Leo knew that it wasn't because of fate that he became "friends" with Yavre; it's more like a social recognition- the other side recognized his identity and gave him the right to talk directly with him. But of course, Yavre's attitude towards him was more like how King Arthur treated the Knights of the Round Table.
The round table was not a sign of an equal footing, but a kind of grace-like tolerance.
But Leo didn't care about that-he just needed to hit the snake with a stick, and appear confident and casual, "Then you can also just call me Garcia."
Appreciation flashed across Yavre's eyes as he extended his hand towards Garcia, "Nice to meet you, my friend."
"Likewise." Leo shook the other's hand politely, and he felt a damp coldness, like a cold-blooded animal with scaly skin.
He loathed this feminine and gorgeous man, be it on the mission's perspective or personal feelings. But right now he had to hide that emotion and put on a show of deep affection.
"May I take the liberty to ask, are you going to participate in tomorrow's event?" Leo asked.
Yavre did not answer directly, and instead asked him in return, "Do you know anything about fox hunting?"
"Fox hunting?"
"Yes, it's an event with a long history. We take our personally tamed horses and our jointed hunting rifles to enjoy the fresh country air, the leisurely life of the estate, help people get rid of a scourge, and the dewy love affair with a good-looking country girl. It's one of the hobbies of the nobles. However, I enjoyed watching more than getting myself covered in the smell of blood and gunpowder.
The frightened, weary prey; the prowling, stalking hunter -all played out like a play on a jungle stage, ah, how fun! The only difference is that on an ordinary stage, a fallen character can be resurrected behind the curtains, waiting for the next session to continue the same lines; whereas on this real stage - "
Yavre held out his arms to the distant jungle in a commanding gesture like a conductor during a musical performance "Each life is lived only once, will never be repeated each line is never repeated; and no one knows to whom the red flower of death will be thrown at the next moment. Isn't the excitement of this total unknown more thrilling than any play?" He closed his eyes drunkenly, as if he was listening intently to some inaudible music flowing with the forest wind and the sea breeze-
-as if he was listening to the great performance about the sound of life.
Fuck you! Leo raged in his heart. They're not foxes! They are breathing, living human beings, just like you! Or do you think you've become so noble that you're out of the human league?!
At that moment, he was on the verge of throwing the scumbag next to him off the high platform, but thinking of his mission, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and hold back. He plastered a smile of admiration on his face, and said something disgusting: "Although I don't have that much interested in stage plays and the like, but I have to admit that Your Excellency's imagination is enough to turn things into magic, and this idea is just brilliant! Compared to those wild beast with less intelligence, those human-animals are the more interesting and challenging to hunt! I can't wait to experience your creativity!"
The Duke's son showed a languid and pleased expression, like a cat whose fur got groomed. "You are full of vigor, Garcia, but not very attentive on balancing work and rest," he said meaningfully, "Don't you think a nightingale is a lovely bird with a pleasant cry?"
Leo shrugged regretfully, "I know I might offend someone by saying this, but I'm not a very good liar: those birds really do have such beautiful feathers, but they have no character nor substance. It's quite hard for me to like those kinds of people.
"Character and substance?" Yavre turned his head to look at him, "Then what kind of 'character and substance' do you want in a person?" His profile turned frighteningly beautiful under the moonlight, emitting a sweet scent as stale as opium and his elegance moved to only a hair's breadth away from eroticism "-Like mine?"
The quick change in his temperament caught Leo by surprise, "Like yours..." he repeated dumbly.
With that thrilling sense of conquest, Yavre smiled. He wouldn't mind adding more subjects down his pants, especially if it's this young, handsome, and strong man in front of him.
He took two leisurely steps closer, pulled out a fancy handkerchief folded inside his breast pocket and slowly, teasingly, slipped it into the other man's suit pocket, his voice low and soft as he said, "If you can hunt the most cunning and beautiful fox and offer it to me, I will give you a reward ...... Look forward to my reward as it would definitely make your heart race."
It wasn't until he was back in his villa room that Leo removed the pleased look on his face and put on a sober and disgusted expression.
He endured to touch the perfumed handkerchief in order to pull it out of his pocket, then immediately threw it into the trash. But he realized that the cleaning maid might find it, therefore he took it out of the trash in distaste and instead flung it into the back of one of the drawers in the closet.
He originally thought that the young Yavre was a scumbag who treats human life as grass, but now it now it seemed that he would have to add another modifier: a sissy scumbag who treats human life as grass.
God knows why that guy would be interested in him. He recalled the way that guy looked at him: there was an obscene and evil desire in his eyes, like a female spider who devours her mate alive while mating, spraying out poison from every pore.
--Damn it, why didn't the information provided by the bureau indicate that he has a penchant for seducing male members? Leo thought with annoyance, If I knew, I would have asked the makeup artist to create an ugly look for me!
To think that I have to let myself be seduced in order to complete the mission....
What's more unbearable was that I cannot forcefully refuse lest the other party turn his face...Leo felt suffocated that he thought he might vomit blood.
I'm hoping for this damn mission to end soon!
He took another shower to rinse off the smell of perfume, and then took a pill and lay on the bed waiting for the drowsiness to come, while silently thinking: tomorrow...tomorrow.
Reducing the dose by half and then half again as per the doctor's orders hadn't been as ineffective as he'd feared, or maybe it was because Debbie's ghost had left peacefully and no longer haunted him.
He eventually fell asleep.
He dreamed of his boy standing side by side with Molly who was holding a bouquet at the wedding. He was reading a wedding card, and each word was like a paw clawing at him and preventing him to escape so that he could continue getting tormented by pain.
He also dreamed of Sha Qing with a blurred face, soaked in blood. He tried to tackle him, who was trying to escape, to the ground but he suddenly found themselves embracing naked in a battlefield strewn with bodies.
Sha Qing's eyes were ice-cold, but his body was hot.
A part of him was inside Sha Qing, and the latter's tri-edged military knife was inside him.
Chase me.
He heard him say.
Keep on chasing me until hell ......
Leo suddenly woke up.
The morning light outside the window was faint, and the hunting day of the goddess, Artemis, had arrived.
YOU ARE READING
Sha Qing
ActionHe uses desire to ensnare others, he uses blood as temptation, he uses his appearance as a disguise. Like a wolf, he hunts for prey in the shadows. He is among the FBI's most wanted list of serial killers. He lives by his own law, the Lex Talionis...
