The Boss Wants to Die
Chapter 10
The Boss Wants to Die
“Y-you don’t honestly expect a cute, delicate bat like me to haul that ridiculously huge priest…?”
“Yep. Drag him along.”
“Uuuugh.”
“Stop acting cute and hurry up.”
Making a tearful face, Heart clamped its teeth onto Akt’s collar and flapped its wings with all its might.
A glamorous female player, a rare bat familiar, and a priest as massive as a berserker.
Even without the title of Evil God, it was an eye-catching party lineup.
Unaware that someone was watching, I leisurely left the hunting grounds.
Rustle—.
Late at night.
Waking from his faint, Akt started to push himself up before freezing in place.
He had spotted Rowoon and her bat familiar sprawled out fast asleep beside him.
Akt’s pitch-black eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Careless as ever, Rowoon-ah.”
It seemed she had dragged his unconscious self all the way to the room, only to get lazy and collapse into deep sleep right where she fell.
Tying his hair back into a single tail with a black elastic band lying around on the inn’s shelf, he gathered Rowoon into his arms.
His forearm, as thick as her calf, slipped behind the hollows of her knees.
Akt enveloped her against his muscular frame and stood up without the slightest effort.
She lifted easily, shockingly light for an Evil God.
“Mmh…”
She furrowed her brow, shifting restlessly within his broad embrace.
Her robe fell open slightly, spilling out a luscious cascade of wavy black hair.
Catching the rich scent of roses, Akt’s brow subtly knitted.
With hooded eyes, he stared down at Rowoon’s crimson lips as if he might devour them.
“You make things difficult for me every single time.”
Wrinkling the bridge of his nose, Akt carefully tucked her robe closed.
Then he laid her on the bed and pulled the blanket all the way up to her chin.
Grabbing the bat by its wing, he tossed it beside her as well.
Heart’s body was so unnecessarily round that, left unattended, it tended to roll all over the place.
Creak.
As Akt sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress groaned under the sheer weight of his muscular frame.
He silently looked down at Rowoon.
Perhaps because it was her first time in such a low-level environment, she had lowered her guard and fallen dead asleep.
“If only you would stay asleep like this forever.”
Akt uttered the chilling words casually.
He gathered a lock of Rowoon’s wavy hair in his hand.
Silk-smooth, the hair gleamed like the synthetic sheen of a doll’s nylon locks.
Tracing his thumbnail down the pitch-black strands—the complete opposite of his own hair—his eyes narrowed to slits.
His hand moved to her eyelashes, fanned out against her cheeks.
The face that grew venomous whenever she looked at him was now as pure and gentle as an infant’s.
Whenever the red eyes hidden beneath those lids stared straight at him, Akt would sometimes feel an impulse too overwhelming to control.
It was an impulse that now felt almost like child’s play.
Accustomed to vulgar greed, he effortlessly suppressed the ferocious desires within him as if handling a feather, then murmured softly:
“Rowoon-ah.”
His long, pale fingers gently stroked the nape of her neck.
“I’m sorry for putting a leash on you. You won’t believe me, but I really didn’t want to do this either.”
“……”
“But I had no choice. To keep up with you, I had to stop caring about the means.”
A bitter smile touched his lips.
“I acted far too naively, not knowing it would become poison.”
So from now on, I won’t.
Akt muttered under his breath.
“Couldn’t you have just been a little good to me, hm?”
Why did you do it?
Why…?
When you knew I could never give you up.
Akt’s dark eyes, brimful of affection, twisted and degenerated into a sinister gleam.
But soon, he wiped away the emotion, closing his eyes tightly before opening them again.
Masked once more, his gaze had turned hollow and dry.
Slowly, Akt started to rise, only to clutch his head.
“Ugh.”
It was the headache that flared intermittently.
Massaging his temple in annoyance, Akt lifted his haggard gaze.
“Status Window.”
He confirmed the class clearly displayed in the class column—’Priest of the Beginning’—and closed the window.
Everything was going smoothly.
For now.
Out of habit, he reached for the whiskey left on the bedside shelf.
Only then did he realize there wasn’t a single drop left.
“Haa…”
Resigned, he rinsed his dull mouth with cold water and headed down to the inn’s lower floor.
His throat felt rough and dry.
It felt as though nothing would soothe it unless he poured burning liquor down his throat.
[Akt Hevgenia’s Divine Power has decreased by 1.]
The moment he drew away from Rowoon, the system window popped up.
He dismissed the window as if swatting away an annoying fly and resumed walking.
“Stop nagging. It’s not like I’m going to drink all day.”
Akt chided languidly with a sigh.
“Not even a single glass of whiskey?”
[Akt Hevgenia’s Divine Power has decreased by 1.]
“First you tell me to reform the worshippers of the Evil God, and now you won’t even let me drink.”
[Akt Hevgenia’s Divine Power has decreased by 1.]
Akt rubbed his brow, irritation creeping into his eyes.
“Look at you, getting full of yourself.”
[Akt Hevgenia’s HP has decreased by 1.]
He shook his head in disbelief.
HP and Divine Power would return to normal once he went back to Rowoon’s side, so there was no need to worry.
It was purely a matter of mood.
“Do you want me to lose my mind by Rowoon’s side? Alcohol is a relaxant. It’s better for her if I drink.”
[Akt Hevgenia’s MP has decreased by 1.]
“…Are you saying I’m already out of my mind?”
MP was Mana Points, the gauge depleted whenever healing skills or magic were cast.
It could be restored by drinking mana potions or getting adequate sleep.
Since high Intelligence stats expanded the maximum MP pool, it was deeply tied to mental fortitude.
“You’ve really developed a taste for teasing me, haven’t you?”
Deciding to ignore it entirely, Akt headed down the stairs.
[A Sudden Event Has Occurred!
A recurring nuisance guest is causing a ruckus, knocking over a flowerpot on the second floor!]
Akt deftly dodged the falling pot.
The sharp, vicious crash of shattering ceramic echoed.
[Hearing the commotion, the innkeeper is approaching the scene to investigate!]
[Would you like to make an emergency escape to your party member (Evil God Hellroad)?
Time limit: 5 seconds.]
“Haa…”
Akt rubbed his weary face with both hands.
The numbers on the system window flashed frantically, exerting silent pressure.
Akt ultimately dismissed the window and faced the innkeeper.
“Hey, what’s going on here?”
“The flowerpot suddenly fell.”
The innkeeper scanned Akt from head to toe with suspicious eyes.
“You sure you didn’t do it?”
“I was just heading upstairs.”
Akt lied casually.
“I don’t have two bodies. How could I knock over a pot while walking up?”
“Where are you headed?”
“To my room. My party member is in there.”
“Well, sorry for suspecting you! I’ll clean it right up, so head on up!”
Akt paused on his way up and turned around to ask.
“Could you bring up a bottle of whiskey?”
“You think this is some high-end inn? Go down and drink it yourself.”
“I’ll pay double.”
Tempted by the unexpectedly lucrative offer, the innkeeper’s eyebrows shot up.
“Well then, don’t go up just yet, wait right here. I’ll fetch it in a flash. Any particular whiskey you want?”
“Sticky Tears of the Mother Slime will do. I heard it’s a local specialty.”
“It is, but it’s mighty strong, you know?”
“I don’t mind.”
Without further protest, the innkeeper brought up the whiskey from the cellar.
It was as expensive as it was potent.
“Just don’t go puking on the bed.”
Having finally secured a bottle of liquor, Akt returned to the room with it in hand.
I’ll just have to drink beside Rowoon. It’s better than getting kicked out of the inn.
Recalling the shattered pot, Akt thought while rubbing the deep furrow between his brows.
When he returned to the room, Rowoon had woken up and was retying Heart’s disheveled ribbon.
Rising casually from Akt’s bed, she greeted him.
“Where’d you go?”
Rowoon’s rose-red eyes rolled over to inspect the whiskey in Akt’s hand.
“You can drink the moment you wake up?”
“Why were you sleeping in my room?”
Akt asked as he poured the viscous green liquor into a crystal glass.
“Why? It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“……”
“Does it make you uncomfortable?”
He silently downed the drink.
“What’s the proof on that? Looks strong.”
“Haven’t checked.”
He savored the sweet taste lingering in his mouth before tossing back another glass.
The sharp ache throbbing in his head gradually melted away.
“If you’re going to drink, you should’ve done it downstairs.”
“There were circumstances.”
“A priest drinking like that…”
Staring at him with a hint of concern, Rowoon soon flashed her canines in a mischievous grin.
“Why not just switch classes to Corrupted Priest altogether?”
“I’d love to. Being too competent is a curse.”
Rowoon snorted derisively.
“You already look like a corrupted priest, so don’t worry about being too competent.”
“It’s no fun if this is all it takes to be a corrupted priest.”
Akt drained his whiskey, lowering his eyes languidly.
“If you want to see something more corrupt, I can show you as much as you like.”
“……”
“Do you want to? It’ll be fun.”
