Harvey, I Really Like You

"You've got the wrong person." The girl chuckled. "Lisi? What a nice name. Is she as cute a pretty girl as me?" "No, you aren't Lisi." Igola shook his head as well. Standing before him was a girl clad in a woolen coat and snow boots. Her features bore a resemblance to Lisi, looking like a slightly older version of her, but her hair was a rare and beautiful pinkish-purple. Only now did Igola fully recover his senses. "That monster—" The pinkish-purple-haired girl pointed upward. The Swindler raised his head and saw a shower of blood pouring from the sky. Rank, foul blood rained down alongside mangled chunks of flesh, yet their Sanctuary shielded them, keeping them undefiled by the bloody deluge. Only then did Igola notice an orc in a black jacket standing beside them. His fur was black and white, and he possessed a tail ringed with black and white stripes, exhibiting subtle feline atavistic traits. Clearly, the nine-headed Fishcleaver Dragon that had been turned into a rain of blood was the masterpiece of a single strike from this orc sorcerer. Yet the strength of that nine-headed Fishcleaver Dragon far surpassed the legendary rank—a beast that only someone like Yaxiu should have been able to defeat. Which meant... The Swindler's expression abruptly shifted. The pinkish-purple-haired girl noticed instantly. "Eh? You seem to know Amilo. Amilo, do you know him?" The orc named Amilo glanced at Igola and nodded. "I know who he is." "I know who you are as well, Your Excellency 'Barbarian King' Amilo Kasri." Igola flapped his void wings, struggling to take flight. Opening his newly healed right eye, he asked slowly, "Aren't you supposed to be in the Yisu Imperial Palace, serving as a power battery for the Gospel god?" Amilo Kasri, a legendary sorcerer of the Kasri orc clan, was also one of several legendary figures permanently stationed in the Yisu Imperial Palace! Back during the operation when Igola had followed Annan into the palace, he had seen several legendary sorcerers acting as batteries for the god in the basement where the Gospel god's true body resided. Among them had been this very black-and-white orc, 'Barbarian King' Amilo! "I'm here for the same reason you're here," Amilo said to the pinkish-purple-haired girl. "He is Igola Bogin. You could say he swept first through tenth place on the Weaving Ceremony's Scheme Board." "Woah!" The girl's eyes sparkled as she looked at Igola. "You're amazing! And you're so handsome and clever, too! Why don't you become my follower instead? I don't want Amilo anymore—he's way too ugly!" Amilo shrugged, seemingly resigned. Igola didn't reply. He watched the two of them with tense vigilance, flapping his void wings to back away slowly, just like a treated stray cat looking to bolt. Neither of them stopped him. But just as the Swindler was about to slip into the white fog, the pinkish-purple-haired girl called out, "Don't you want to come with us and break the angel's wings?" "Why should I travel with you?" Igola countered. "Because you can't win on your own, obviously! You got chased by a little fish until you went blind in one eye," the girl said, playfully scraping her index finger against her cheek. "Shame, shame!" "Then why do you want to travel with a stranger like me?" "You don't even know that, yet you barged in here?" The girl chuckled. "Any of the angel's wings is extremely difficult to deal with—nothing one or two people can handle. Even if we have to fight over them later, everyone has to join forces first to break the angel's wings. So the more people we have, the better. "If we don't have enough people and fail to break the wings, they'll just end up getting eaten by the Divine Lord of Stars. "Come along with us. You got separated from your teammates, right? The deeper in you go, the higher the chance you'll run into them." The girl tilted her head. "Assuming they haven't left, that is. "So, are you coming with us, or leaving?" Would the others press forward, or leave? With just a moment's thought, Igola arrived at his answer: If Yaxiu wasn't dead, he would definitely keep moving forward to dispel the white fog and save them; if Harvey wasn't dead, he would surely realize Yaxiu's choice and press forward as well. The Swindler's expression darkened and flickered. "How do I know you won't turn on me?" The girl didn't bother answering. She made a cute grimace at Igola, turned around, and walked off with Amilo. Igola had intended to probe further—whether she insulted him or answered, he could have gleaned a great deal of information. He hadn't expected the girl to see right through his intentions in a single glance. Left with no choice, Igola obediently followed, asking, "Who are you, anyway? Why are you traveling with Amilo?" "Since you're pestering me so shamelessly, I suppose I can begrudgingly tell you!" The girl spun around and flashed a V-sign. "I am loved by all and adored by flowers, the center of every crowd, a natural-born leader, as sweet as melted caramel, a pretty girl demon possessing both beauty and wisdom—Yinzhi!" * * * "Good evening." Harvey, who was treating the injury to his eardrums, turned his head and saw a colossal silhouette emerging from the white fog. As the figure drew nearer, he discovered it was a tall woman carrying a coffin. Nearly two meters tall with long green hair, she wore a backless black vest, long sleeves covered in bizarre patterns over both arms, and loose white straight-leg trousers below. A blindfold was tied across her eyes, and her figure was slender yet radiated a healthy athletic beauty. Unlike Harvey, she carried her coffin horizontally across her back. Furthermore, she wasn't alone; sitting on her shoulder was a little boy with short black hair, who appeared to be only six or seven years old. "Good evening," Harvey replied. "Do you fight carrying your family on your back too?" "Indeed." She stroked the coffin. "Inside rests a very important member of my family." "Just one?" "Just one." "Then you go through your family rather quickly." At that moment, the little boy spoke up. "Aren't you afraid of us?" Unlike the two adults, this little boy looked like nothing that belonged in such a place. He wore neat overalls over a white shirt, his skin a healthy milky-white, his frame dainty and delicate. His irises were a gold that shimmered with a faint red glow, making it hard to look away. On his feet were short athletic boots that he swung lightly back and forth as he spoke, his fair calves brighter than any color in this realm. He shouldn't have been here. He belonged at banquets, in classrooms, in libraries, surrounded by beautiful things. Even Harvey, master of human anatomy that he was, dared not judge the child's gender. Though the boy possessed a masculine appearance, he also carried a feminine gentleness. He was simply... simply... ...a perfect corpse. *Thump!* Harvey struck his own chest hard, feeling a long-lost surge of fear. He had believed himself fearless—he didn't fear death, nor did he fear the death of his friends. He viewed death as returning home; he had nothing left to lose. Yet he knew he was mistaken. There was still something he could not afford to lose—his principles, the creed he had upheld his entire life. How could he contemplate turning a living person into a corpse? That was a violation of a necromancer's commandments! "Hey." The little boy suddenly appeared right before Harvey, gazing at the dark-skinned man with curly hair through irises that made the necromancer salivate, wearing a cute, mischievous smile. "You aren't afraid of her, but you're afraid of me?" Because of their close proximity, Harvey caught a faint whiff of fresh grass wafting from him. That scent, born of the earth yet brimming with the vitality of life, was a peculiar preference the necromancer had never shared with another soul. *Whoosh!* In terror, Harvey recoiled from the two of them. He dared not look directly at the little boy, fixing his gaze only upon the child's short boots. "Who are you?" "Why didn't you ask who she is before asking about me?" The boy's voice was as clear and melodious as wind chimes. "Because I know who she is." "Oh?" Both the boy and the tall woman showed a hint of surprise. "The reformer of the Necromancy faction, founder of the Pacification Rite, and inventor of the 'Mummy Dissection Method'—allowing a corpse to be dissected and reassembled infinitely without damaging it in the slightest, which drastically reduced necromancers' demand for bodies, lowered the barrier of entry to study Necromancy, and ushered in the faction's second golden age," Harvey said. "When I first began my studies, my mentor told me to remember two figures. "One was the Lord of Origin for the Necromancy faction, that great existence who bestowed life upon all undead: Häagen-Dazs. The other was the Lord of Renaissance, the Blood Moon sorcerer who expanded and popularized the faction: Tiramisu! "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Excellency 'Walking Reaper' Tiramisu. The Eye of Death on your forehead is magnificent." Harvey looked at the tall woman. "As a sorcerer who achieved fame a millennium ago, I assumed you would have stepped into the realm of the gods long before now." The reason Harvey had recognized her was not merely because Tiramisu looked identical to her portraits, but more importantly because of her unique 'Eye of Death.' The Eye of Death was the hallmark of a necromancer; when handling corpses, they harnessed the resentment born from the dead to temper their own eyeballs, which gradually granted them keen vision capable of discerning the dead. Only a necromancer could see an Eye of Death; it was their internal gold standard for purity. Legends held that Tiramisu had abandoned ordinary vision entirely, relying solely on her Eye of Death to perceive the world. Harvey had once thought it an exaggeration, but seeing it now, he understood—if Tiramisu's Eye of Death was a pearl, his own was scarcely better than a grain of sand. "I never imagined I'd meet a junior here," Tiramisu said with a gentle smile. "It's actually a bit embarrassing." "In that case..." Harvey looked at the little boy, who had climbed back onto Tiramisu's shoulder. "Who are you? What is your relationship? And may I leave now?" "Don't be in such a rush to leave," the little boy said. "Since you know Tiramisu, we won't hurt you. As for my relationship with Tiramisu..." He caressed Tiramisu's green hair and said, "We're kin, you see." Tiramisu nodded, the corners of her lips curling into a joyful arc. "That's right." The boy looked at Harvey. "What's your name?" "Archibald Harvey. Everyone calls me Harvey." "I am Tiramisu's demon, Yejian." The little boy swung his legs, smiling faintly at the necromancer. He ran his pink little tongue along his lips and said, "Harvey, I really like you. "Would you be interested in becoming my kin?"