NOVPUB“It’s... clean now.”
“Huh? Oh, oh... Thank you.”
“Wait, with saliva.”
Snowy placed her finger in her mouth, then smeared the saliva inside my nostrils.
I quickly turned my face away, rubbing my mouth with my hand to wipe away Snowy’s saliva that had spread around my lips. But the nosebleed had already stopped.
How strange. This time, the nosebleed stopped without me even tilting my head back... Does Snowy’s saliva have healing properties like Kan Tsukiyo’s?
When I looked at her again, Snowy was wiping the blood off her hand onto her clothes. No matter how much she rubbed, it wouldn’t come off. She wiped her face again, only to end up smearing blood across her cheek.
She looked like a little kitten with a dirty face, undeniably adorable.
I reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing away the bloodstains with my thumb.
Come to think of it, the last time I saw her at the park, her face had bloodstains just like this.
She had just killed someone, her entire body radiating a murderous aura. Her pupils had turned blood-red, and her hair was completely white — a stark contrast to her current demeanor.
Which one is the real Snowy?
Could she be like Lillian Ji, having a split personality?
Or is that her true nature...?
Perhaps I need to get to know her more deeply to truly understand who she really is.
But before that, I must atone for what I did.
“Snowy, I...”
“Mm.”
She responded with a soft hum, indicating she was listening. After taking a deep breath to steady my mind, I continued.
“I did something bad to you. I won’t make excuses for my behavior... Just tell me how you want me to make it up to you. Whatever it is, I’ll do it without any conditions!”
Snowy tilted her head, her expression confused as she asked, “Bad... things?”
“Uh... well... that is...”
Saying it out loud was more humiliating than I imagined. It felt like being in elementary school, standing before the homeroom teacher and confessing to a mistake.
Speaking of which, our current homeroom teacher, Ms. Jane, is even more childlike than Snowy. Yet, even when I made mistakes in front of Ms. Jane, I never felt this embarrassed.
Is it because I’ve always treated Ms. Jane so casually? I guess feelings of guilt really do have something to do with a person’s appearance and stature...
Ah, no. My thoughts are drifting again. Focus. Stay in reality.
I’d been taught since childhood to take responsibility for my mistakes. Now, I must do just that.
Suppressing the wave of shame, I placed my hands on Snowy’s shoulders and, in a desperate burst of courage, shouted:
“I wiped your body!”
“Mm, I know.”
“Oh, oh... ah?! You know?!”
“Mm.”
A faint blush spread across Snowy’s cheeks as she placed her hand over mine, still resting on her shoulder.
“Uh-uh-uh-uh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
I dropped to my knees in front of her with a thud, pressing my palms together in a frantic prayer-like gesture, repeating the words “I’m sorry” over and over.
If kneeling could solve everything, then what’s the point of rules? Repeated apologies are worthless. Pay the price. You’ve tarnished my purity, so what will you offer as compensation? How about... severing your hands and handing them over to me?
It was as if I could hear such accusatory words.
But in reality, Snowy hadn’t said a single word. She wouldn’t use such aggressive language, nor would she speak so much at once.
It was my own guilt, my conscience manifesting Snowy’s imagined rebuke.
Because that was the only way I could force myself to make amends.
After taking a deep, heavy bow, I remained kneeling, head lowered.
There was no response.
But I had already resolved not to move until she responded, so I kept kneeling.
Even though I couldn’t see her, I could hear Snowy’s breathing growing slightly more rapid... Was she hesitating?
After a long silence, Snowy finally answered.
She cupped my cheeks in her hands and leaned close, her breath brushing against my ear as she whispered.
Three sets of three words each, soft and gentle, drifted into my ear.
“It’s okay.”
“Not angry.”
“Forgive you.”
Don’t give me such a response...
I abruptly raised my head, gripping Snowy’s shoulders as I said, “No! I have to make it up to you! Tell me what you want! Anything! Otherwise, I’ll get carried away again!”
“Then...”
“Mm-hmm!”
I swallowed nervously, bracing myself for whatever demand she might make.
“Hair.”
“Huh? You want my hair? No, wait — just my hair? Don’t you want something else?”
A lock of hair seemed like too small a price. It wasn’t enough to ease my guilty conscience.
“Then... I also want...”
“Oh, oh! What else? I swear I’ll grant your request... Well, I’ll do my best to grant it!”
I changed my wording mid-sentence because I suddenly realized that Snowy might actually be a dismemberment killer. If she asked for my life, would I resist or comply?
I don’t want to die just yet, so I couldn’t make absolute promises.
“Nails.”
“A stand?”
A what?
“No, nails.”
Snowy held up her fingers, showing me her delicate, white nails. Only then did I understand what she meant.
Then, she grabbed my hand, rubbing her fingertip against the nail of my left thumb.
“I’ll cut them for you.”
Her tone carried a hint of excitement, more intense than usual.
“Oh... okay...”
Cut my nails? Is that all she wants?
Just as I was feeling puzzled, Snowy held my hand and led me out of the bedroom, towards the bathroom.
“Ethan, help me get it.”
“Huh? Oh, oh...”
“So, you want me to get those two knives hanging from the clothesline...”
Should I really hand such dangerous weapons over to her?
...No, it doesn’t matter! Right now, I have to do whatever she asks of me!
Snowy pulled out the shorter dagger and spoke to me.
“Give me your hand.”
“Uh... oh, okay!”
She’s going to use that to cut my nails?!
I extended my right hand, trembling. Without even stabilizing my hand, Snowy immediately started swinging the blade.
As she fixed her gaze on me, my entire body went rigid, my hands frozen midair as if nailed in place.
One slash.
There was no second slash. In a single, precise motion, Snowy had already trimmed the nail on my right thumb, catching the trimmed piece with her other hand.
I had just witnessed what it truly meant for a blade to dance.
She repeated the process for each finger, ten perfect strikes, ten perfect cuts.
This feeling... It’s just like last time, when she swiped that blade past my face. Back then, was she using this very knife to trim my eyebrows?
Her knife skills are so precise that even a circus performer would bow their head in shame.
Snowy, seemingly content, sheathed the blade and then, holding the collected fingernails, dashed out of the bathroom.
I stood there in a daze, watching her retreating figure. Only after she ran off did I call after her.
“Hey! Snowy! Where are you going?”
I started to chase after her but stopped when something caught my attention.
Wait a minute — what about the bathwater?
I clearly remember rushing out of the bathroom yesterday while carrying Snowy, completely forgetting to drain the water.
But now, the water was gone.
Now that I think about it... Snowy said she didn’t know how to use the water heater. So why was it plugged in and running?
Could it be... a ghost?
No, no. Don’t think about unscientific things right now.
Even though Snowy said she lives alone, maybe there are others living here. After all, there were rooms on the second floor whose doorknobs were clean, without a speck of dust. I haven’t checked those rooms yet.
With that thought, I stepped out of the bathroom and made my way to the second floor.
Snowy seemed to be in her room, so I decided to check the other rooms instead.
There were three rooms besides Snowy’s bedroom with clean doorknobs.
Regardless of the dust, I decided to open each and every door to confirm.
First, I headed to the room next to Snowy’s bedroom and pressed down on the handle to open the door.
It appeared to be a study. Judging by how Snowy is always holding a book, it makes sense that she would have quite a collection here.
I didn’t step inside but continued on to the next room.
The next room was like a private theater. A massive screen hung against one wall, a high-quality sofa sat in the middle, and the coffee table was loaded with fruits, snacks, and 3D glasses. Under the screen were several of the latest gaming consoles, and the cabinet in the corner was packed with discs — likely a mix of movies and games.
An entertainment room, a place for watching movies or playing games.
Looking at all this high-end equipment, I couldn’t help but feel envious. A lot of shut-ins would probably dream of having a room like this. It almost made me want to try playing Monster H on that massive screen. The sense of immersion would probably be insane.
No, no. Now isn’t the time to play games. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I left the entertainment room and continued to the other rooms.
I opened the doors to the rooms with dusty handles and took a quick look inside — all empty.
It seems only the rooms currently in use are kept clean.
That means the last room must be where that mysterious resident is staying, right?
I walked into the last room, but I [N O V E L I G H T] couldn’t immediately figure out its purpose. From the atmosphere alone, it felt like a storage room — there were no windows.
My lips twitched involuntarily. This meant... Snowy really was living here alone!
There’s really no one else? Then who the hell drained the bathwater?!
Could it really have been a ghost?!
As if to confirm my suspicions, a chill wind blew through the room, making me shiver uncontrollably.
Now that I think about it, I had lent my jacket to Kan Tsukiyo, and Snowy was wearing my shirt, so my upper body was practically bare.
Ugh, so cold... n𝚘vp𝚞𝚋.com
Rubbing my arms and shoulders vigorously, I hunched over and stepped further into the storage room to see what was actually being stored here.
I started with the bookshelf to my right.
The shelf was divided into two sections — the upper layer was lined with square glass jars, and the lower layer held round glass jars.
What are those...?
Once I saw what they contained, my scalp went numb, and I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.
Because... those things were —
Nails.
Nails, neatly arranged in the square jars, each with a label bearing a date and a name. These weren’t nails clipped with a nail clipper; they were entire nail plates — ten full nails in each jar.
The nails were stacked like bricks, perfectly aligned.
Some nails had already yellowed, others were still white, and some were smeared with blood, as if they had just been ripped straight off someone’s fingers.
I lowered my gaze to the bottom layer. The round glass jars contained —
Eyeballs.
Eyeballs suspended in yellowish formalin. Each jar contained a single eyeball, all of them staring upward at the same angle.
Even though they were just eyes, I felt as though dozens of unseen gazes were fixed on me...
No, they were all staring at something on the other side of the room...
I turned to follow their gaze.
There was a large cabinet against the opposite wall. I opened it to find dozens of small boxes, each about the size of a smartphone case, each labeled just like the jars.
A dreadful sense of foreboding swelled within me, but I couldn’t stop myself from pulling one of the boxes out. I opened it.
Inside the box were fingers.
Arranged neatly in order, from thumb to pinky. Each finger was severed cleanly at the base, and none of them had nails.
Each finger was perfectly straight, all pointing in the same direction.
Following the direction the fingers pointed —
I found them. Severed hands.
A cold chill ran down my spine.
This room was like a grotesque exhibition, a twisted gallery showcasing human body parts, meticulously organized and displayed.
What kind of deranged mind could do something like this?!
This was... inhuman!
Could it all be... Snowy’s doing?
My mind spun, and I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff, swaying back and forth as the words “No way!” and “Impossible!” echoed in my head.
But the undeniable evidence was laid out right in front of me. No matter how I tried to explain it away, the truth stood there, glaring back at me.
Damn it!
Snowy... how could she...?!
“Ethan...?”
A voice came from behind me. A voice that had suddenly become both familiar and terrifyingly foreign.
My heart plummeted to the depths.
