𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡!

𝟏-𝟏

The sun shines through the window, escaping from the grasp of the see-through curtains that dance to the tune of the flower smell breeze of spring.

Nothing beats another same day, a repeating day that one can say is 'boring' and 'bland' although the commotion outside the classroom garners the eyes and ears of the students inside the classroom because of the two popular people, the natures of this school; the school grass and flower, first time interacting.

The weather seemingly cooperates during the plot progression, or maybe thanks to these two people's powerful halo that also affected it, creating a good atmosphere for someone to read.

Nevertheless, Suan's attention is glued to the book he is reading and he almost wants to kneel in front of it and worship it for the content detailed and accurate introduction of his babies.

No one knows, except him. This world is the typical, very cliche romance trope that his girl best friend often read and forced him also to read.

He can't say no to that rotten woman that can cause his ears to bleed from rapping a homily of 'her being so holiness', that narcissistic woman.

Well, he can't remember the cause of his death but still, he was happy to be reincarnated as a passerby no. 2 in the book that has the personality of being quiet, gloomy, and very introverted.

Interacting is annoying, he isn't a social butterfly, flapping their mouth- oh, he meant their wings.

In his previous life, learning and having his babies was illegal but in this life, his family who didn't even care about his existence just let him do whatever he wanted.

Suan would be ungrateful if he just said that he didn't miss his previous life, yes and no? If you know the words 'Different day, same shits' or 'Same shits, different day' you will understand what he is pointing out.

While reading, he also didn't forget to repeat the lines of the Female lead in his mind, muttering the words with no emotions, similar to a soulless prophet.

"Money? Really? Is your brain made of gold and money bills? You don't have any right to hurt a person!" Suan and the Female lead said in unison other than that his voice is very similar to a mechanical voice, with no emotions while the woman is fuming in anger.

That includes the male lead's line: "Helping? Really? You also, don't have any rights to stick your nose to someone else's business!"

After this clashing is done, he will cut classes and straightly go home to connect the loads of his babies. Despite him being facially paralyzed, he can smile- but to his babies only.

Assembling and also dismantling them, customizing some parts, and experimenting with the accuracy, damage, and time usage (He was referring to how fast he can make his babies shoot).

The thick 12 inches with a height of 2,400 pixels is equivalent to 25 inches or 63.5 centimeters. The width of the book of 1,920 pixels = 20 inches = 50.8 centimeters-, every page weighs 0.10 mm. The smell of potassium nitrate that enters through his nose sends signals to his nerves to transmit to a certain part of his brain: the amygdala which is responsible for processing strong emotions, he felt pleasure, enough to make him hard.

From basic to professional, the book contains detailed explanations of usages, pros, and don'ts. How to assemble them and clean them.

To someone like Suan, this passion will be easy to learn and understand. This thing, his babies, are his oxygen. Without his babies that represent the oxygen, the blood is sufficiently saturated, ensuring that the cells and tissues receive an adequate supply of oxygen. Additionally, oxygen is something that cells and tissues cannot "store up" or "catch up" on; rather, they require a constant supply.

In short, without his babies, he might end up dying.

Suan, whose attention is focused on the thick book on his desk, now then forgets the two natures that are immobile clashing, not done yet.

A buzzing sound echoed through the halls, indicating the start of classes. The crowd soon dispersed and the students that watched the commotion went back reluctantly to their classrooms.

Suan stood up. A screeching sound from the feet of his chair scratched the floor as he carried his bag to his back and his other free hand gripping tightly the book.

No one perceived or saw his back, slowly striding out of the classroom. His low presence is indeed a blessing to him. This isn't the first time he cut classes, dirtying his records.

The corridor creating an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach is deafingly quiet nevertheless, he shrugs his shoulder and leisurely walks to the halls.

Room by room, the windows were closed. The doors were also closed but not locked, his eyes venturing every corner as he muttered every word inside the book, he memorized it. All of it.

To the ceiling, to the vase, to the small sprinkler, to the cobwebs. His eyes didn't miss anything but soon stopped in a room.

It was vacant but was occupied by something. Suan who also stopped walking, quickly got inside the room, dropped down his bag, and took the violin that was lying at the top of the closed lid of the piano.

Dusty but bearable. The cold glossy instrument that is relaxing on his left shoulder was now cleaned by his sleeve school uniform, thanks to the help of Maestro Suan.

Niccolo Paganini Caprice no. 5. He was titled as the Devil's Violinist.

Resonates to Suan, wanting to share a story, the thrilling excitement, the fast tempo. A very good background music while the school is now in turmoil.

Every string, landing, kissing every minor, up and down. The violin was submitted to the young man. His white hair shakes with every move of his, and his dull gray eyes shine no star in every key of A minor.

While he was enjoying, the dead who brought back to life, pouncing every student and teacher, eating them raw and alive.

The rustic smell of death perfumed the school, and the melody of demise that Suan was playing created a harmonious sound to every scream and cry, despair and terror of the students and teachers.

Blood that gushes out from the head, and meat of a human attracts the hunters. It was a sight to behold! It was akin to an addicting drug apart from that the taker is a walking dead and the drug is the meat of a human.

Oblivious to what is happening, Suan enjoys the sweetness of the instrument of generation and the masterpiece of the Devil, bringing him another surge of pleasure.

The see-through curtains that analogous to a graceful ballerina narrating the sweat and tragic deaths of the youths.

When the storytelling of Suan has finished. He meticulously put down the violin that he used to where he took it, then took his things and got out.

He was still holding the thick book, hugging it: A pearl of the dragon and also might it be his reverse scale.

Walking, his eyes that is outside, looking at the beautiful color of the sky. It was sunny and also cloudy- how should he describe it? Yes, good. Very good weather.

But his, enjoying the sky outside didn't last long. Similar to the smoke that dried his nose, the rich smell of blood that is far away from where he is right now, he can smell it.

Who baths at blood?