Chapter 2401 - 2396: The Prophet Is Dead (7)
Chapter 2401: Chapter 2396: The Prophet Is Dead (7)
As it turns out, the method was quite effective.
Although she appeared to be on her last breath after being relentlessly attacked by the Demigod, Catherine’s mind seemed to clear up a bit.
Plus, the therapy that involved revisiting familiar places to trigger memory recall even helped her remember her own name.
But it wasn’t enough—
"Very well, Catherine. So do you remember what you look like?"
Giving her another bit of encouragement, Fu Qian continued his patient guidance, helping her recollect more.
"I..."
This time, the voice seemed to originate from a higher place rather than the chest, as if a mouth was moving slowly upward.
Listening closely, one could almost imagine the appearance of a wandering mouth.
"I am Catherine... I work here..."
The process was clearly not easy. Catherine kept murmuring her name, and her voice grew painful, even verging on madness.
But this wasn’t a bad thing; at least pain and madness meant she seemed more human, didn’t they?
At that moment, Fu Qian noticed that her self-muttered voice no longer sounded quite as hoarse.
"The guests here are very... very annoying..."
At the end of her muttering, the voice suddenly sounded right next to his ear, as if someone was whispering—indeed, they were.
Fu Qian naturally turned his head toward his shoulder.
Because earlier, after catching a Meteor, his formal attire had ripped open a large section, and a thick black mass was slowly gathering at the exposed shoulder.
Emphasizing the word "annoying" twice was the voice of a mouth with white, bared teeth.
The head-like shape had only this feature, which was unsettling to behold. Fortunately, fluid quickly covered the teeth, sketching out more facial features.
Catherine, indeed, it was her.
Though Fu Qian didn’t like wasting memory on such matters, he easily recognized her as the alluring waitress who drew countless gazes.
As the features rapidly formed, her skin turned pale and delicate...
Red lips, black eyes, long hair—within mere breaths, a familiar face loomed close by.
Not an exaggeration because this head belonging to Catherine was perched on his shoulder.
...
Isn’t it true that sooner or later, one must pay for what they’ve done?
Once upon a time, Fu Qian had tried a similar idea, and now he found himself on the receiving end.
As their eyes met, the proximity was almost too close, prompting an instant reflection in Fu Qian about destiny.
Back then in the Sea of Ashes, when he promised Rachel to treat her friend Li Min, Li Min’s condition was so bad that he chose to keep only her head and attach it to Rachel’s shoulder.
And now, not long after, such a déjà vu scene resurfaced.
Of course, strictly speaking, there were still differences; Catherine, by comparison, retained a more independent state.
"Indeed, they are loathsome. In such places, how good the food is should always be the core," Catherine remarked as the fluid rapidly transformed from the head downward into a creature of flesh and blood.
Fu Qian nodded in agreement with Catherine’s statement.
During his first visit here, he personally witnessed the harassment she endured, even losing control potentially due to this.
Although Fu Qian’s dissatisfaction mainly stemmed from the repeated destruction of food, showing no respect for the chef’s labor.
"...I haven’t met you before."
Even with that sentiment validated, Catherine seemed surprised.
However, it was evident that the confusion in her eyes was dissipating quickly.
When she spoke again, she didn’t dwell on complaining about customers but instead directly addressed the current situation, her gaze firmly fixed on Fu Qian’s mask.
Clearly, Catherine was straining to recall, to the point where her newly formed features were almost menacing.
"No, you haven’t met me, but I have seen you."
Faced with such behavior, Fu Qian nodded again, remaining unsettlingly honest.
"So... were you saving me just now?"
Catherine’s voice had fully recovered, and even though she was speaking softly, the mature allure in her voice was unmistakable.
"Why?"
And without waiting for Fu Qian’s response, she seemed to have pieced together some vague memories and concluded this statement.
Additionally, it was clear she didn’t believe it was out of sheer goodwill.
"Because you are delicious."
Her suspicions, tinged with rising wariness, were immediately confirmed.
Fu Qian, with no intent to flatter himself, let out a string of villainous laughter, even using language befitting the current setting.
...
Delicious?
Unfortunately, even in a dining setting, such words directed at a stunning woman were unlikely to be understood purely as a culinary desire.
At that moment, Catherine’s rapidly recovering body almost couldn’t help but shiver.
Yet, perhaps due to severe blood loss, her not-yet-fully-recovered body remained still, unable to break free or create distance—only hesitatingly so.
Fu Qian found the true reason behind these reactions all too easy to understand.
Even having been on the brink of death, she was able to crawl onto him, so no matter how dire the situation, it shouldn’t have left her completely powerless.
Catherine simply didn’t dare.
Saving her because she seemed "delicious" might initially sound terrifying.
But once her rationality returned a bit, she’d realize this was actually a good thing.
In her eyes, this mysterious figure before her could easily drive away the Lord... If not attracted by the "deliciousness," and not acting out of kindness, then her fate would be truly unpredictable.
Rationally speaking, Catherine should fervently hope at this moment that her soft body, tightly pressed against the mysterious figure, would garner more appreciation.
"No rush, come out a little at a time."
Regrettably, it seemed that her earlier reflexive movements had already triggered some negative impression.
The voice from behind the mask was void of emotion, but its meaning was clear, suggesting she end this parasitic state.
"The clothes are already a bit torn; tearing further would affect the image."
The given reason was perfunctory, almost impossible to adequately critique.
Then, for a moment, Catherine lowered her head.
The opponent’s point wasn’t incorrect, but in contrast, she had not a stitch of clothing.
The only thing cloaking her slender body was the thin veil of the night.
However, such a covering hardly seemed effective against the being before her.
Hmm—
With a suppressed moan, Catherine’s fully-formed arm gathered strength, and following instructions, she slowly pulled herself out from the tear in the clothing, causing no further damage.