As the night carried on and it grew later, some nobles disappeared with the girls from Kanizales. It was needless to say what they planned to do. Many Kanizales performers would have an advantage if they had a wealthy nobleman as backing, so they did not refuse the temptations of the aristocrats. Perchance, if they were truly lucky, they could become a mistress. When Luciano also took off his hat, he was soon approached by the Armenian nobility.

“You have nice hair. Show me. Hm, and a beautiful face as well. What’s your name?”

“My name is Violeta. Aristocrats.”

“You have wonderful eyes. They are… Almost lilac but with gold in the centre.”

Following that, the idle flattery and pick-up lines from the noble continued. While listening half-heartedly, Luciano’s mind began to wander. This particular aristocrat was a person in a proper position of high status, judging from his clothes. Perhaps even, in the castle of Armenia, due to his important position, he was given a room. This was the perfect opportunity. Luciano, instead of brushing the noble off, placed his hands on the other man’s and purposely snuggled up to him.

“Violeta… You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

Luciano laughed at the foolish man, distorting his red lips. It was a bewitching smile; the nobleman was none the wiser that he was being used.

♔♔♔

On a large bed, a woman writhed, a thin layer of sweat shone on her skin. The squeaking noises were constantly audible, a rhythmic melody almost like the music from the party that same night. Luciano was holding a woman—because he had killed people. Both he and the woman were still dressed. He did not take off his clothes when he embraced women. Luciano, who was brought to the room by the aristocrat earlier, immediately took action after the door closed. He unravelled the string that had long silver hair and wrapped it around the neck of the nobleman. The nobleman had tried to cover his body and Luciano strangled him. It ended quickly. Then Luciano dragged the dead man down, put him under the bed, and stripped off the musician’s clothes. He didn’t have any lingering feelings of guilt. It was only natural for those of Armenia and Teges to die. He hated all of them. With his family dead, everything else was irrelevant.

Just as he finished putting on his makeup and his familiar black robe, two sharp knocks resounded and a woman in a gorgeous dress entered the room.

“Well, who are you? Perhaps you’re of the last name Earl Pavon?”

The woman seemed to be the lover of the nobleman he had killed. That is, the lover of Earl Pavon. Luciano quickly observed.

“Hmm, it’s a pretty beautiful family name. Were you embraced by the Earl?”

He didn’t try to answer her question. Aristocrats sought immoral pleasures, and many men and women were indiscriminately related. The woman seemed to take his silence for selfishness.

“… Hey, not only just men, have you ever been with a woman?”

After he killed a person, he gave off a terrific sex appeal. Even if the person did not ask for it, women would approach him like insects attracted to honey. This woman was no exception.

The woman nodded. “That’s good. Before that person comes, how about you play with me?”

Whilst she was talking, she tried to take off her dress, but he interrupted. “Keep it on.”

“It’s going to be wrinkled,” she complained. Even so, she didn’t resist.

“Please crawl on all fours.”

That was the position he f*cked women in.

“On all fours? Someone like me? Like a beggar?”

He looked down at the woman who obeyed despite her complaints.

-Dirty pig.

Originally, Luciano hated sexual activity so much so that he would feel nauseous. But only when he killed someone, he couldn’t help but dirty his own body too. That way, he would drown, drown, and dye his body and mind black—until there was nothing left.

The woman who was exposed to his sex appeal was already wet without any stimulation on his part. He never caressed a woman and did not touch them more than necessary.

Touching skin directly was also something he avoided. Even so, he grasped the other party’s waist and acted. Just like a beast intercourse, there was no love or emotion. This was merely to satisfy his physical needs.

A fresh feeling ran through his spine every time he thrusted. The rough texture of skin, brought about a horrifying sensation.

For him, sexual intercourse was a turnaround in the landfall of his homeland. That was why he could become more vicious and ruthless to others. Pleasure resulted in the death of the heart. For him, who had none, it helped him on his path to revenge. He was an empty body, living only on grudges.

Suddenly, he stopped like a thread that had been cut. He ignored the woman, who whined and begged for him to continue, and released her body.

As she fixed her clothes, the heavily breathing woman straightened her hair, saying.

“You are endless. Why? You’re not disturbed. You’re not sweating.”

“I can’t ejaculate. I can’t. It’s a useful body in some sense.”

“Well, it’s convenient. My name is Brisa. Marquis Matos is my husband. I’m very fond of you, particularly that beautiful face. Don’t you think it’s a good match?”

“Indeed, madam, apologies. I’ll be leaving soon.”