Chapter 119: What are you doing in my house?
Clara felt like crying.
She hadn’t exactly prepared a backup plan for getting trapped inside a house with a drunken man and a group of debt collectors.
Please... you blockhead. For once in your miserable life, do something smart. Don’t open the door.
Just don’t open the door.
She silently prayed. Unfortunately... her prayers went unanswered.
"Who the hell is disturbing my peace at this hour?" Thomas grumbled as he struggled to his feet.
Clara’s eyes widened.
What is this idiot doing? Is he trying to get himself killed?
She carefully peeked from behind the sofa as Thomas staggered toward the entrance and unlocked the door.
"This isn’t going to end well," she muttered under her breath. Looking around, she quickly grabbed a torn bedsheet and covered herself just in case things got heated, but this sheet will keep her hidden.
She knew how debt collectors operated.
If things got out of hand, she had to be ready to escape before anyone discovered she was hiding inside.
The moment the door swung open, an angry voice echoed through the house.
"Thomas!" a burly man barked. "You’ve got some nerve hiding from us after borrowing our money."
He cracked his knuckles loudly.
"I think it’s time someone taught you a lesson."
The tattooed man standing beside him sneered.
"He never pays unless we beat the living daylights out of him."
Hidden behind the sofa, Clara watched everything unfold.
She had no idea Thomas had been still living like this.
Gambling. Debt. Loan sharks showing up at his doorstep.
He truly hadn’t changed at all. A wave of disgust washed over her.
"You deserve whatever’s coming," she whispered.
Then, after a brief pause, she added, "...Just don’t die. You still have plenty of crimes left to answer for."
The burly man stepped forward and reached for Thomas’s collar. Before he could grab him—
Thud!
A thick bundle of cash smacked him squarely in the face before falling into his hands.
The room fell silent.
Thomas pointed lazily toward the door.
"You wanted your money, didn’t you?" he slurred. "There it is. Now get lost."
His voice suddenly turned cold.
"And don’t come looking for me again. I’m done dealing with people like you."
The two men exchanged confused looks.
The burly man stared at the cash before looking back at Thomas in disbelief.
"W-Where the hell did you get this much money?"
He knew Thomas better than anyone.
The two had once called themselves friends.
He had lent Thomas money countless times to feed his gambling addiction, only to watch him lose every single cent.
Eventually, those friendly loans had turned into unpaid debts. That was why they had been hunting him down.
Yet tonight... Thomas had casually thrown a bundle of cash at his face. It didn’t make any sense.
Thomas puffed out his chest proudly despite swaying on his feet.
"You got your money. So leave."
The two men looked at him for another moment before exchanging a silent glance.
Without another word, they pocketed the cash and walked away.
The front door closed and Thomas let out a smug laugh.
"Idiots..." He leaned against the wall with a crooked grin.
"They thought they could keep beating me every time I couldn’t pay. Hah!" he scoffed. "They have no idea how much money I have now."
Hidden in the living room, Clara frowned deeply.
Money...
That was the second time Thomas had bragged about it.
Something wasn’t right.
A man who had sold nearly everything in his house...
A man who survived on gambling and alcohol...
A man drowning in debt? How had he suddenly come up with enough money to repay his creditors so confidently?
The more Clara thought about it...the more convinced she became that Thomas was hiding something far bigger than gambling debts.
Thomas stumbled back into the living room, grabbed the half-empty bottle from the table, and emptied the rest in one long gulp.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I’m... not done yet," he mumbled.
Still swaying from side to side, he staggered toward the kitchen to grab another bottle from the cabinet.
Clara’s eyes lit up.
This is my chance.
The moment Thomas disappeared into the kitchen, she quietly crawled out from behind the sofa and tiptoed toward the open window.
Just a few more steps... freedom is right there.
Clara was already celebrating her victory when...
"Who’s there?"
Thomas’s voice rang through the house. "What are you doing in my house?"
Clara froze. She slowly closed her eyes in defeat.
Seriously? This man is supposed to be drunk!
Meanwhile, Thomas rubbed his blurry eyes.
The alcohol had clouded his vision, but he was certain he had just seen something moving under a white bedsheet.
At first, he assumed it was a stray cat that had wandered into the house.
His face twisted with annoyance.
"Just wait, you filthy cat!" he shouted, grabbing the empty bottle from the table. "I’m throwing you out myself!"
He took two determined steps forward. Before he could charge... the "cat" slowly stood up.
"????"
Thomas froze. His face drained of all color.
Great. Since he already thinks I’m a cat... I might as well commit to the role. Clara sighed.
She folded her arms beneath the bedsheet and lowered her voice dramatically.
"Hit me, and I’ll bite you. And trust me... even the doctors won’t be able to save you." She pointed a finger at him.
Thomas’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The alcohol was doing absolutely nothing to help his imagination.
"T-The cat..." he stammered. "Why... why is it talking?"
Clara almost burst into laughter.
He really thinks I’m a cat. Perfect.
"Yes," she replied in a spooky voice.
"I am the talking cat. And if you come any closer, I’ll bite you, Thomas."
The moment his name left the "cat’s" mouth... Thomas’s soul practically left his body.
"I-It knows my name..." His entire body trembled.
"I’ve offended a ghost cat..." His breathing became uneven. Before his brain could process another terrifying thought, his eyes rolled back.
Thud!
Thomas collapsed flat on the floor.
"..."
Silence filled the room as Clara blinked once.
Then twice. Slowly lowering the bedsheet, she stared at Thomas’s motionless body.
"...No way."
She hurried over and crouched beside him. "Oh, come on..."
She quickly checked his pulse. A few seconds later, she let out a long sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness. He’s only unconscious."
She glanced at his pale face and couldn’t resist muttering,
"You seriously fainted because a cat talked to you?"
Clara then clicked her tongue. "What a disappointment."
Not wasting another second, Clara hurried back to the window.
With one smooth movement, she climbed out and landed safely outside.
The instant her feet touched the ground, she broke into a run.
"I have to get back before anyone realizes I’m missing."
As she disappeared into the night, Thomas remained sprawled across the living room floor...
Completely unconscious. Still convinced... he had just met a talking ghost cat.
***
Clara had no idea how fast she was running. Right now, she had only one goal.
Get back to the Pearl Mansion before anyone noticed she had sneaked out.
Unfortunately... luck wasn’t on her side as the very next moment her foot landed on a loose stone and...
"Ouch!" She lost her balance and tumbled straight into a roadside bush.
Rustle!
"Seriously?" Clara groaned as she pushed a few branches away from her face. "This is the last thing I needed tonight."
Grumbling under her breath, she slowly climbed out of the bush.
Leaves clung to her hair. There was also dirt all over her pajamas.
She looked as though she had just wrestled with Mother Nature—and lost.
While brushing the mud off her clothes, her eyes accidentally landed on two figures standing a short distance away.
The couple was completely absorbed in each other... locked in a passionate kiss.
Clara’s eyes widened.
"Holy shit!"
She immediately covered her eyes with both hands.
"I’m so sorry! I’m invading your privacy!"
Embarrassed, she quickly turned around.
"I didn’t see anything... absolutely nothing."
She took two hurried steps away. Then...stopped.
A strange feeling crept into her mind. "...Wait a second."
Those silhouettes... why did they look so familiar?
Curiosity got the better of her. Very, very slowly... she turned her head back for one more look.
The moment she saw their faces clearly... her jaw nearly hit the ground.
Her eyes became as round as saucers, and with a trembling finger, she pointed at them.
"Holy shit!! You two are together?!"
[Present]
For a few seconds, Clara stood rooted to the spot, her brain struggling to process what she had just witnessed.
Mark... and Hannah... kissing?
She blinked once. Then twice just to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.
Nope. They were still standing there.
Then she noticed something even funnier.
The moment Mark saw her, panic flashed across his face.
Without thinking, he took one quick step back and hid behind Hannah as though she were his personal bodyguard.
Clara’s trance instantly shattered. The corners of her lips slowly curled into a mischievous grin.
"Oh... so you two are really together."
"..."