Become A Character Who Dies Within Three Chapters

The girl wasn't even a meter and a half tall, her frail, shaky frame stumbling step by step toward the main road. Her ashen-gray hair, long enough to reach her waist, drooped behind her, making her look weak.

Louis frowned, immediately lunged forward, and yanked the child back in time. It was a close call—by a hair's breadth—the car that missed them by only a few centimeters was kicked by him off toward the roadside.

The man chasing after the car saw this and rushed over, hastily thanking him before quickly gathering his belongings, afraid others would swoop in and snatch them away.

The little girl fell into Louis's arms, seeming somewhat startled. She tilted her head back, wide eyes staring at him.

"Lucian, are you alright?"

Just then, Julia came running over, her worried expression impossible to hide.

Louis waved his hand, speaking softly: "I'm fine."

Then he looked at the girl, who was now standing upright, and said earnestly: "Don't do that again. It's hazardous."

The little girl lowered her head, saying nothing. Louis didn't press further and led Julia and Andy back home.

Julia's house was close to Louis's, only about three houses away.

Watching Louis set the pile of things inside, Julia smiled and said, "Thank you. Stay and have a meal with me."

Calling it a meal, it was nothing more than discarded nutrient pouches or scraps they had scavenged from the dump. Their lives had always been like this, and they didn't feel anything particularly wrong about it.

Louis smiled and shook his head: "No need. I should go back."

He patted Mina and Nana on the head. Since he had given them candy earlier, the two children had clung to him, looking like they couldn't bear to let go.

"Alright, be good. I'll give you more candy next time."

Mina and Nana, knowing Louis had to leave, reluctantly released him, their lips pouting slightly. Andy wasn't as clingy as his two younger sisters, but his wide, expectant eyes were still fixed on Louis.

Louis couldn't help but find it funny, but he didn't linger long.

Mina watched Louis's departing back, her childish voice soft: "I like Brother Lucian."

Julia couldn't help but smile at her words, but Mina continued: "He's not like everyone else."

She hugged her own head. When Brother Lucian patted her earlier, his hand hadn't been filthy or foul—it might have even smelled better than hers. How strange. Everyone else always carried malice, but Brother Lucian did not.

"He definitely doesn't belong here. He's an angel from heaven!" Nana said with certainty.

Julia lowered her gaze, saying nothing. At times, she, too, felt that Lucian surely didn't belong in this place.

By now, Louis had returned to his own home. He couldn't help but pause for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the little "mushroom" that had just sprouted in front of his door.

The girl from earlier was curled up by his doorway. She lifted her head when she sensed the shadow blocking out the light. Her right eye was exposed—pale and cloudy as if blind, yet glimmering faintly inside. Louis frowned slightly. For some reason, the scene struck him with a fierce, almost painful sense of familiarity.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

The girl spoke slowly, her words halting: "I have no home to return to."

Her words nearly made Louis laugh. "So you're planning to squat here instead?"

The girl stayed silent, bowing her head even lower, as though resigned to Louis's judgment.

He looked at her for a while, then finally walked past, unlocking the door.

Seeing this, the girl stood up, looking a little dazed.

Louis chuckled. "Come on in."

She stared blankly at him for a long time—so long that Louis thought she might never respond—but then she suddenly bolted forward and threw her arms around him.

Do you get déjà vu?

Louis had never been one to ignore his instincts. He pressed down on her shoulders, pushing her back two steps, and asked seriously: "What's your name?"

The girl honestly shook her head. "I don't know..."

At that moment, Louis suddenly moved with impossible speed, sweeping her bangs aside.

The girl jolted, eyes widening as she flailed to cover herself again, scratching two bloody marks across Louis's hand in the process.

"Tch. Those nails are really sharp." But Louis had already seen her whole face.

The left side, usually hidden under her lengthy hair, looked like it had been burned or gravely injured. The skin was warped and incomplete, no eye to be seen—only a smooth, raw, scarlet surface that contrasted sharply with the delicate beauty of the other half of her face.

Her hair was ashen gray as before, and her eye colors were mismatched. And what made Louis sure was this: Aboli would never allow herself to fall into such a state.

Louis watched the girl curled up, trembling on the ground, and sighed. It was his fault too. Perhaps spending so long among those lunatics had made him suspicious of everyone.

The girl had her head clutched tightly in her arms now, squatting on the floor, her body shaking uncontrollably. Her hands covered her face, fingers clenching hard.

She knew her appearance must be hideous—horribly, unbearably hideous.

Plenty of people had tried to do bad things to her, but the moment they saw her face, they would recoil in shock, then spit in disgust.

She had killed them—ripped open their throats, gouged out their eyes, crushed them—so she would never have to see those hateful expressions again!

But the man in front of her… smelled clean and fresh. He was tall. He looked at others with nothing but respect. He was brave, reckless of danger. He had saved her. His embrace had been so warm—so why did he want to look at her face? Why did he suddenly do that? Was he just like those others out there?!

She lifted her head, bracing herself for whatever came next.

If this boy showed that hateful, ugly expression, she would kill him—kill him quickly. It wouldn't hurt… it wouldn't hurt at all…

But when she met Louis's eyes, she flinched.

There was no disgust or revulsion in his gaze. His look was gentle, even relieved; his face showed a trace of self-reproach. His lips moved as he apologized: "Sorry, you reminded me a little of someone I know, so I just wanted to be sure. I must have scared you."

He crouched down opposite her, head slightly bowed, and said softly, "Hit me, then. Consider it my apology for making you uncomfortable."

The girl stared at Lucian, then at his closed eyes and the freckled patches across his face. Suddenly she raised a hand and lightly touched the scratch on his chin—the scratch she had just made...

In that instant, she wanted to dig it out, to make the man before her show real, unbearable pain. But she stopped herself—she knew that would be wrong; he might be frightened away.

Ultimately, she only asked in a small voice, "Does it hurt?"

Lucian opened his eyes and, faced with the child's innocent look, smiled. "Not a bit."

It sounded like consolation, but it was true—his new body wasn't susceptible to pain. It suited someone who hated pain as much as he did. These little scratches could probably heal instantly, yet Lucian didn't make them disappear; he knew he needed to seem more ordinary.

"If you don't have a name, then from now on I'll call you Lily, okay? Do you want to stay with me? My name is Lucian."

The girl—who had nowhere to go and had even recently tried to die—was only a small mouth to feed. Louis felt he could take care of her.

Hearing Lucian say that, Lily could not contain her joy. She curved her lips and clung to him, utterly dependent.

She didn't know—couldn't remember—anything. Since opening her eyes, she had felt constantly angry and disgusted; the world sickened her, as if only blood and violence could calm the roaring monster inside. She was furious for reasons she didn't even understand.

But everything seemed to stop. Her world fell quieter than it had ever been when she met Lucian. Lucian, Lucian—Lily knew she had finally found where she belonged.

Everything went as before — only now one more person lived in Louis's house. Julia seemed slightly surprised by this, but she was kind-hearted; once she learned of Lily's situation, she immediately looked at the girl warmly, ready to be a caring older sister.

A week had passed since Louis took Lily in. He'd already noticed something: Lily wasn't overly sensitive to negative emotions. She wouldn't even mind if she went without food; nothing seemed to move her. That tiny indifference made a flicker of unease spark inside Louis.

But could it be that bad? Besides, Aboli should be leading her notorious gang right now, not wandering around like this.

Louis's guesses were put on hold tonight — he had something important to do.

His plan to get rich… of course. He couldn't remain a low-class citizen, exiled forever. He needed money.

Moreover, Julia's health had been poor lately; she needed medical attention, not to be left stuck in this dump to fend for her life or surrender to fate. Fate was never gentle to people, especially the poor — it only ever seemed to kick them until they were dead.