“It brushed the corner of my mouth.” It wasn’t a kiss. His lips, slipping by as if mistaken, touched my ear.“Don’t let your guard down.”I snapped my head up, and in the blink of an eye Jerome was back in his seat by the window. He wore a teasing smile, even tapping the armrest with his fingertip in mock playfulness.“……”He was so kind. I clenched and unclenched the pistol in my hand. It felt warm—Jerome must have been keeping it hidden against his chest all along. He could have shot me and gone back to Timothy to finish whatever business he had there. The safety was off. I clicked it back on and tucked the gun into my coat.“Are you kindly telling me that the best revenge is for me to die without avenging myself against Timothy or the Club?”Jerome merely shrugged. I finally lit a cigarette.“Why should I believe anything you say?”“What else is there but to believe me? You’ve wasted the last eight years, as far as I know.”“Well, seeing how far this has brought me, it wasn’t all for nothing. Jerome, I don’t trust a single word out of your mouth.”“How cruel of you…”“Isn’t turning me over to Timothy a far sweeter revenge? Wouldn’t he be furious? To learn his prized warhorse was playing petty tricks behind his back—what do you think he’d do when he finds out?”Jerome cocked his head and pretended to ponder seriously.“He’d be angry.”“Jerome, no matter what lies you spin, I won’t fall for it. You begged for my attention to save Anna. If dying without revenge were the most dreadful fate, you’d never confess so readily. I’ve been fooled by your wordplay too many times. It won’t happen again.”“So what do you intend now? Shall we really run off together in a lovers’ escape?”“I’m going to let you live.”This time I lunged at Jerome and grabbed him by the collar. His eyes, calm and devoid of any madness, locked on mine. I felt a profound betrayal—by Jerome. A depth of betrayal I’d never felt from anyone else. The spark of his madness had vanished, leaving me bereft.“I’ll make «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» you suffer. I’ll give you unbearable, excruciating pain. A life of torment and anguish; a life you can never escape no matter how hard you try. A wretched life.”“You can’t.”“I can.”“You can’t.”Jerome said with utter casualness, “You can’t.”I raised my fist to strike his face, but the sight of Jerome’s expressionless face suddenly filled me with terror. I staggered back. In the reflection of the dark train window, I saw myself consumed by fear. I found myself inching away, gripped by a sudden dread. If this train doesn’t stop—if it keeps going—where am I headed? Have I boarded the wrong train?Jerome offered no answer to my silent question. He simply stood, arms raised, and watched me through the glass. When the train jolted sharply, panic seized me and I bolted from the carriage.I ran down the narrow corridor, passing room after room—each one empty or filled to bursting, none welcoming. No door offered refuge. Only the endless, grimy hallway stretched before me, compelling me onward, onward, without knowing why or where.“Welcome.”At the end of the corridor a door slid open, and a waiter appeared. His greeting froze me in place. Alarmed, he asked, “Are you all right? Shall I show you to a table?”It was the dining car. Gasping for breath, half-lost in shock, I nodded. Despite his suspicion, the waiter led me to an empty seat. I collapsed into the chair and managed to order a hot cup of coffee.I sipped the coffee slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. What was I going to do—run away with Jerome? I summoned a violent impulse. I’d sever his limbs! Let him crawl to Timothy for revenge. He’d never leave me; I’d take him down to the grave before he left. Or maybe I’d kill Timothy first—then Jerome would have no choice but to stay. I could even tether him as I’d been, bind him with a leash, train him gently until he thought he could never live without me.…Look at my obsession with Jerome. I covered my face with my hands and exhaled a low breath. Over the long years, I wasn’t the only one who had changed.“Would you like another cup?”I raised my head. The waiter, coffee pot in hand, stood by my table, concern in his eyes. Outside the window, streetlamps and the dim lights of farmhouses flickered past. One cup of coffee wasn’t enough to give me the courage to return to the carriage. I nodded briefly, crossed my arms tightly, feeling the pistol in my coat digging into my side. The waiter refilled my cup and departed.I stayed there until morning, drinking three cups of coffee. When the sky finally brightened so much that I could delay no longer, I rose. Dragging my feet, I left the dining car and walked, stopping once, nervously touching my ear. In the windows of the rooms lining the corridor behind me, I caught sight of a man who froze when he noticed me. I didn’t look back; I glanced at my reflection in the glass. Hood up, jacket on, he turned and slipped inside one of the rooms. It felt suspicious, but he didn’t follow me further, so I trudged back to my compartment.When I opened the door, no one was there. My backpack was gone. For a few seconds I blinked, then realization struck like lightning. The train had stopped at several quiet rural stations overnight. He’d had countless chances to escape. Yet in my panic I’d fled into the corridor and torn through every compartment, back to the dining car, even rifled the restrooms—Jerome was nowhere to be found. I nearly collapsed on the spot. Didn’t he warn me not to let my guard down? I laughed bitterly. Such kindness, truly. I kept repeating his kindly advice over and over as I made my way back to my room.But when I opened the door, Jerome sat there as if nothing had happened. My missing backpack lay beside him. He greeted me cheerfully, “You’ve finally come back, Raymond. Shall we go get something to eat?”“You… where… where did you go?”Then I noticed his hair was damp, and his cheeks and jaw were cleanly shaven; his nape was wet as if he’d just washed. He’d gone to freshen up—he’d never left the train at all, we’d simply crossed paths. Relief flooded me, only to surge back into hatred and fury so intense my head felt ready to burst. Standing there trembling with rage, Jerome stepped close.“You thought I ran away?” He studied my face and whispered sweetly, “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere without you.”“……”“There was that line in that terrible novel you bought,” he said, grinning like a mischievous child. He produced the book I’d been reading last night and shook it before me, his lively, playful face silent but brilliant.“I apologize for criticizing your reading taste so recklessly yesterday. It was quite riveting. I stayed up all night reading it.”“……”“What did you do last night?”“I…” I stared at Jerome, then slumped into the chair as if it had collapsed beneath me. My knees buckled; I almost hit the floor. I drew a long breath, rummaged in my coat for a cigarette, and lit it. Jerome watched, eyes wide, as if waiting for me to answer, but I waved him off and inhaled deeply.Over the next three cigarettes, Jerome busied himself. He seemed to have broken his fever and regained some strength. When his body warmed, he pulled on a sweater, examined the dried-out sandwich he’d brought, and ate it in three measured bites. As I reached for a fourth cigarette, he came over and snatched the pack away.“You look terrible. Give up the cigarettes and let’s have breakfast.”“You look quite spry.”“My fever’s down.” He leaned in and lightly bumped foreheads with me, smiling as our noses touched. “Thanks to that quack of a doctor.”He took my wrist and helped me to my feet. All the way to the dining car, he hummed a cheerful tune, greeting the waiter exuberantly, and led me to a secluded corner table. I still couldn’t believe he hadn’t run off. While I stared in stunned silence, Jerome lounged back and placed a long order with the waiter. I simply asked for toast with jam.A short while later, I watched in astonishment as Jerome devoured four fist-sized scones with jam and cream, then polished off the main course of roast beef, potatoes, and carrots in the blink of an eye. Still hungry, he ordered a shepherd’s pie and finished every piece of meat on the plate. I watched, dumbfounded, as he then requested another cup of tea.My own jam-topped toast lay forgotten and dried out. Losing my appetite, I pushed the plate aside and said, “I shouldn’t let you live much longer.”Jerome, massaging his clean-shaven jaw and staring out the window, turned to me.“I’d blow through my wallet in less than a week feeding you.”“Oh, you who abandoned everything for me—how can you even say that?” I reproached him with mock indignation.“You said it was a lovers’ escape, right? You threw away money and honor and chose me.”“Exactly. I chose you.” Jerome said playfully. Then he leaned forward and whispered, “Though I had neither money nor honor to throw away, only a pathetic tailing job.”I stared at him in surprise just as the waiter brought my tea. Jerome leisurely stirred sugar into his cup, then suddenly looked at me. In an innocent tone, he said, “Your coffee has gone cold.”I turned and called the waiter back, asking for a fresh cup, and let my eyes scan the dining car. My heart skipped: two men sat just a few tables away—one was the hooded man who had followed me earlier. The waiter departed, and I asked Jerome, “That guy in the hood? He was trailing me before, too.”“He’s probably been following us since Releium.”“Who is he?”

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.