Chapter 69 - 68: The crazy[GTG]
Fourteen days had crawled by since I’d made the dubious decision to trust Scarlet. To my surprise, things hadn’t gone completely south. She maintained a facade of docility and obedience, eerily reminiscent of Helen, but there was an underlying intensity in her gaze that hinted at a hair-trigger temper just waiting to be unleashed.
However, like with Helen, I found myself being drawn to her, just hope I don’t fall too deep like wih Helen.
That aside though, the arrangement still had an unbelievable great deal of perks. Whenever we encountered another candidate, Scarlet would erupt into a whirlwind of violence, reducing the unfortunate soul to a whimpering puddle before graciously bestowing the finishing blow upon me. It was an unexpected turn of events, especially on the first day when she’d dispatched a student with effortless brutality, then transferred the points directly to my account.
Apparently, teammates could share points. A useful loophole, indeed.
However, this continued for so long that I’d attempted to intervene. The points, I argued, were better served in her possession. Her response, as expected, was a dismissive wave of her hand. She claimed to have stockpiled enough points to maintain her ranking regardless. It was an unsettling boast, a chilling testament to the sheer number of lives she must have snuffed out to be so confident.
The logic of it all escaped me. We were leaving the academy after the exams, or so she claimed. So why rack up additional points if our days here were numbered? My suggestion to find a cozy nook with a steady food supply was met with a resolute refusal. Her priority, she asserted, was locating Lyra – another piece of the puzzle I couldn’t quite grasp. Apparently, a duo offered better protection than her alone. But that begged the question of just what exactly transpired between the three of us in my forgotten past? It was a question that gnawed at the edges of my mind.
But just as a semblance of normalcy, however unsettling, began to settle in, fate, as it often does, intervened. The last person I ever wanted to see materialized from the shadows: the pink-haired harpy.
"My little plaything," she purred, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness that masked a deadly undercurrent. "Fancy meeting you here."
We were scouring a dilapidated building for supplies when she materialized in front of me, a jarring splash of color in the dust-laden gloom.