Chapter 397. Beginning of the Circus
The Clown had activated one of his earliest inventions—a vision relay array embedded within the eyes of a seemingly harmless toy clown.
From the safety of his own cabin, he could observe everything happening in the room across the narrow corridor of the ship.
Laughter and muffled moans seeped through the paper-thin wooden walls, but he didn’t need to rely on his ears. Through those glassy artificial eyes, he saw everything.
His younger brother and the young miss lay tangled together on the modest cot. The girl’s delicate fingers clutched at the sheets, her breath ragged as her body trembled beneath the touch of the man she had defied her family for.
The Clown’s brother, usually reserved and composed, now wore a look of pure affection and passion as he whispered into her ear, comforting and claiming her.
The Clown watched it all with an unsettling stillness. His pale face showed no emotion—expressionless, as though it were carved from wax. Yet in the depths of his dark, unblinking eyes, a strange glimmer flickered. It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t sorrow. It was something else.
Something twisted.
Something possessive.
"Whatever belongs to my brother," he whispered, voice like wind passing through hollow wood, "belongs to me too."
Beside him sat a small wooden box, carved with strange runes and lined with velvet. He opened it slowly, reverently. Inside were several vials filled with glowing, alchemical liquid—each shimmering with a different hue.
The aroma rising from them was pungent, sour, yet oddly enticing. He had purchased these from the shady alchemist Dr. Juggler.