
Silky-smooth, it gleamed like a doll’s nylon hair, artificially polished to a shine.
The opposite of his own coloring, he scraped the black with his thumbnail and narrowed his eyes to slits.
His hand moved to her lower lashes, spread like a fan.
The face that became cold whenever she saw him now appeared as gentle as a child’s.
When those hidden crimson eyes gazed directly at him, he sometimes felt an impulse he could scarcely contain.
Now it was an impulse that felt like nothing more than a child’s play.
Accustomed to base greed, he suppressed all manner of vicious desires as easily as handling feathers, then snorted derisively.
“Rouen.”
His long, pale fingers traced her nape with care.
“I’m sorry for putting the Collar on you. You won’t believe it, but I never wanted this.”
“….”
“But there was no choice. I had to abandon all scruples to match your pace.”
A bitter smile touched his lips.
“I was too naive. I didn’t know it would become poison.”
So now, I won’t be.
Akt murmured quietly.
“Why didn’t you just play along a little? Hmm?”
Why didn’t you.
Why…
You knew—you had to know—that I can’t abandon you.
Akt’s black eyes, overflowing with affection, twisted and corrupted, gleaming with a dark, sinister light.
Yet he soon suppressed the emotion, closing his eyes tight, then opening them again.
Behind the mask, his gaze lay hollow and desiccated.
Akt rose slowly from his seat, then pressed a hand to his head.
“Ugh.”
The intermittent headaches were back.
Akt irritably massaged his temples, lifting his bloodshot eyes.
“Status Window.”
He confirmed his Class clearly displayed in the profession field—Priest of Primordial—then closed the window.
Everything was proceeding smoothly.
So far, at least.
He reached habitually for the Whiskey he’d left on the bedside shelf.
But he quickly realized there wasn’t a drop left in the bottle.
“Tch.”
With no other choice, he rinsed his parched mouth with cold water and headed downstairs to the Inn.
His throat was raw.
It wouldn’t settle without pouring something hot and potent down it.
[Akt’s Sacred Power has decreased by 1.]
The System Window materialized the moment he put distance between himself and Rouen.
He brushed it away like an annoying fly and continued on his way.
“Don’t lecture me. It’s not as if I’m planning to drink all day.”
Akt drawled the reproach in a weary voice tinged with a sigh.
“Can’t I have just one glass of Whiskey?”
[Akt’s Sacred Power has decreased by 1.]
“So I’m supposed to convert worshippers of the Evil God, and now I can’t even drink?”
[Akt’s Sacred Power has decreased by 1.]
Akt rubbed the space between his brows with irritated eyes.
“She’s gotten awfully full of herself.”
[Akt’s Health Points have decreased by 1.]
He shook his head as though it were absurd.
His Health Points and Sacred Power would normalize the moment he returned to Rouen’s side, so there was no reason to worry about them.
It was a matter of temperament, nothing more.
“She wants me to go mad at her side? Alcohol is a relaxant. Drinking does her good as much as it does mine.”
[Akt’s Mana Points have decreased by 1.]
“…Doesn’t it seem I’ve already lost my mind?”
Mana Points were a gauge that decreased whenever he used a Healing Skill or cast magic.
He could recover them by drinking a mana potion or getting sufficient sleep.
Since a higher Intellect Stat increased the maximum Mana Points gauge, it bore considerable relation to mental fortitude.
“So you’ve taken to tormenting me for entertainment?”
Akt decided not to engage further and descended the stairs.
[Random Event triggered!
A troublesome guest who visits periodically has caused a disturbance, and a Flowerpot on the second floor has fallen!]
Akt adeptly dodged the Flowerpot.
The harsh crack of ceramic shattering echoed through the air.
[The Inn proprietor, hearing the commotion, is now walking toward the location to investigate!]
[Would you like to perform an emergency teleport to your Party member (Evil God Helord)?
Time limit: 5 seconds.]
“Damn.”
Akt wiped his exhausted face with a dry hand.
The numbers in the System Window glittered noisily, pressing an unspoken urgency.
Akt ultimately dismissed the window and faced the proprietor.
“Is something the matter?”
“A Flowerpot suddenly fell.”
The proprietor gave Akt a suspicious once-over.
“It wasn’t you, was it?”
“I was just heading up.”
Akt lied with composure.
“I’m not two people—I hardly could’ve knocked it over while climbing the stairs.”
“Where were you headed?”
“To my room. That’s where my Party member is.”
“Ah, forgive me for suspecting! Run along upstairs—I’ll clean this up right away!”
Akt turned back before heading upstairs and asked a question.
“Could you bring a bottle of Whiskey to my room?”
“What, do you think this is some fancy establishment? Go drink it downstairs yourself.”
“I’ll pay double the price.”
The innkeeper’s eyebrows shot up at the surprisingly tempting offer.
“In that case, don’t go up—wait a moment. I’ll fetch it right away. Do you have a preference for which Whiskey?”
“Mother Slime’s Viscous Tears should do nicely. I hear it’s a local specialty.”
“It is, but it’s quite strong, you know?”
“That’s fine.”
The innkeeper said nothing more and retrieved the Whiskey from the cellar.
It was an expensive bottle, as potent as it was rare.
“Just don’t throw up on the bed.”
Having finally secured a bottle of spirits, Akt carried it back to his room.
‘I should drink this with Rouen nearby. That’s better than getting thrown out of the inn.’
Akt remembered the shattered flowerpot and rubbed the deep furrow that had formed between his brows.
When he returned to the room, Rouen was already awake and retying Heart’s disheveled ribbon.
She rose casually from Akt’s bed and greeted him.
“Where did you go?”
Rouen’s rose-red eyes rolled toward the Whiskey in his hand.
“You’re drinking the moment you wake up?”
“Why were you sleeping in my bed?”
Akt poured the viscous green liquor into a Crystal Glass as he spoke.
“Why? It doesn’t matter, does it?”
…….
“Is it bothering you?”
He quietly brought the glass to his lips.
“How strong is that? It looks potent.”
“Haven’t checked.”
He savored the sweet taste lingering on his tongue before taking another sip.
The sharp pain that had been throbbing in his head began to ease into a dull warmth.
“If you’re going to drink, do it downstairs.”
“I have my reasons.”
“A Priest drinking like this……”
Rouen’s expression shifted from mild concern to a mischievous grin, her canines flashing.
“Why don’t you just switch to being a Fallen Priest?”
“I’d like that. Being capable is such a burden.”
Rouen let out a sharp laugh.
“You already look like a Fallen Priest, so don’t worry about seeming too competent.”
“If I’m only this fallen, it’s hardly interesting.”
Akt drained the Whiskey in one long draught, his eyes growing heavy.
“If you want to see something more corrupted, I can oblige.”
…….
“Is that what you want? It could be fun.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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