The Truth
"Dreamlike..."
Nietzsche murmured unconsciously, staring at the oil painting.
Through it, he seemed to see the starry sky, the night... and that hazy phantom.
"Nietzsche, what's wrong?"
Seeming to notice something was off, Hannibal shook Nietzsche by the shoulder.
Nietzsche turned his head instinctively. His vision seemed hazy, as if veiled by a layer of white fog.
But through the fog, Hannibal looked utterly different. The skin on his face had peeled away in patches, exposing vivid red muscle beneath. His hands had become claws, and his eyes glowed with a hint of crimson!
"Ah!!!"
The boy screamed, his face turning pale as he nearly fainted.
When he looked up again, he saw Mr. Robert, his face set in displeasure, and Hannibal, restored to normal.
It seemed everything he had just seen was nothing but an illusion.
"Mr. Robert, we'll take our leave now!"
Hannibal bid their host farewell with impeccable manners, then led Nietzsche out of the villa and lowered his voice. "What on earth happened to you?"
"I... I..." Nietzsche trembled all over, barely able to speak.
Instinctively, he didn't want to tell his sunny-natured superior Hannibal what he had just seen. He could only say vaguely, "I feel like that oil painting holds a huge secret!"
Suddenly, his eyes lit up when he spotted Angelila wandering by the roadside. "You're... the tour guide from the exhibition hall?"
"That's me..."
Angelila was wearing a black gauzy dress, lending her an air of mystery. "You can see the 'abnormality' in the oil painting?"
There was no doubt she had overheard the conversation between Hannibal and Nietzsche.
At this, Hannibal's expression turned serious, and he placed a hand on the holster at his waist.
"Yes, I can see it!"
Nietzsche, however, was a little excited. Between his confirmed