Chapter 204: Wolf, Alexander, Mobius (10)

Wolf’s impure lips, still wet from drinking, twitched beneath the coarse hairs of his chin. His wrinkled mouth, which might have been described as charmingly crooked at times, twisted in the ugliest direction as he called out the elf’s name.

‘Petunia.’

‘It’s been a while.’

There were no other women present at the location where the two conversed. The women freed from Wolf’s embrace had already moved on without lingering, seeking their own beds. In the room, filled with the traces of intimacy and a lewd scent, only the two of them faced each other. Petunia Titi looked at the bed with a displeased expression.

Sex devoid of love, filled only with lust, had occurred in this room.

After ejaculating, Wolf would shove the woman aside like a sex toy, get an erection, and then penetrate another woman. With mechanical movements, like a factory producing children, Wolf moved his hips, repeating ejaculation and penetration.

Wolf said, pulling on the pants that had fallen to the floor.

‘If you’d told me you were coming, I would have treated you properly.’

‘I wasn’t coming officially. I came personally.’

At the word ‘personally,’ Wolf’s eyes scanned Petunia’s body once more. Was he like this even before Fabian died? Petunia remembered Wolf’s heavy gaze fixed on her during Fabian’s funeral. Back then, he wasn’t the man with that weak, wavering look in his eyes like he had now.

But time had passed since the funeral. Without Fabian, and without Petunia Titi, Wolf was plummeting like a runaway cart in a mine. Hearing her say she came personally, Wolf asked.

‘Personally?’

Seeing his hesitation as he struggled to put on his pants only deepened Petunia Titi’s disappointment. He was broken. Lost amidst the death of his comrade and an unfillable sense of loss. Petunia Titi said.

‘Wolf. Snap out of it. You’re a Hero. You can’t keep living like this.’

‘……Did the Elder send you? To stop me?’

Wolf pulled up his pants. As he fastened his belt, his belly fat jiggled slightly. Petunia Titi tried to find merits in his body, excluding the elements that disappointed her. Sagging skin, thin muscles, a vacant gaze. If all his flaws were erased, the existence of the Hero Wolf would not remain in this room.

‘Wolf, why do you think others are trying to stop you? Because they hate you? Because you’re a nuisance? No. Wolf, they’re trying to stop you because they care about you.’

Petunia looked straight into Wolf’s eyes as she spoke. Wolf wore a skeptical expression regarding the love being poured onto him.

‘Petunia, I know. I know everyone cares about me. I know Alexander genuinely worries about me. I know Elder Mobius is giving me advice.’

Wolf closed his mouth. He couldn’t add much explanation about his unstable mind and depleted body. Ever since the woman he loved died, he suffered from anxiety symptoms even while keeping women by his side. The satisfaction he felt only briefly when ejaculating deep inside a woman and holding her would immediately plunge him into self-loathing as the heat cooled and the excitement subsided.

Then, he would throw away the woman he had embraced and seek another, repeating the cycle. Only in that moment, when someone held him tight and told him they felt good, did he find solace.

That couldn’t be expressed with the word love. In a way, it was obsession, or perhaps similar to a sleep habit of hugging a doll.

How many women had he gone through? He had held women who resembled the one he loved, and he had met completely different types. He had even met women who claimed to love him, crying and clinging to him.

But it was only for that moment when he laid them on the bed and ejaculated.

Only for that moment when he ejaculated deep inside them to feel they were his.

After that brief moment passed, the sweat cooled, the moans subsided, and Wolf fell back into anxiety.

Wolf couldn’t explain these things to Petunia. He could only shake his head and say.

‘I know, but I can’t change. I can’t feel stable unless I do this.’

His peculiar symptoms had worsened significantly after Fabian died. It wasn’t just the fact that Fabian was dead that shocked him, but the fact that Fabian had disregarded him and rushed into the North. The fact that the person he considered his closest friend hadn’t left him even a single letter cast doubt on their past time together.

When Fabian, whom he thought was his closest comrade, left like that, it felt like he had nothing left. Angela, whom he loved. Fabian, whom he truly relied on. Wolf was too weak a human to endure the separation from both of them emotionally.

Lovers who professed their love, his closest friends, even his family-it felt like they could all leave him at any moment. Just like his family died in Ithaca. Just like Fabian jumped into the demon’s maw. Just like the women who told him they loved him left him alone in bed when it was time to sleep.

Wolf looked back at Petunia. Tears welled in his eyes, and his hands trembled. At some point, Wolf stopped looking in the mirror. Fearing the departure of his family and friends, he wanted to control people more forcefully.

But as his political standing eroded, people began to oppose him, and each time, his anxiety worsened, driving him to indulge more in women and alcohol.

He fell into debauchery, alienated the public by only protecting his family, and lost public favor, which intensified his anxiety. Wolf was trapped in a vicious cycle of rebellion.

Petunia said.

‘You… you’ve changed so much. The Wolf I knew wasn’t like this. They say you don’t even attend to state affairs because you’re too busy protecting your family? The corruption of your family is so blatant it reaches the Elf Forest. Please, Wolf. Stop. Okay?’

Petunia was speaking the facts. Wolf denied what she was saying. Wolf’s eyes trembled, and his rough hand grabbed Petunia. Wolf said.

‘No……. It can’t be like that. If I don’t give my family strength, someone will eventually kill my family again. Angela. How did Angela die? Petunia.’

‘Do you think someone’s death is an excuse for what’s happening now? Wolf. That was truly unfortunate, but all the involved parties are dead now, aren’t they? Huh? Wolf. You can do better than this.’

‘This is the best I can do. Someone has to give my family strength. Petunia. Don’t say that…….’

Wolf reached out his hand. As he tried to pull her by grabbing her delicate wrist, Petunia showed resistance.

‘Wh-what are you doing? Let go!’

Petunia flinched at Wolf’s disheveled appearance and the strength in his arm, recoiling backward. As she stood up abruptly and created distance, Wolf reached out his hand as if regretful. Petunia looked back and forth between her wrist, which bore a red mark, and Wolf.

She was scared.

For the first time, Petunia felt fear and bewilderment towards Wolf. The feeling of love, which she thought could give anything, was slowly receding like moss swept away by the tide. Petunia said.

‘Wolf. Can you really, truly not stop? Are you going to keep living like this?’

‘…I can’t.’

It was the literal truth. Wolf couldn’t. The moment he uttered those words, he read the disappointment dawning in her eyes. Suddenly, Wolf felt a wave of anxiety wash over him, fearing that she, too, might leave him.

‘Petunia.’

Wolf took a step forward. As he moved, Petunia stepped back, shaking her head. His eyes were wavering, his expression seemed ready to flee at any moment. And his legs were poised as if ready to bolt.

Wolf shook his head. He wasn’t talking about lust right now. He simply wanted to convey the literal meaning. He wanted someone to stay by his side. Since he had sent all the women back to their rooms, he would have to spend the rest of the night with alcohol. He’d rather spend time talking nonsense with her.

Foolish stories from their adventures. Stories about his family. The anxiety and sadness he felt after Fabian left.

‘Stay the night. Please stay the night. I’ll… I’ll prepare a room for you.’

And when those words ended, Wolf saw her face contort.

With an indescribable expression, she shook her head, then looked at the floor, catching her breath, and blinked up at the ceiling. Tears welled in her eyes, and her face turned red.

Her breathing grew ragged, and she bit her lip tightly.

Petunia Titi, her face brimming with tears, said to Wolf.

‘…I want to go back.’

‘…Petunia. That…!’

Wolf said urgently, reaching out his hand. But before he could grab her, she turned and fled the royal palace. Wolf waved his hand through the air with a look of emptiness, then slumped back to the floor, his hands trembling.

Blinking, he tilted his head, chasing the lingering scent of the elf, clutched a bottle of alcohol rolling on the floor, and finally began to cry. Then, hating the crying, he drank again and collapsed on the floor, burying his head in his hands.

There were so many reasons.

Today, Angela’s face came to mind again.

Today, he remembered again that Fabian had abandoned him.

Today, Petunia left.

‘…Bastard.’

And Petunia, unable to walk more than a few steps, collapsed. Her face, stained with anger and betrayal, continued to shed tears. The very fact that he saw her as just a casual woman to spend the night with felt like an insult.

‘Seriously…! Seriously, you son of a bitch…! Sob…! Hic…!’

In the dark night.

Only the starlight enveloped her, and the sound of sobbing from the alley shadows echoed faintly.

‘I liked you…! I really liked you…!’