Chapter 60 Twisted Sense of Justice

Chapter 60: 60 - Twisted Sense of Justice

(Yaya’s POV)

The worn scarf wrapped around Noodle’s lower face hid most of his features, leaving only his eyes visible. Their unyielding gaze held an odd contradiction: the shy flutter of lashes that suggested he’d rather be anywhere else, yet beneath that, was a chilling pledge to drag me down with him if he fell.

Every inch of his posture screamed discomfort, yet he held his ground like a mountain refusing to be moved by the wind. As if I was that wind, strong enough to rattle his bones, but not strong enough to uproot him.

My head tilted, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of my lips before I could stop it. "And what consequences are those, I wonder?"

A soft tint of pink spread across his nose when he saw my smile. He immediately pushed up his scarf to hide more of his face. "You are a criminal, and you will be judged like one. That’s all."

Criminal, huh? The term didn’t bother me as much as the way he said it. ’You stole my heart. You messed up my life.’ I almost heard him add it, but maybe I was just imagining things.

I tilted my head further and leaned in, studying the stubborn set of his shoulders, the slight tremble in his hands. "You have a very twisted sense of justice, Nugget."

"My name is Moyu." He corrected me with a bite to his tone.

"What is its meaning?"

"It means ’dream big and aim high’," he explained. He was proud of his heritage, unlike Noodle.

Moyu. You failed to live up to your name, didn’t you? I kept the words to myself, no longer interested in continuing this charade. What was the point of arguing with someone as stubborn as me? What was this? A battle of wills? A test of who could be more unreasonable?

It was one thing to annoy others, but quite another to be annoyed in return.

I sat back down. The fight had left me, and all that remained was the dread pooling in my stomach.

"Mate," Noodle called me. His beast voice was deep, fitting for his massive size. "Do you want me dead again?"

I flicked his body before I began to treat his wounds. "Didn’t you want to become stronger? Consider that a training exercise, to sharpen your combat skills."

I found myself saying words that old man would have said to me: ’Yang Yali, life is a training ground. Every challenge is a lesson. Take them as opportunities to grow stronger,’ right before spectacularly throwing me to the wolves to see if I’d survive. I hated that man. And I hated myself for becoming a shadow of him.

"Fine, mate, but warn me next time before you use me to practice," Noodle accepted my excuse. "I almost lost control to ancestors again."

"More reason to work on your self-control." I crushed a primal core between my fingers and mixed its contents with the water from the spikehog’s core. I then smeared the paste on Noodle’s cuts and covered them with a clean leaf.

Passing by the vines hanging from the trees, I pulled on them, making them shake. Droplets of rain fell on my face, washing away the bitter taste of my thoughts. I used them to keep the leaves in place, giving one end to the gasum, and making it dive into the water.

The gasum appeared on the other side of Noodle, jumping up to catch the treat in my hand. I grabbed the vine and tied it around Noodle’s body.

The mood in our group was as heavy as the fog surrounding us. I endangered them again, after all, and this time, I might have lost my chance to get rid of Moyu. His stupid bravery made Dickhead trust him more.

They were all after my sanity, trying to make me lose it. I was sure. Dickhead was the mastermind behind this. If he couldn’t drug me into compliance, he would find another way to make me obey.

I looked at him, who was sitting behind me, his eyes closed, and his face relaxed. He didn’t even need to do anything to annoy me. My imagination did all the work for him.

He must have felt my gaze, as he opened one eye. "You are thinking about me, Precious. I’m flattered."

Profanities were too weak for this situation. I wished I had a bucket full of shit to dunk his head in, a whole truckload, in fact. The shit that had been marinating for weeks, with extra maggots, worms, and flies buzzing around it. And then I would set it on fire.

No, that was too merciful. I would tie him to a chair and make him eat it, spoon by spoon, until he choked on it. Or maybe I would force-feed it to him through a tube, directly into his stomach. Make the maggots eat him from the inside.

"She is not calming down," Moyu observed from a nearby branch. He didn’t want to add more load to Noodle, and had been jumping from tree to tree, keeping an eye on us from above. "In fact, she looks worse."

"Mate must be hungry," Noodle concluded. "What do you want to eat, mate? I will hunt for you."

"I want to eat Dickhead’s head," I pointed at the culprit with my thumb over my shoulder. "Roasted, with a side of diced Nugget."

Noodle, bless his simple mind, took my words as a joke at the worst possible moment, and chuckled. "Mate is funny."

The two other idiots joined him, laughing at my expense. Even the gasums jumped around like it was the funniest thing they had heard. I had lost control of this situation, and they were making fun of me.

I raised my head to the skies, which were beginning to clear up, and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow them all. Or me, either way worked.