Cioccolata Toccata

Christopher stood in some unknown corner.

He held the heavy book in his hands. Its pages turned of their own accord, rustling one after another without a breeze, every page densely covered in words.

Some had already happened, some were happening, and some were about to happen.

His usual gentle smile rested on his lips, as though he were reading a wonderful novel.

In fact, to him, that was exactly what it was.

"Things have gone more smoothly than I expected." He turned to the page recording Kexi's movements that day.

His smile deepened. "Just as I thought, everyone has something they can't resist, something they love deeply. That's what makes it interesting."

He closed the book and raised his eyes beneath the mask, looking north toward the lights of Ragunna City.

"Then it's time to bring this drama to its finale."

"Let me tailor a role just for him."

He opened the book again and turned to a blank page.

With a gentle beckoning gesture of his other hand, a quill appeared out of thin air and hovered over the paper.

He softly spoke a name.

"Danika."

Line after line of text materialized on the page, tracing the outline of a slender figure before filling it in with color.

Long pink hair, the lace trim of a dress, little patent-leather shoes.

A girl slowly rose from the page, blurry at first, then growing clearer and more real.

Her eyes were closed, her long lashes casting faint shadows in the moonlight.

Her long pink hair fell to her waist, curling slightly at the ends, while the skirt of her dress fluttered gently in the wind.

Christopher's quill continued to move across the page, and he spoke as he wrote.

"Danika, you are Kexi's betrothed, promised to him before you were born.

You have loved him deeply since childhood.

After he disappeared, your love became twisted.

You will turn everyone you love, and everyone who loves you, into rag dolls, so they can stay by your side forever.

Anyone who dares stand in your way should not exist.

You will grant them death.

Especially the one who took your beloved away.

You will make him watch her die with his own eyes.

Make his love return to you.

Make him into a rag doll so he will stay by your side forever."

He wrote the last word and set a final period on the page with his quill.

Then he raised his head and examined the work he had just finished, his lips curving in satisfaction.

"All right, go. Go where you're supposed to appear."

With a turn of his wrist, countless chains of dark red text poured from the pages and wrapped around Danika's entire body.

Her figure grew fainter and more transparent within the chains, until she turned into a wisp of pink mist and was drawn back into the pages.

The pages rustled as they turned, swallowing her deep within the paper.

Christopher closed the book and clasped his hands behind his back.

His voice held a trace of anticipation he could hardly contain.

"I can hardly wait. Danika will destroy everyone he holds dear, and he'll fly into a hysterical, impotent rage."

He pictured the scene.

Kexi would be kneeling on the ground, holding someone cold and no longer breathing in his arms. What expression would be on his face? Anger? Despair? A complete breakdown? Or all three?

Whatever his expression, it would surely be far more entertaining than the giggling pervert's face he had worn before.

At the thought, he couldn't help laughing aloud.

"Kekeke."

"Huh? Why am I laughing like that?"

He reached up and tapped his mask twice. "The way that laugh is written... in my scripts, that kind of laugh usually belongs to the villain.

Am I the villain? No, I'm the creator. How could the creator be the villain?

I'm only completing a work.

Artists aren't divided into good and evil, only good and bad.

My work is good, so I-"

"Christopher!"

A voice came from behind him, clear and sharp, carrying undisguised anger and killing intent.

He turned around and saw a sight that made him raise an eyebrow.

Cioccolata held a short gun glowing with green fluorescence.

Her clothes were speckled with blood, and something had cut a gash in her sleeve, exposing the bandaged wrist beneath.

Her eyes were red, and two dried tear tracks marked her face, but her gaze was bright.

Christopher tilted his head and studied her.

He opened the book in his hands, quickly flipped through a few pages, and let out a soft sigh of realization.

"Oh-it's Miss Cioccolata. I didn't expect you to break free of my control. Let me see how you did it."

His fingertip stopped on a page, and he lowered his head to read a few lines carefully.

Then he looked up, the expression beneath his mask growing even more intrigued.

"You killed them all? Miss Cioccolata, I must say, you certainly have resolve."

Cioccolata's fingers tightened slightly around her gun.

Her voice was hoarse and calm, as though she were stating a fact that had nothing to do with her.

"It was nothing more than a false world."

"Is that so?"

Christopher closed the book, tucked it under his arm, and leaned forward slightly.

"But you've always longed for your parents' care and your family's company, haven't you?"

He watched Cioccolata's lashes tremble slightly, and his smile deepened.

"If you had just pretended you didn't know anything, they could have stayed with you forever. Wouldn't that have been nice?"

Cioccolata was silent for a long time before she spoke.

"...The Toccata Family ceased to exist long ago."

She raised her eyes and looked Christopher straight in the face, her hand no longer trembling around the gun.

"What they wanted wasn't a Cioccolata living in the past, but a Cioccolata who could carry on their will, spread the truth in song, and press forward with all her strength."

Christopher was silent for a moment.

Then he nodded gently.

"Your will is truly remarkable, Miss Cioccolata. The young master of the Montelli family is nowhere near your equal."

Cioccolata froze.

"What happened to him?" She realized her voice sounded more urgent than she had expected.

Christopher lowered his head and idly leafed through the book, as though consulting an inconsequential note.

He turned to a page and tapped it twice with his fingertip. Then he closed the book and looked up at Cioccolata, his lips curving in a way that sent chills down the spine.

"Him? He should be dying soon."

The color drained from Cioccolata's face in an instant.

"What did you say?!"

"Miss Cioccolata, you might consider looking for him in Ragunna City to the north."

Christopher tucked the book under his arm and raised a hand to straighten his mask. "If you hurry, you might be able to save him," he said lightly.

"Stop!"

Cioccolata's finger closed on the trigger, and green fluorescent light burst from the gun, tracing a dazzling arc through the night.

The gunshot was sharp and brief, and the bullet sped straight for Christopher's chest, carrying all her anger and fear.

A dark red magic circle appeared beneath Christopher's feet. Light poured from its markings, forming a translucent red shield around him.

The moment the bullet struck the shield, it was like a pebble sinking into a deep pool, without raising a single ripple.

Christopher stood inside the shield, tilting his head as he looked at Cioccolata's face, twisted with anger and despair.

His figure grew fainter and blurrier in the light of the magic circle.

"Miss Cioccolata, hurry along. If you're too slow, all you'll see is his corpse. Although a corpse also makes excellent material for a drama-"

His voice grew more distant, more hollow.

Cioccolata glanced down at the gun, which had already cooled, then raised her head and fixed her gaze on the city to the north, sleeping beneath the night sky.

"Kexi, please don't let anything happen to you."