08.

Erable felt like she was about to lose it from the roundabout conversation.

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that.”

“As if it’s not.”

Camellia gently refilled Erable’s empty beer glass, trying to calm her down.

“Why would a guy ask a girl he’s not interested in to have dinner and drinks? Sweetie, you’re 25. Are you going to keep acting like a child?”

“It’s really not like that….”

“Please, just try it once. If you don’t like it afterward, then reject him.”

“…What if I can’t?”

“Can’t what? Do ‘that’? Then just go straight for the neck and—”

“No! I mean, what if I can’t reject him?”

Camellia looked puzzled.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to reject him?”

Because I’ll probably die if I do.

Erable couldn’t bring herself to explain that the person they were talking about was ‘Dezeb Avganis’. Without that crucial piece of information, there was no way to explain the full gravity of the situation. ‘That man’, the man who asked her to have dinner and drinks—that man!

This was clearly a murder warning.

“He—he really asked me to have dinner and drinks…! He asked me to have dinner and drinks with him! How does that look to you?!”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“How does this look?!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

Camellia, who had been on the verge of losing her temper, took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you really hate it, just shoot him. You’re a soldier, aren’t you? You’ve got a gun.”

“……”

That escalated too quickly! Pointing a gun at him? This was a suicide mission. Even if she tried, she’d probably fail to even die properly.

Sigh.

Erable let out a deep sigh, slamming her head onto the bar table.

“Is that really something a medic should be saying? Where’s your professionalism?”

“What professionalism? Shoot him and bring him to me. I’ll patch him up.”

Erable, staring blankly at nothing in particular, suddenly blurted out a decisive fact.

“By the way, he’s gay.”

“What?”

Camellia frowned.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“How would you know?”

“…Are we really starting this again?”

“Well, it’s a very private matter. How do you know for sure?”

Camellia seemed unwilling to let go of the slim possibility that Dezeb wasn’t gay.

“I’ve seen it.”

‘In the original novel.’

Of course, there was no explicit mention that he wasn’t into women, but since it wasn’t mentioned, Erable figured that meant it wasn’t a thing.

“Seen it? What did you see? Did you catch him going into a gay bar or something?”

“Something like that.”

“…Seriously?”

Camellia furrowed her brow in frustration.

“So, you’re sitting here digging yourself into a hole over some useless gay guy? Are you bored?”

“I’m not bored, okay.”

Erable’s dead-serious reply earned her a click of the tongue from Camellia.

“Then wash your feet and go to bed. Stop digging holes. Wait, seriously, if he’s gay, why’s he asking you out for drinks and dinner? A gay guy?”

“That’s what I don’t get either!” Erable shouted, exasperated.

Camellia fell silent for a moment, furrowing her brow in deep thought.

“Is he, like, trying to borrow money from you, or—oh, crap!”

Before she could finish, Erable slammed her head back onto the bar table with a thud.

“Why do you keep banging your head?!”

“…Lieutenant, if I die, please take my Blu-ray collection. It’s expensive.”

“What?”

“Also, make sure to tell my family about the life insurance I signed up for. Apparently, if you don’t file a claim, the companies just let it slide.”

“What the hell, why are you suddenly giving me your will?”

Camellia was baffled.

“Please bury the James collection with me. And the Lucas and Alec collections too.”

“Why? Are you trying to build a harem in the afterlife?”

“…It’s been my dream.”

Erable wasn’t joking, but Camellia burst out laughing.

“Sweetie, forget about all these useless gay celebrities and just get into a proper relationship.”

“Your suggestions are getting dangerously risky….”

“People who can’t, but want to, are of no use to you,” Camellia advised, suddenly quite seriously.

“You know the latest noise level readings show dangerous levels, right? Even aside from that, those tranquilizers are no good for you. They’re emergency meds.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know anything. Those are the kinds of meds people take when they’re half-dead. Either find someone compatible, or at least get regular check-ups at the clinic. Otherwise, you’ll really end up dying like this.”

“Everyone does it when the time comes…”

“Shut up. What’s the big deal that you’re making such a fuss about it? You know, once you try it, it’s nothing. The world doesn’t turn upside down or fall apart.”

“Oh, by the way, my will is on the top shelf of our freezer.”

Erable responded, completely ignoring the doctor’s advice.

Camellia asked, bewildered.

“Why is it in the freezer?”

“To keep it fresh.”

In the end, Camellia stopped her nagging and burst out laughing.

“Alright, so who is it? The guy who made you confirm your will. Is he a mafia boss? A serial killer?”

Worse than that.

Definitely… much worse.

＊ ＊ ＊

“Dezeb, the retrieval is complete.”

Dezeb took a slow breath.

The stench of blood clung to his nostrils.

Corpses were piled at their feet.

Dezeb roughly stubbed out the cigarette near its filter and glanced at a survivor coughing up blood-streaked spit.

“One of them’s still alive, huh?”

The survivor met his gaze and spat, cursing Dezeb with venomous words.

“Now, now, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

Dezeb smirked, frowning at the long gash across his neck. Dark red blood oozed from the split skin, staining his shirt collar.

“It’s torn again.”

“The progression is faster this time.”

Taking the fresh shirt handed to him by Ol, Dezeb scratched at the widening wound.

From the wound, something black and wriggling, like snakes, began to crawl out.

The barely-breathing survivor retched at the sight.

Dezeb glanced at him again.

“I said you’d hurt my feelings.”

In an instant, hundreds, no, thousands of tendrils, both snake-like and resembling annelid tentacles, erupted from all directions, swarming the man.

The man thrashed wildly as a cacophony of screams and a hissing sound, like insects buzzing, mixed together.

The black mass that had engulfed his body vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

“Ugh—ugh…”

Seeing the man still alive, though with not a single patch of unscathed skin left, Dezeb asked casually.

“Can we use him as a module?”

“There aren’t enough auxiliary slots, so the efficiency will be low.”

“Is that so? The Empire’s really lacking in talent, huh.”

Dezeb grumbled as the survivor was fully consumed.

But his biggest grievance was this:

“…….”

A warmth gathered in his lower abdomen. It could have been from the accumulated noise, but… he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

Either way, a human was needed.

Again.

Dezeb chuckled at the realization as he lit a fresh cigarette.

“Countdown: one day.”

“…Pardon?”

Ol, momentarily confused, racked his brain.

“Oh, you mean Vermilion?”

Dezeb nodded in confirmation.

Ol couldn’t understand why their master was so interested in that lieutenant.

Whenever Vermilion saw Dezeb, she trembled in fear, just like all the other humans who had died at his hands. On top of that, her physical level was low, and her appearance wasn’t anything special.

159.9 cm tall, with short, curly brown hair, eyes of a similar color, and pale skin. Her perpetually smiling face was somewhat memorable, but Erable Vermilion was an unremarkable woman.

A month. A month and a half.

That was the time bet placed on her.

If Lieutenant Vermilion fell for Dezeb’s hollow facade, the time would be much shorter.

If, by chance, she turned out to be compatible, the outcome would be even worse. She wouldn’t be able to die.

In the meantime, Birgo and Aries had bet on a month and a month and a half because they held the lieutenant in unexpectedly high regard.

Had Dezeb not been delaying their relationship, showing some degree of consideration for her, they wouldn’t have placed such high bets.

“What about the prince?”

“Leave him.”

“Kancher will start complaining. Shouldn’t you just take care of it?”

“Do you want to be the one to handle his containment?”

“I’ll prepare the syringe for the blood draw. It’d be great if it shows compatibility.”

Ol smoothly changed the subject.

Having a spare was always a good thing for Dezeb. It meant extending the grace period, even by a little.

＊ ＊ ＊

Erable was a bit happy today.

She had left work on time for once, watched a movie she had been putting off, and ‘Romantic 4′ was, as expected, enjoyable. Well, James’ face was the most enjoyable part.

With the commander’s business trip lasting longer than expected, Erable had more or less regained her peace of mind.

Maybe when he said, “I’ll see you when I’m back,” it was just a polite farewell. Sure, he’d never said anything like that before, but…

No, he had probably just stopped by. The shuttle landing pad was near the storage area.

Yeah. It made sense that he would have a few words with an underling working hard along the way.

Erable chose to cling to that hopeful conclusion, conveniently ignoring the fact that Dezeb had been interrupted by a call during that encounter.

After clocking out today, she treated herself to a meal of caramel popcorn and soda at the small two-screen theater, watched the long-awaited ‘Romantic 4’, and even bought a hot dog on her way home.

Looking back, she considered it quite a fulfilling day.

It was late, the streets were dark, and because of that, she didn’t immediately notice the commander standing outside the officer’s quarters.

By the time her instinct to flee kicked in, it was already too late.