Chapter 146: Slow Toture
Inside the dark, quiet room, the only thing the figure did was stare at the fat man seated before him. The man’s hands were free, yet he trembled like fried meat.
Zethan sat calmly, but his eyes—devoid of emotion—held something far worse than emptiness. It was the kind of gaze that said, look and die. That was how terrifying it was. Yet now, he simply sat there, motionless. The only part of his body that moved was his hand as he occasionally smoked a cigarette.
Days had passed.
It was as if he didn’t want to accept the death of his wife.
Now, if you asked Lucas, he’d say something was definitely wrong. Zethan’s words had become a luxury—because even before, he rarely spoke, but now, once in a blue moon... sometimes, he didn’t at all.
"Why are you just sitting there? Make yourself at home. It’s not like I bite... or do I?"
The moment those words left Zethan’s lips, the fat man’s body trembled on the chair. It was like even his system had forgotten how to function. He wasn’t breathing—he had forgotten to breathe.
To his surprise, a low chuckle escaped Zethan’s lips once more.
"She can’t be..." Zethan muttered. "They say if she’s alive, my memories will return. But they haven’t. They haven’t—so she’s still alive."
He chuckled again, shaking his head. Staring at the cigarette in his hand, he suddenly pressed the burning tip between his fingers before tossing it aside. His expression darkened as he turned to face the man, whose body now shook uncontrollably.
"Am I right?" he asked slowly.