The White Demon

Deep within the ancient castle, in the walk-in closet.

Snow-white hair, soft features, and a gentleness hidden within the eyes.

A tear mole beneath the right eye added a touch of allure.

A high-bridged nose and a handsome face.

Gentle and poised.

The corners of the mouth curled into a smile that was just right.

Noble and elegant.

A white Lolita dress, wrapped in layers.

Black leather boots, black silk stockings hugging slender legs.

A white rose bloomed atop silk gloves.

Beautiful and moving.

A young lady among the nobility.

That should be it, right?

No, perhaps a few more things should be added.

For instance...

Those eyes, gentle yet sharp.

Like a sword piercing through ghosts and phantoms.

Stabbing straight into the heart.

A pride unique to the nobility was hidden between the brows.

No matter how gentle this person appeared, no one would mistake them for a soft-hearted pushover.

Blood-red pupils shimmered with flowing light.

Like a garden of red roses in full bloom for ages.

Or like a pool of blood in the endless abyss of hell.

Perhaps it contained an unknown, fragrant beauty.

Perhaps, deep within, it reflected hair-raising corpses and bones.

But regardless, one would be drawn to this pure and haughty white rose.

Even if they were covered in thorns.

Even if it meant being torn to shreds or crushed to dust, one could not help but attempt to pluck this proud spirit from the highlands.

"Ah! Look, look, I was right, wasn't I? Just look at how beautiful my little Coleman is."

Mother Kikyo's electronic eyes flickered incessantly, her excitement plain to see.

What a beautiful child!

What a treasure one would want to hide away in a golden house.

Beautiful.

So beautiful it made one want to destroy it.

Kikyo couldn't help but pull her child into a massive hug.

"My treasure, you are simply too beautiful. How about you go out dressed like this from now on?"

As if wanting to show off her prize, she couldn't suppress the impulse at all.

This was her child, how perfect!

Held tightly, Coleman squinted.

Enjoying the warmth from Mother's embrace.

Even if this embrace was a bit painful.

Kikyo's strength was still a bit much, causing the child in her arms some stinging pain.

However, Coleman interpreted this pain as love from a mother.

Painful, yet happy.

Coleman reached out, wrapped arms around Mother, and patted her back. After a moment of thought, Coleman spoke with a smile.

"But, if I do that, other people will see Coleman like this, you know. Doesn't Mother mind?"

Crisp, yet it was a girl's voice.

Higher than a boy's, yet very pleasant to the ear.

Like a lark perched on a branch.

Chirping away, yet never annoying.

Kikyo shoved Coleman away abruptly, looking at her youngest son in surprise.

Since when did little Coleman learn to change his voice?

However, this thought didn't last more than a second before she cast it aside.

He was her son, after all!

Her voice rising to a sharp, shrill pitch, Kikyo shrieked, "Husband! Husband! Come and look!"

She pulled Coleman back into her arms, trembling with excitement.

"My little Coleman is so clever! Mommy is just so thrilled!"

Then, remembering Coleman's words from a moment ago, her voice lowered, though it remained piercing.

"In the future, you are only allowed to wear these for Mommy. You must not wear such clothes outside casually—unless, of course, a mission requires it..."

Before she could finish, a peculiar sense of possessiveness swallowed the woman whole.

She did not want anyone else to see Coleman like this.

Beautiful scenery should be enjoyed alone.

Coleman smiled, gentle and soft, looking every bit the young lady.

"Alright, Mommy."

As he spoke, he nuzzled against Kikyo's hand.

"I love Mommy the most."

Perhaps it was this sentence that awakened the woman's maternal instincts, or perhaps it was that it satisfied her possessiveness.

For the first time, Kikyo smiled with genuine tenderness.

"Mommy loves Coleman, too."

There was no "the most."

A flicker of dissatisfaction stirred in Coleman's heart.

But, remembering his older brothers, he let it go.

Mommy was not his mother alone, so her love had to be shared.

Still, she said she loved him.

This realization made Coleman very happy.

He carefully threw himself into Kikyo's arms, acting spoiled.

He felt no shame at all.

Even though he had already lived for thirty years in his past life, he was acting just like a small child now.

The mother and son were enjoying a rare moment of tenderness.

Unfortunately, an uninvited guest arrived.

Almost simultaneously, both mother and son turned their heads to look to their side.

But the assassin's movements were faster than theirs.

A short blade struck out from a tricky angle.

Subconsciously, Coleman pulled his mother behind him, even taking care to ensure Kikyo wouldn't stumble and hurt herself.

He stepped forward and reached out, gripping the short blade in his hand.

Blood splattered everywhere.

Drops landed on the snow-white dress.

The sharp blade felt as if it had been thrust into a quagmire, unable to move forward or backward.

Looking at the intruder, Coleman tilted his head, his gaze shifting downward in that position.

When he saw the bloodstains dirtying the fabric, his pupils constricted.

He licked his lips.

"It's dirty."

His voice was hoarse, carrying a strange, eerie quality.

It was impossible to tell if he was angry, yet one could feel that he was currently extremely dangerous.

His eyes shifted slightly, fixing his gaze on the attacker.

He smiled.

A scarlet tongue tip darted out from between his lips, licking away the blood that had splattered onto the corner of his mouth.

"Sweet."

He gave the answer slowly, as if savoring the taste.

The attacker was drenched in sweat, pulling hard on his short blade, only to find it wouldn't budge at all!

He wanted to abandon it, but knew it was already too late.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, finally settling on one.

Might as well take one down with me.

With this thought, he stopped pulling outward and instead chose to use the momentum to thrust the short blade toward Coleman.

Unfortunately, Coleman, a killer by trade, sensed this foolish intention.

Playing along, Coleman let go of his resistance, following the attacker's force to let the blade push inward.

He tilted his body slightly, taking the opportunity to yank the man toward him.

Just like that, as the man stumbled uncontrollably to Coleman's side.

Coleman chuckled, whispering into his ear.

"Oh? Delivering yourself to me?"

Releasing the short blade, he tensed his fingers.

Pfft.

The moment his nails elongated, they pierced into the man's body.

Vicious and playful.

He turned his head, even having the leisure to ask, "Does it hurt?"

The man could not answer.

The sharp, piercing pain had rendered him speechless.

"I suppose it doesn't hurt, then."

He answered his own question.

Coleman pulled his hand out, balled it into a fist, and struck the man in the abdomen.

The attacker's body tilted backward, carried by the inertia.

And at that very moment, Coleman, expressionless, plunged his hand into the enemy's body once more.

One, two, three—a cycle of strikes.

Yet he was very measured; none of them were fatal wounds that would let him die.

"That's enough, Coleman."

Kikyo regained her composure, realizing her son was acting out of malicious revenge, and called for him to stop.

If this continued, not only the dress, but even his leather shoes would be ruined.

It wasn't that she was heartbroken over them.

But Coleman looked truly beautiful in that outfit.

Kikyo wanted to preserve it.

"But Mother, he got the dress dirty."

Hearing his mother's words, Coleman obediently stopped, threw the man three or four meters away with a forceful shove, and blinked, his face full of innocence.

He looked like an ordinary little girl who had accidentally stained her dress.

In the one-sided fight that had just occurred, blood had stained more than half of the pure white dress.

Drops of blood flowed down, following the hem of the skirt, and dripped onto the floor.

Drip.

Drip.

His fair cheeks were splattered with blood.

A few strands of hair were dyed red.

His hollow eyes were like dead silence.

But Kikyo could see clearly the anger and resentment hidden within them.

It was as if he were blaming the man for dirtying the dress.

Taking a handkerchief, Kikyo wiped Coleman's face.

Bit by bit, she wiped the blood away.

"If it's dirty, just throw it away and buy another. Don't dirty your hands for trash."

She spoke indifferently, her movements gentle.

She didn't spare a single glance for the intruder.

Footsteps echoed from outside the door, and only then did the servants hurry over.

"My apologies, My Lady..."

Before the words could be finished, Kikyo cut them off with a wave of her hand.

She gestured, as if issuing a command.

The leader of the group nodded, signaled, and dragged the half-dead intruder away.

"The Master is dealing with other intruders and will be here shortly."

Adjusting his glasses, the butler Wutong said softly.

"Mm, bring the medical kit."

Kikyo showed no reaction, focusing only on cleaning the blood off Coleman.

"Young Master Coleman..."

Hearing his name, Coleman turned his head.

His eyes had already returned to their usual, spirited appearance.

He spoke with a smile.

"I was just grazed by a blade, it's nothing."

As he spoke, he raised his uninjured hand.

The next moment, he was yanked back by Kikyo.

"Mother..."

He blinked, tilting his head, looking at her in confusion.

Then, realizing something, he became somewhat flustered: "Mother, I... I didn't mean to, it's just... he was going to hurt Mother, I... I... I'm sorry."

His explanation was incoherent, and as he spoke, his voice grew quieter and more dejected.

Children of the Zoldyck Family shouldn't be getting hurt because of trash like that.

However, acting on impulse at the time, Coleman had subconsciously chosen the method with the greatest intimidation and deterrent effect.

After all, a normal person wouldn't provoke a madman.

Especially a madman who feared neither pain nor death.

But, was Mother angry?

No, he couldn't make Mother angry!

Please don't let Mother dislike me.

Anxiety and fear made Coleman instinctively grab the hem of Kikyo's dress.

Kikyo fell silent, watching Coleman's uneasy expression, and realized only then what had happened.

Her expression just now must have frightened her obedient youngest son.

She smiled: "It's alright, Coleman didn't do anything wrong, why are you apologizing?"

As she spoke, she ruffled his hair and said gently: "But Coleman is hurt, so you must be a good boy and accept your punishment."

Obediently listening, Coleman felt his mother's warm palm, and his heart warmed up.

As long as Mother wasn't angry, it was fine.

"Okay, I will be a good boy and accept my punishment."

Nodding submissively, Coleman agreed obediently.

He was impossibly well-behaved.

"Wutong, take the Young Master away and bandage his wounds."

She issued the order indifferently, but her footsteps hurried outward, as if she were impatient, or perhaps burning with rage!

The butler Wutong bowed his head and replied: "Yes, My Lady. The Master has taken the captured prisoners to the dungeon, on the third basement level."

There was no reply; all that could be heard was the sound of high heels striking the floor.

Urgent and hurried.

Standing silently for a moment, Wutong waited until Kikyo had left before walking slowly toward the young master who was still standing in place.

He picked the child up with practiced ease.

"Mother isn't angry, right?"

The young master's aggrieved murmur reached his ears, but Wutong did not stop walking.

He said calmly: "Young Master Coleman, My Lady is angry."

"Mm..."

Was Mother still angry with him?

The grievance flowed out like a punctured water balloon.

With reddened eyes, Coleman did not know how to coax his angry mother.

"However, she is angry at those insects, not at you, Young Master."

Adding this slowly, Wutong did not stop his pace as he walked toward the infirmary.

"..."

"My Lady is angry that her treasure was allowed to be injured, so, in essence, it still has something to do with you."

Naturally black-bellied and fond of making harmless jokes.

Wutong was using his own way to comfort the little young master in his arms.

As a butler, he naturally had the obligation to figure out the habits of every master.

This naturally included the little young master, Coleman.

Although Wutong had not seen Coleman many times.

He could still sense this child's dependence on Kikyo—no, it should be his dependence on the creature known as 'mother'.

Unconditionally obedient, unconditionally submissive.

He might not even listen to the orders of his father, the head of the family.

Yet he was extremely compliant with his mother.

The word "mom" seemed to always hold a special meaning for this little young master.

If one day, Young Master Coleman were to go mad, like a rabid dog.

The only one who could stop him would be, and could only be, Kikyo.

His mother, one of his two sole faiths.

And the other, without a doubt, was the young master's older brother.

Illumi Zoldyck.

Someone who, despite his young age, could make many assassins wary of him.

Feeling quite sentimental, yet not revealing a shred of it.

Wutong continued walking.

Along the pitch-black corridor, walking toward that single light.

Twins.

Each is the other's chain.

And each holds the key to the other's freedom.

So-called fate, perhaps, is just that.