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墨書 Inktalez
Everyone settled back into their seats, and to my surprise, he moved to sit on my right, loudly urging me to make a wish quickly.
Being a person can be quite troublesome; even for a small birthday, I have to make a wish. They haven't learned any good things from the West but only brought back all sorts of nonsense...
Make a wish? What should I wish for?
Right now, all I could think about was wishing that annoying person would just drop dead. Thankfully, I didn't have to say my wish out loud in front of everyone...
I silently cursed him while maintaining a calm expression.
My lung capacity was decent enough; otherwise, how could I blow out the candles in one breath amidst everyone's birthday song?
After extinguishing the candles, I picked up a fruit knife to start cutting the cake. It was said that the first cut must be made by the birthday person themselves.
As I made the first cut, applause erupted. I quickly raised both hands and pretended to calm everyone down, as if I were about to give a speech—just then, a sudden thunderclap sounded outside, startling me so much that I dropped the knife on the floor.
Embarrassed, I stood there with my face burning red. I hurriedly bent down to pick up the knife while apologizing to everyone and quickly walked into the kitchen. After rinsing it off roughly, I thought better of it and replaced it with a new fruit knife before returning to continue cutting the cake. I didn’t forget to say some trivial things to cover up my earlier embarrassment.
I feigned calmness, though my voice trembled slightly. The first piece of cake I cut went onto the plate of the person I disliked most sitting on my right.
As I mentioned before, even though I hated him, I couldn't let anyone see it. I had to act generous and place the first piece of cake on his plate before serving piece after piece to my colleagues' plates, leaving the last piece for myself.
I suppressed my unwillingness and forced a smile.
In our department, there was an unwritten tradition that before anyone could eat the birthday cake, the "birthday star" had to sing their best song.
Sigh! There was truly no way out. I forced a smile and finished singing a song, feeling a sense of relief as I tossed aside the empty cake box amidst the applause and cheers from everyone.
The man beside me stood up, pretending to wipe the cream stains off the table with a napkin. As he wiped, he told jokes to everyone, and soon enough, laughter erupted around us. People were leaning this way and that, and I joined in, even though I knew my laughter was merely an act. My chuckles sounded somewhat stiff.
Suddenly, he remembered something and called over the young lady sitting to my left—his secretary—to help him go downstairs to buy some things. After whispering a few words to her, she left the room.
After a round of giggles, everyone began to enjoy the delicious cake.
My mood was truly poor, so nothing seemed appetizing to me, not even my own birthday cake. I stopped eating after just half of it; I had no desire to continue.
He appeared to have quite an appetite, finishing his portion and licking the plate clean while exclaiming, "Delicious! Delicious!" as if he had never tasted anything like it before. He satisfiedly licked his lips, a look of bliss on his face.
After a burst of laughter, silence fell like a heavy curtain. He stopped making any sound; he would never make another sound again. He collapsed with a thud onto the table, face down on the plate he had just cleaned.
As my colleagues hurriedly lifted him onto the bed, I silently told myself he was dead—he had been poisoned; I had poisoned him.
My eyes flickered while my lips involuntarily curled into a slight smile, my hands trembling slightly.
I had poisoned his cake; he had eaten it all without wasting a single bite. I hadn’t anticipated the poison would act so quickly. A sense of pride swelled within me, mingled with anxiety.
I coated my first fruit knife with poison. When I made the first cut, the toxin transferred onto the cake. Then I discarded that poisoned knife and switched to another one that was clean because I didn’t want everyone else to die alongside him.
Even if there hadn’t been thunder at that moment, I would have found another way to dispose of the poisoned knife—perhaps by pretending to be tipsy from too much drink. I feigned calmness while changing knives but couldn’t bring myself to meet anyone’s gaze.
The first piece naturally had to be given to him, and it must be given to him. The following pieces would no longer be poisoned, and I distributed them one by one to my colleagues. The last piece, however, was also poisoned, and that one could only be left for myself.
Of course, I could only eat half of it, and the reason for that was something only I knew.
I suppressed the unease within me as I handed out the cake, beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
I was taking a huge risk by doing this because it could easily be discovered. So first, I needed to dispose of the remaining half of the poisoned cake.
There were too many people gathered in this room; one careless move could reveal everything. As everyone was busy lifting him onto the bed, I quickly and discreetly threw the remaining half of the poisoned cake out of the window.
I was certain no one saw me do it because everyone was focused on him. It was pouring rain outside, and the toxic cake would soon be washed away by the relentless downpour, leaving not a trace behind.
The window had already been opened earlier, and the poisoned knife had been cleaned long before when I switched knives; that only took a moment.
Once I completed all of this, I let out a long sigh and tried hard to make my expression appear normal.
Alright, he was dead; I was sure of it—there was no way he could come back to life.
I began to feel elated; I had never felt this good before: I had finally gotten rid of him!
I wanted to laugh out loud, but I couldn’t—absolutely not… not yet… The muscles in my face twitched slightly as I struggled to suppress the joy bubbling inside me.
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