Affection maxed out

Zsasz talked on and on.

The girl's gradually dilating pupils, the blood spurting out again and again.

William began dissecting the corpse with this sickening "dessert" on the side.

To be honest, he had dissected well over a hundred bodies, but neither the cadavers provided by his school nor the victims in the morgue drawers had ever made him feel such intense discomfort.

It all came down to Zsasz, that damned psychopathic killer, running his mouth beside him.

A jar of formalin sat to his right. If he could, he would have loved to heft it up and smash it into the back of Zsasz's head.

"What's your name?"

"William. William Hans."

"You're doing a fine job. Very skilled."

As William held the bloody liver, washed it clean, and coated it with an antioxidant protective solution, Zsasz couldn't help praising him.

"I'm curious. You have an unusual fondness for corpses, so when you see them, do you ever... uh... this might be a little presumptuous, but do you get physically aroused?"

William stopped working and turned to look at Zsasz.

He had no idea how to answer this freak's question, but the bubble beside Zsasz supplied the answer.

(If this kid has any improper thoughts about Lina, should I slit his throat right now, or wait until he finishes the job...)

"No, never. I see them as works of art, and every work of art deserves respect."

The moment the words left his mouth, William noticed Zsasz's affection drop.

"But right now, I'm simply working for you. Work calls for a professional attitude."

"You haven't been admiring her?"

"Of course not. This is your private collection. I'll respect those boundaries."

"I admire your professionalism."

Zsasz smiled and clapped. As the heart-shaped bubble filled up, he simply tucked the pistol back into his waistband.

"I'll get us something to eat. Do you prefer sweet or savory?"

Fifteen minutes later, with the work finished, William appeared beside the dining table.

Zsasz poured him a cup of coffee.

"The sugar cubes are in the jar on your left."

William nodded, his gaze drifting with apparent nonchalance over the knife and fork beside the cake.

He considered it for a few seconds, then rejected that aggressive approach.

From the moment Zsasz took him hostage, he had noticed the man's astonishing strength. Using force wasn't a smart choice.

But William didn't believe Zsasz would let him go, either. The murdered girl in his story was proof enough. Never trust a cruel, bloodthirsty psychopath.

"Where do you usually dismember bodies?" Zsasz cut off a piece of cake and put it in his mouth.

"The police morgue. I choose unclaimed bodies that have already been autopsied. They're headed for the incinerator anyway."

William had anticipated this question, and his answer came smoothly.

Of course, he couldn't answer every question so easily, but with the affection system's help, his responses always managed to appeal to Zsasz's peculiar tastes.

"Thank the gods. Praise death. You make me feel I'm not alone."

Zsasz fiddled with his cutlery, a sickly flush spreading across his ashen face.

What the hell are you blushing for?!

A wave of revulsion washed over William, but he still had to force himself to smile.

What truly chilled him to the bone, though, was what was going on inside Zsasz's head.

(I should have let him go, but I've changed my mind. William is my best friend. I'll keep him by my side forever, just like Lina. But for the sake of our noble friendship, there must be no pain in the process.)

Zsasz grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"Shall I pour you another cup of coffee?"

"No need..."

Before William could refuse, the man stood up.

Looking past Zsasz's underarm, he saw a small pill dropped into the burbling coffeepot.

This freak wants to poison me.

When Zsasz turned around, William hastily looked away, drew a deep breath, and put on a smile.

Brown coffee poured into the cup.

"Drink up. I'll see you out afterward."

William certainly didn't dare drink it, but failing to pick up the cup would inevitably arouse suspicion.

He slowly lifted the cup with a deep frown, his gaze settling again on the bullet wound in Zsasz's leg.

"You're bleeding. Let me stitch up your wound."

He had expected Zsasz to use the opportunity to probe him further, but Zsasz merely nodded and lay down on the sofa with an easy expression.

Was this the advantage of high affection?

"You're excellent with a knife. I trust you completely. In fact, there's still a bullet in my leg. There's a medical kit in the sideboard's second compartment, with forceps and a needle-and-thread kit inside."

William forced himself to remain calm as he approached the sideboard, watching Zsasz's reflection in the glass.

The instant he turned away, Zsasz's smile vanished. He raised his hand and aimed the gun at William.

Even with his affection maxed out, this psychopathic killer had never let down his guard.

Stay calm. You can do this.

William silently repeated the words to bolster his courage.

He opened the sideboard and took the surgical instruments out of the medical kit.

His gaze landed on several small vials with brown paper labels.

Atracurium besylate (muscle relaxant, atracurium)

Lidocaine (local anesthetic, lidocaine)

This was his hope.

William had to thank himself for paying attention in pharmacology class back then and remembering the names of these drugs.

The question now was which one to choose.

The former could kill Zsasz outright, but required an intravenous injection and took time to work.

The latter worked quickly, but might not incapacitate him completely.

After a brief hesitation, he picked up a vial of the local anesthetic lidocaine.

He moved his left hand out of sight behind his body, leaving Zsasz a clear view of his right hand unpacking the suture kit.

Meanwhile, his left hand, hidden in shadow, took a small syringe. He hooked his little finger around the vial to hold it steady, then slowly worked the plunger with his trembling thumb.

"You're taking a little too long to get ready," Zsasz reminded him.

"Sorry. This is my first time using these things."

William called out the excuse, glancing ahead from the corner of his eye, only to discover another figure in the glass!

Zsasz had approached without a sound. Only two paces separated them.

William could even feel his breath against the back of his neck.

The good news was that the syringe was filled. The bad news was that he had no time to put the vial back.

William had no choice but to take a gamble. With a flick of his wrist, he hid the syringe in his sleeve. At the same time, pretending he hadn't noticed Zsasz, he reached toward the vial rack with the hand holding the local anesthetic.

He discreetly returned the local anesthetic, then made a show of picking up a vial of muscle relaxant.

As he turned around, he pretended Zsasz had startled him.

"Whoa! When did you get behind me?"

Zsasz said nothing and snatched the vial from him.

He slowly ran a fingertip across the rubber stopper, then held it under his nose and sniffed. Once he was certain there were no needle holes or signs it had been opened, his expression relaxed considerably.

"Muscle relaxant. This isn't something you should be touching."

A few minutes later, Zsasz lay on the sofa with his injured leg raised.

William swabbed the wound with alcohol-soaked cotton. To vent his anger, he secretly squeezed a few drops of alcohol into the bullet hole.

When William cut into the flesh around the wound, Zsasz trembled and gripped the sofa's leather upholstery with both hands.

"This is a little embarrassing, but getting a bullet removed hurts too much. I think I need some anesthetic..."

Zsasz tried to get up, but William pressed him back down.

"No need. I've already given you some."

Under Zsasz's bewildered gaze, William stood up and discarded the needle in his hand.