The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 133: Quicksilver

“Heart extraction...”

Celicia stared at the gaping hole in the corpse’s chest, her expression growing even darker.

“That’s the direct cause of death?”

“Probably, but we can’t be a hundred percent certain.”

The balding middle-aged man answered:

“We conducted a rough examination of the body. Aside from the hole in the chest, there were no other visible wounds, so our preliminary conclusion is that the heart was forcefully removed. However, since the body hasn’t undergone a detailed autopsy yet, we can’t rule out the possibility of poisoning or a curse being the actual cause.”

“There are plenty of thods to kill without leaving wounds. That’s not what we should be fixated on. What I want to know is how the heart was extracted.”

Celicia slipped on gloves and gently lifted the shredded fabric of the corpse’s uniform to peer into the grotesque cavity.

“These marks... they weren’t made by any kind of blade, were they?”

“No...”

The middle-aged man hesitated, his tone now tinged with a hint of fear.

“Preliminary analysis suggests it was barehanded. Soone tore the heart out with their bare hands.”

“A demonic beast?”

“A person.”

The man clarified:

“And based on the marks... it might’ve been a woman.”

“A woman...” Celicia’s gaze sharpened.

“I rember there’s a rumor that’s been floating around the Lower District. Sothing about a Heart-Eating Banshee who appears on full moon nights, seduces n, and then devours their hearts.”

Celicia glanced up at the pitch-black sky. “The weather may be poor, but according to the calendar, tonight is indeed a full moon. aning... that rumor could be real?”

“It’s... it’s a known story, yes.”

The balding man wiped his forehead even more aggressively now—so much so that one couldn’t help but worry whether those few pitiful strands of hair might get yanked off in the process.

“But the Lower District is a chaotic ss. Every day we pull at least a dozen corpses from alleyways and sewers. We’ve never been able to verify if the rumor is true.”

“True or not, it’s still a lead.”

“Yes, we’ll look into it imdiately.”

“Any other information?”

“N-not at the mont...”

The man trembled as he spoke.

“When we arrived, the rain had already washed away nearly all the evidence. And the killer didn’t even use a weapon. There’s really nothing else to go on.”

“So we’ll have to start from the body itself.”

Celicia lowered her gaze, her eyes scanning the corpse inch by inch.

No wonder the man was losing hair. Rainy night, murder, heart extraction, a noble’s son, and now a possible urban legend monster—botch any part of this and he’d lose more than just his position; he might lose his life.

“You all can withdraw for now.”

Just then, Celicia seed to notice sothing and spoke suddenly.

“Huh? W-we’re not investigating further?”

The man blinked in confusion.

“This is no longer within your jurisdiction.”

Celicia was staring at the corpse’s hand.

Thanks to postmortem rigor mortis, the bloodless hand was twisted like a frozen bird’s claw, as if desperately trying to cling to sothing in its final monts.

And beneath the fingernails—now faintly bloody—Celicia saw sothing out of place.

Scales.

Tiny, black, densely packed scales.

Like those of a snake.

“Serpentkin...”

Sothing flashed through her eyes. A flicker of frost, a breath of killing intent.

She murmured under her breath.

...

...

“What... is this?”

Of course, Professor ladomir hadn’t actually pulled out drills and hamrs to forcibly “upgrade” Muen like so mad scientist in a horror novel. Instead, she brought him to what looked like a lake made entirely of liquid silver.

No—more accurately, it wasn’t a lake at all.

It was a well.

A massive, unfathomably deep well.

“This is the Silver Well.”

ladomir raised her hand and pointed.

“It serves as both the foundation of the Academy... and the prison that seals that thing.”

“That thing?”

“I know you’re curious, but unless you beco a Crowned One, you’d best keep your questions to a minimum.”

ladomir cast Muen a cold sideways glance, effectively shutting him up.

“So if we’re not here for a moral lesson by touring a prison, then why’d we co?”

“To strengthen you, of course.”

“Strengthen?”

“If you want to beco the vessel of the Eternal Clock, then the most important part—your foundation—must be stable.”

ladomir explained:

“So I need to enhance you to a certain extent, make you resistant to ti itself... or at least to the complex Laws of Ti.”

“Resistance?”

“In simple terms, it ans making you more... durable.”

“Durable?”

Muen was growing more and more lost.

“Why do you have to ask about everything?” ladomir rolled her eyes.

“Because I know nothing!”

“Sigh...”

ladomir sighed with the exaggerated weariness of soone wondering how she’d ended up with such a dumb disciple. She pointed to the Silver Well.

“Forget it. Don’t overthink it. Just jump in.”

“Ohhh, so all I have to do is—wait, what the hell?!”

Muen’s expression contorted in panic.

“You can’t just jump into sothing like that! It’s rcury—it’s poisonous!”

“I don’t know what kind of rcury you’re thinking of, but in alchemy, pure quicksilver is one of the fundantal building blocks of all things.”

“Ah, I see.”

Muen let out a breath of relief.

As long as it wasn’t that kind of rcury...

“Though it is highly toxic. Hopefully you won’t die too quickly.”

“...Huh?”

Before he could react, Muen turned just in ti to see Professor ladomir’s dainty little foot rapidly expanding in his field of vision.

“What do you an, huh?! Get in there already!”

Annoyed, ladomir leapt into the air and delivered a perfect loli-style dropkick that launched Muen into the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» well.

“Damn it all!”

As the sting of that brutal kick lit up his cheek and the nausea of freefall overwheld him, Muen couldn’t help but scream in agony midair.

“Why do even real life have to co with damn anti-gravity skirts?!”

...

Muen plunged into the Silver Well.

It felt like falling into tar—his entire body was instantly swallowed up by the thick, flowing liquid.

Instinctively, Muen held his breath.

But the rcury—no, this alchemic quicksilver—seed to possess a will of its own. It surged through his nostrils, burrowed into his ears, crept through every pore and opening in his body, frantically invading him.

Agonizing pain struck like lightning. Then ca the horrifying sensation of corrosion.

The quicksilver began to erode his body, spreading like black ink in clear water.

Wherever it touched, flesh rotted away as though centuries passed in seconds—disintegrating into drifting dust.

“Use fire.”

ladomir’s voice echoed in his ears.

Without hesitation, Muen opened his eyes.

In those brilliant blue irises, fire suddenly ignited.

The Withering King's Fla—a fire of death that consud all, but also a fla of rebirth that brought forth new life.

It was this fire that had let him survive a direct blow from a Crowned One.

Now, under its blaze, his decaying body rapidly regenerated. New flesh grew in its place, glimring faintly with a tallic sheen like liquid rcury.

But it brought him no relief.

The quicksilver kept coming.

It wouldn’t stop.

The pain of rotting flesh. The tickling, maddening itch of regrowth—as though a million ants were gnawing on his nerves.

Two opposite yet equally excruciating sensations assaulted his consciousness at once.

Any ordinary person would’ve gone mad long ago.

But—

“You really think—I’m soone who’d break from this?”

Surrounded by endless quicksilver, Muen’s face twisted with fury as he let out a guttural roar through clenched teeth.

“I’ve faced—death—countless tis! And you think—I’d fear you?!”

Then he opened his mouth.

And began gulping down the quicksilver in huge swallows.

Like pouring cold water into scalding oil, two incompatible forces collided violently within him.

—If we’re going to do this, then let’s go all the way.

...

...

“Yes... yes, that’s it!”

Watching the transformation overtaking Muen within the endless sea of quicksilver, a gleam of exhilaration lit up ladomir’s vivid crimson eyes.

“The Withering King’s Fla... all it does is accelerate the process and give him a slightly higher chance of survival.”

“What truly matters—what this all depends on—is you, Muen Campbell.”

“Only soone with willpower this strong could ever hope to wield the supre throne.”

“Only then... can you help fulfill that final goal.”