Chapter 3: Hobbies, Card Games
Angus noticed that Eric wasn’t home, so her curiosity led her to wander around the house.
As she walked, a door to a basement she’d never noticed before caught her eye.
Driven by intense curiosity, she gently pushed open the mysterious door.
The moment it opened, a thick, pungent stench of blood hit her like a tidal wave.
Angus instinctively covered her mouth and nose with her hand.
Her brows furrowed, her stomach churning.
After adjusting to the smell, she looked closely and saw Eric standing in the dim, chilly corner of the basement, wielding a bloodstained bandage, a strange smile playing on his lips.
Eric’s eyes narrowed slightly, his mouth curling upward as he relentlessly whipped a person bound tightly to a pillar.
The figure was emaciated, a mere skeleton draped in skin, their tattered clothes revealing a body covered in horrific scars—new wounds layered over old, blood and pus mingling in a gruesome sight.
Their faint breaths seemed on the verge of stopping, their hollow, lifeless eyes filled with fear and despair, like a beast trapped in an endless abyss.
Their cracked lips moved weakly, as if begging for the nightmarish torment to end, but only faint, barely audible whimpers escaped.
Angus stood frozen, stunned by the scene, before tremblingly asking, “Eric, what are you doing?”
Without looking up, Eric replied coldly, “Mind your own business.”
Angus said anxiously, “You shouldn’t be torturing people like this.”
Eric shrugged it off.
“He’s a wanted criminal I caught. He’s killed countless innocents and committed heinous crimes. Now that I’ve got him, torturing him is doing society a favor.”
Angus took a step forward, questioning, “Why torture him like this? Why not just kill him?”
Eric paused his actions, turning to face her, his gaze icy.
“It’s my hobby. You wouldn’t understand.”
Angus’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Hobby? How can something so cruel be a hobby?”
Eric sneered.
“You don’t need to understand.”
Angus pressed urgently, “Eric, this is wrong. You’ll get into trouble.”
Eric replied nonchalantly, “I don’t care. No one can control me.”
Angus raised her voice.
“But this behavior is too horrifying. You can’t keep doing this.”
Eric mocked, “You think you can stop me?”
Angus looked at him firmly.
“I’ll find a way to make you stop.”
Eric laughed loudly.
“You? Don’t kid yourself.”
Then, growing impatient, Eric shooed Angus away.
Back in her room, Angus lay on the bed, her thoughts surging like a tidal wave.
Fear and worry consumed her as she recalled Eric’s twisted, terrifying hobby, a shiver running through her.
No wonder he’d tortured her so brutally in her past life—those agonizing memories tore open a wound in her heart.
If her plan to escape was ever discovered and she fell into Eric’s hands again, the consequences were unimaginable.
She might be tortured to death.
No, for her own safety, to avoid repeating past mistakes, she had to change Eric.
It was an incredibly difficult task, but she had no choice.
She would gradually try to soften him, to make him abandon this cruel hobby and rediscover the kindness and warmth in his humanity.
No matter how arduous or frustrating the process, she couldn’t give up. She had to persist until Eric truly changed.
Summoning her courage, Angus sought Eric out again to talk.
“Eric, stop torturing people. We can try something new,” she said sincerely.
Eric frowned, looking annoyed.
“Don’t bother me.”
Angus didn’t give up.
“I’ll show you some new hobbies. You might like them.”
Eric scoffed.
“Let’s see what tricks you can pull.”
Angus led Eric to her room, where a faint, girlish fragrance lingered.
She pulled a brand-new deck of cards from a drawer, their edges smooth and neat.
“This is a card game young people love. It’s like strategizing for battle, really fun,” she said.
Eric frowned, his expression cold and disdainful.
“What’s the point of this?”
His voice was icy and devoid of warmth, as if he despised everything around him.
But Angus wasn’t discouraged by his attitude.
She patiently explained the rules, her voice low and gentle.
“Look, each card has its unique role, like commanding soldiers on a battlefield.”
Her eyes sparkled with hope, trying to ignite some enthusiasm in Eric.
They began their first game.
To maintain her pretense of amnesia, Angus deliberately made mistakes, letting Eric win easily.
After winning, Eric’s lips curled into a slight, scornful smile.
“Pointless. Too easy. Bother me again, and I’ll deal with you too,” he said, his words laced with threat.
Though fear gripped her heart, Angus kept her composure.
Determined to change him, she steeled herself and said, “The winner gets to break one of the loser’s fingers.”
Her voice trembled slightly, but her gaze was resolute.
Eric agreed without hesitation, snapping one of Angus’s fingers with force.
A crisp crack echoed in the room.
Angus cried out in pain, sweat beading on her forehead, her face paling.
Eric asked excitedly, “Keep going?”
Angus nodded.
“Continue.”
In the next game, Angus revealed a bit of her skill, and after a fierce match, she won.
Eric offered his finger without pause, but Angus hesitated before saying, “Instead of breaking it, how about you don’t do that for a day?”
Eric was silent for a moment before saying, “Fine.”
Angus couldn’t believe her ears.
“Really?”
Eric replied impatiently, “I keep my word.”
They played six more rounds, with Angus intentionally losing three to keep Eric engaged.
During the games, she closely observed his expressions, searching for any hint of softness in his heart.
As it grew late, Angus said, “That’s enough for today. I’m going to bed.”
Her steps were unsteady, the pain from her injured finger throbbing intensely.
Eric watched her retreating figure and called out, “Wait.”
Angus turned, puzzled.
Eric stepped forward, chanting a magic spell.
A soft glow enveloped Angus’s injured finger, and under the magic’s effect, the painful, twisted digit gradually healed.
That night, Angus lay in bed, the pain in her finger keeping her awake.
Staring at the ceiling, she reflected on the day.
Though her efforts had shown some progress, she knew changing Eric was a long road ahead.
Her emotions were complex—a mix of worry for the future and a glimmer of hope.
She hoped she could make Eric change, even just a little, and was willing to pour all her effort into it.