Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
James lay half-reclined on the cold hospital bed, the white gown clinging to his muscular chest, revealing the thick bandages wrapped around his back. The bandages were soaked with reddish-brown stains, exuding a faint medicinal smell mixed with the scent of blood that lingered in the air. His wounds appeared gruesome, deep gashes as if mercilessly sliced open by a sharp blade, exposing charred and damaged flesh. Yet, this broken appearance did not reflect the pain one would expect; James's expression remained calm and composed, his gaze deep and unfathomable, as if the torment that would be unbearable for an ordinary person was nothing more than a trivial matter to him.
The room was dimly lit, with only the overhead fluorescent light casting a weak white glow over a group of professors gathered around his bedside. Each held a teacup or crossed their arms, their faces betraying a mix of tension and anticipation as they focused intently on the television screen beside the bed. The screen broadcasted live scenes from outside the courthouse, where an oppressive and grim atmosphere prevailed. In the footage, two uniformed officers roughly escorted William out of the courthouse doors, his hands shackled behind him, appearing more hunched than ever, his gray-white hair disheveled, and his eyes hollow and powerless. The confident face that once commanded attention in meetings now looked frail and aged, as if time had suddenly consumed him.
"Damn fool, he really brought this upon himself," one professor whispered with a smirk of derision. The others chuckled in agreement, each wearing expressions of disdain and satisfaction. For them, this was not merely William's downfall; it was a delightful liberation. The professors exchanged hushed conversations punctuated by soft laughter, discussing the potential consequences of William's fall from grace as if the once-mighty Department Chair had finally been dethroned and become fodder for their gossip.
As the judge's gavel struck down in the footage announcing the verdict, William's face turned ashen, his body collapsing limply into the arms of the officers as if he had suddenly lost all strength. The professors could no longer contain their joy, exchanging triumphant glances as if this moment marked not just William's punishment but their collective victory. Someone quietly muttered "serves him right," prompting a ripple of suppressed laughter among them; several had already begun plotting how to welcome the impending "new order."
Amidst this crowd, only James sat quietly, his cold eyes fixed unwaveringly on the television screen, his face betraying no emotion. He listened to the professors' laughter and whispers, occasionally nodding slightly as if to acknowledge their sentiments while his gaze revealed a hint of deep-seated coldness. He had long known how this would unfold; he had set this game in motion months ago. Every move was calculated like pieces on a chessboard, forcing William into a corner with no escape. He cared not for William's struggles or how that man would ultimately plead or despair; his only concern was one thing—removing any obstacle that stood in his way.
James felt the power coursing through him from the Blood Moon, flowing slowly around his wounds like a silent stream in the dark night—powerful yet unnoticed. This force allowed his body to heal rapidly; even those small cracks could mend within days. He understood well that this power came at a cost—a deeper and darker price—but he feared nothing. As long as he could attain greater power or even immortality, any price was worth paying. He thought of William's defeated face; pleasure surged within him like a tide, almost prompting a low laugh that he stifled. For those who stood against him, this was merely the beginning. They would fall one by one into destruction under his control.
He lifted his head slightly to gaze at the celebrating professors, a glimmer of secret mockery flashing in his eyes. These people believed they had won; in truth, they were just another piece on his chessboard. He slowly closed his eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips while inside he laughed wildly—unrestrained and utterly triumphant. All the schemes, all the lies, all the plots had finally rendered William into something unrecognizable. This was his victory—a script written for him alone—while others could strive endlessly but would never glimpse the darkness within his heart.
A month later, autumn sunlight flooded the campus as a gentle breeze brought a hint of chill. Following medical examinations and evaluations, James was finally cleared for discharge. That day, the entire school celebrated as if it were a grand festival, meticulously arranging an elaborate welcome ceremony for him. Outside the auditorium, a red carpet stretched from the entrance down to the steps; colorful flags fluttered in the wind while balloons adorned every corner—the campus was awash in festive cheer. News of the welcome ceremony had spread throughout campus; faculty members and students alike eagerly anticipated witnessing this moment when their so-called "hero" returned.
Inside the auditorium, hundreds filled every seat with eager anticipation. When the doors slowly opened and James strode in confidently wearing a tailored dark suit that accentuated his stature perfectly, he radiated vitality. His posture was straight; every movement exuded authority as if those severe injuries were merely an inconsequential chapter in his life story. His steps were steady and composed as he scanned each face in attendance. He could feel their intense gazes—professors, students, even high-ranking university officials—all mixed with respect and admiration.
The principal stood at center stage with a broad smile extending both arms to welcome James while flanked by the Dean of Students and other Department Chairs—all wearing grinning faces rushing forward to shake hands with him. As he ascended the steps to the stage, thunderous applause erupted throughout the auditorium; cheers rang out so fervently that they almost hurt one's ears—applause continued for two full minutes before gradually subsiding. Standing on stage, James raised both hands gently to calm everyone down before silence fell over them once more. His face bore an appropriately modest smile while his gaze remained warm yet profound; however, that smile appeared meticulously crafted without revealing any genuine emotional fluctuation.
"Welcome back, Professor James!" boomed the principal’s voice filled with enthusiasm echoing through the hall. "Your recovery is tremendous news for all of us! We gather here today to celebrate your safe return and express our heartfelt gratitude for your contributions!"
At these words, applause and cheers erupted once more within the auditorium. A few young students leaped up in excitement waving ribbons and banners proclaiming phrases like "Hero Returns" and "Thank You Professor James for Your Resilience," boldly written in large letters meant to showcase their admiration to anyone who might see it. James lowered his head slightly feigning humility while inwardly scoffing at these youthful faces—merely puppets easily manipulated by him. He reveled in this tidal wave of applause and adulation as if he had triumphed over an invisible adversary reclaiming everything he had lost.
He knew clearly that this grand ceremony was far more than a simple welcome. His return symbolized William's downfall, signifying that his former rivals could no longer pose a threat to him. The Department Chair, professors, and even the higher-ups of the school all flocked to him, eager to share in the glory of this academic star. James understood that his reputation had reached a new pinnacle; it was not only a testament to his scholarly achievements but also a victory in a game of power.
Standing at the center of the stage, he surveyed the crowd, his gaze sweeping over those familiar faces. He could sense their admiration and flattery, filling him with an indescribable thrill. Those who had once doubted and opposed him now stood below, smiling broadly as they applauded his "triumphant" return. A subtle smile crept onto his lips, revealing a hidden confidence in his own power and a mocking disdain for their ignorance.
"Thank you all for your support," James said as he took the microphone, his voice deep and steady, each word clear and powerful. "It is a great honor for me to return to this campus and continue exploring the unknown alongside all of you. The past is now history, and together we will create the future." His words elicited another round of enthusiastic applause, the atmosphere in the auditorium reaching its peak.
James reveled in this enthusiasm, enjoying the attention of the crowd. He knew that behind this acclaim lay a web he had painstakingly woven—lies and schemes intertwined, ultimately elevating him to this unassailable position. This time, he would not allow anyone the opportunity to pull him down again.
Comment 0 Comment Count