Nicolo-4

Renner sat on the bed. Tusha stood by the windowsill, staring at his index finger. A small bug crawled on it, and Tusha kept flicking his finger, not letting it go but also not letting it fall.

"Silence won't solve the problem, Renner."

"I can't control myself. Back then... I didn't know anything."

"I have nothing to say. These things happen."

"Are you saying it will happen again in the future?"

"You know yourself. I'm not following you around day and night for observation."

"This can't go on. You have to cure me."

"Otherwise, what can you do? Kill me?"

"She has done so much for me. I can't..."

"Are you sure you want to continue with her? Not because Jorgen has instilled in you the concept of 'being human'?"

"It's my own decision. I love her."

"Listen, Renner." Tusha pressed the bug against the wall until it died and approached Renner. "I don't care about these things. I don't consider whether your mind has truly recovered to understand matters of love and intimacy because you know, that stuff is indeed very complicated and annoying. I just want you to have a clearer understanding of the situation, which is also a little gift for you, after all, you pulled me out of the Stromgarde. I don't need to get myself into trouble, do I? It's harsh to say, but don't forget you're an experiment yourself. The so-called experiment is inevitably prone to problems. Whether it's saying 'I love you' to that woman or letting hallucinations deceive you into cutting her face, it's all part of the problem in my eyes."

"Same goes for me. There are things in your mind that I don't care about." Renner looked at Tusha. "You must help me, at least so I won't hurt her anymore."

"Do you have no awareness of what's happening to you?"

Renner rushed forward, grabbing Tusha's throat with his right hand and flipping him to the ground.

"Hehe, Renner." Tusha grabbed Renner's wrist. "Your grip is really strong. Honestly, I'm a bit proud."

"Stop babbling." Renner grabbed one of Tusha's fangs with his left hand. "Help me. Otherwise, you'll die here."

His left hand gradually exerted force upward. Tusha had seen him use this method to kill ogres in the execution yard: like pushing a stick against the roots of teeth, destroying the nearby bones.

"Okay okay okay. Let go first. Let me finish. I can't speak like this."

Renner released Tusha and wiped his left hand on the wall.

"This is really too much, I must say." Tusha stood up, moving his neck a bit. "If my poison didn't affect you... sometimes I wonder if Lawrence put so much effort into your body's resistance against poison just to target me."

He finished speaking and chuckled.

"What are you laughing at now?"

"To be honest, how does it feel to hold power?"

"I don't care."

"But you're clearly adapting to this power. Just now, what were you saying about not wanting to hurt that woman? ...Wait, wait, wait, my mistake. Don't come closer. I didn't say anything just now."

"I don't want to waste any more time."

"You won't live long, Renner. It's that simple."

Renner looked at Tusha.

"Why?"

"Because you left the Stromgarde, lost access to the medication you needed to inject regularly. Ordinary food nutrients aren't enough to sustain your body. You're not a natural being, unable to find a natural way of living for yourself. Of course, even if you stayed in the Stromgarde, I couldn't guarantee your lifespan, after all, you're an experiment. Half a year ago, Galin was ready to dispose of you. He promised to let you follow Jorgen back to MI7, but he kept the research data. I guess he never mentioned to Jorgen what you needed to survive."

"Why have neither you nor Lawrence ever told me?"

"Tell you? So you could despair and cause a massacre and then run away? We're not that foolish. But considering your current level of thinking, I'm surprised you haven't figured this out for yourself. Whether it's a Undertaker or a fearless knight, both MI7 and the Stromgarde want the same thing, which is control. Free thinking? Thoughts of sleeping with women? Sure, they'll give you that. But your life is in their hands. Quite understandable, isn't it?"

Renner touched his forehead and then stared at his fingertips. "It's unnatural," he said to me. "I can't find a natural way of living."

"I don't know what you want, Tusha. You're talking about their affairs. I only remember when we were in the Stromgarde, you said the first thing to do was to solve my hallucination problem."

"We're both prisoners, Renner. We're both doing things we don't want to do. But this hallucination problem is an exception because eliminating harmful hallucinations is probably the closest thing to my original goal."

"Then you must have made some progress. I just want you to help me with this favor."

"How long do you think you have left to live?"

"Okay, how much time do I have left?"

"Renner," Tusha coughed twice and continued, "to be honest, I hope you live as long as possible. Because right now, you're my only research material. If left alone, you can live for at least three or four more years, maybe even longer. On the other hand, I've made significant progress in eliminating hallucinations, and fortunately, it can be done with some herbs I can find, but doing so will burden you further. Without the mitigating potions from the Stromgarde, your lifespan will shorten quickly."

"Can you predict the time if I start treating the hallucinations immediately?"

"At most two months."

"Two months," Renner nodded.

"Listen, Renner. I want to leave you alone and walk out... I mean, escape. But I intend to give you a chance to choose."

"Explain."

"I guess when you first arrived in the Western Plague, you never thought things would turn out like this. Your mind was full of promotions, battles, making more money. Later, you suddenly had no choice. You embarked on a path you never imagined. Even if you weren't necessarily the one causing trouble, you still had to continue, or else what? Admit defeat? You didn't admit defeat, Renner, because now you want me to help you. If you still have memories, maybe you'll regret not leaving home at all. You, on the other hand, are somewhat lucky to have Jorgen backing you up. And this woman, who has been looking for you for years, even willing to give up her life. Seeing you in such good fortune, I think I should intervene and give you a chance to choose. Some people don't have that chance and end up becoming everyone's enemy, having to clean up every mess themselves. Would you rather live as a Undertaker for three or four years, or as a fearless knight for two months? It's your choice."

They were silent for a moment. A knock sounded on the door.

"Let me in," Crecyda said from outside the door, "I need to come in."

"See, women are troublesome. Especially at a time like this when we need to think carefully," Tusha said.

"This should be a decision we make together."

As soon as Renner opened the door, Crecyda rushed in and hugged him. Renner looked down at her. He had dissected hundreds of bodies on the execution yard, and no ugly wound could make him look away, but the scar on the right side of her face sent a sharp pain from his brain to his fingertips.

"I heard everything," she said. "I heard it all."

Tusha scratched his neck and turned away.

"I don't want you to die," she said, then raised her head to Tusha. "Tusha, you're not lying, are you? You like to deceive people."

"Of course not," Tusha didn't turn around, shaking his hand. "If I were really lying to you, I wouldn't say so much."

"Renner. Renner." She looked at him, hands touching his face. "What have they done to you? They all..."

"Don't talk about the past." Renner held her wrist, watching tears stream down her face. "And don't blame anyone. Just like Tusha said, now I have a chance to choose. The two of us..."

"No, forget about hallucinations. Tusha, you need to leave. He still has to live on. Live with me for many years."

"Crecyda, calm down. Look at what I've done to you. I... can't control myself. It will happen again. I don't want..."

"Just throw away all the weapons. Knives, anything else that can harm people, throw them away."

"That won't make a difference, Crecyda."

"No. I said no." She pushed his shoulders hard with her palm. "I waited for you at home for five years, then searched for you for two years. That's seven years, Renner. Where do you get the nerve to tell me that you'll be dead in two months? They've really turned you into someone else, Renner. The old you wouldn't be so heartless. I don't love you anymore. Not anymore. You bastard."

Renner cupped Crecyda's face, looking at the tears wetting the red scar. He knew his memory was far from fully recovered, but these months of life made him feel that it no longer mattered. The morning sunlight. Dinner. Rows of wooden combs waiting to be painted on the table. Occasionally taking her hunting. Her long hair, carefully protected. She often woke up from nightmares at night, never wanting to tell him what she dreamt of, and she would get angry if he asked. And before that, all he saw were dark corridors, entrails, iron chains, blood, spiders. The shimmering woman he had seen in the hallucinations in the cell meant nothing to him now, because the only person in front of him was Crecyda. The only Crecyda.

"Seven years. Yes, seven years," he said. "It's a long time. But you still have a future, Crecyda. I can't hurt you anymore. Not in any way. I'm sorry."

Renner looked into Crecyda's eyes, her nose, lips, hair, everything about her, including that scar. He had to remember everything in his eyes, because there wasn't much time left to look at her like this.