Chapter 197: Spiciness is a Kind of Pain
The atmosphere, which had just calmed down, tensed up again. Amon looked at Alice with a dangerous glint in his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
—He was probably laughing out of anger.
"Alice," he called out slowly, "it's a pity you didn't become a 'provocateur.'"
Alice looked at Amon, pondered for a moment, and couldn't help but ask, "Why don't you hit me?"
Amon's eyes widened in disbelief, but then he saw Alice covering her mouth with her hand. Realizing something was wrong, she switched to holding her head and screamed, "I didn't mean it!"
Amon was silent for a moment, frowning as he asked, "…Did I force you to speak?"
"No," Alice put down her hand, looked up with a very serious expression, and said, "Actually, my mouth has a mind of its own."
"…Alright," Amon reluctantly believed this obvious nonsense and smiled, "Alice, what kind of death do you prefer?"
"Huh?" Alice blinked in confusion.
Amon relaxed and leaned back on the sofa, smiling as he said, "Since I'm in a good mood now, you can choose the way you like."
Alice thought for a moment, held back the insulting question "Are you a masochist?" and instead asked curiously, "Why are you in a good mood after being insulted?"
"…Alice," Amon called her name with a complex expression, "the point of that statement is that I want to kill you."
Alice nodded, suddenly understanding, "So, you don't dare to kill me!"
Amon fell into deep thought. He decided to learn from Alice's strategy and asked with a frown, "In general, what would you do in this situation?"
Alice seriously thought about it, then quickly concluded, "I would ask if the other person is sick."
So Amon adopted this strategy: "Are you sick?"
Alice continued to think seriously, then answered earnestly, "I don't know. I haven't specifically seen a doctor, but I don't think there's anything wrong with me."
Amon fell into deep thought again.
Alice's eyes sparkled as she leaned forward slightly and asked, "So… Lord Angel of Time, before you kill me, can you fulfill my last wish?"
"What?" Amon asked in confusion.
Alice blinked and reminded him, "Put chili sauce in the ice cream…"
Amon looked at Alice, his gaze falling on the monocle over her right eye. He smiled and said, "Sure."
Alice immediately became happy, but then she thought of another problem: "But where can we find an ice cream truck and chili sauce…"
Alice didn't get to finish her question because an ice cream truck suddenly appeared in the open space, making the living room feel cramped.
Alice stared in amazement and exclaimed, "Wow, you have a backpack slot!"
Although he heard a completely unfamiliar term, Amon roughly understood Alice's meaning and asked in confusion, "Why is your way of thinking always so strange?"
Alice pondered for a moment, looked at the somewhat familiar ice cream truck, and asked as if confirming, "Is this the one you stole last time?"
Amon nodded.
So, Alice exclaimed again, "Your backpack slot can also keep things fresh!"
Amon fell silent.
Alice continued thoughtfully, "But, it turns out that your different avatars share the same backpack slot…"
"It can be," Amon answered indifferently, "Let me see where the chili sauce is…"
Alice was about to say she would go buy it, but Amon actually pulled out a jar of chili sauce from somewhere. Alice stared at the jar hesitantly and asked, "…Did you just steal this?"
Amon nodded matter-of-factly.
Alice hesitated between morality and gold coins, ultimately choosing to study the ice cream with chili sauce first.
She had long forgotten her initial fear and hatred when she first saw Amon at home and when Amon attacked her. She looked at Amon with great anticipation.
Amon didn't disappoint Alice. After thinking for a moment, he made a very beautiful ice cream drizzled with chili sauce.
After contemplating this literal dark cuisine for a moment, Amon handed it to Alice and asked, "Want to try?"
Alice stared at the ice cream for a few seconds, then really stuck out her tongue and licked it. She took two steps back, covered her mouth, and looked at Amon.
Amon watched Alice's expression with great interest and asked, "How is it?"
Alice put down her hand, revealing a face full of grief, and answered in a pained voice, "I don't know.
"I couldn't taste anything. I only know…
"Spiciness is a kind of pain."
This vivid expression and tone successfully amused Amon. After confirming that this method was indeed a literal dark cuisine, Alice bravely nudged Amon and asked, "If I tell you Will Onsetin's home address, can you take me there directly?"
Amon didn't mind Alice's actions and thoughtfully looked at her, saying, "Actually, I originally thought you would consider a more human way to get there."
"…That's not an adjective, right?" Alice questioned while explaining, "Besides, taking a carriage costs money!"
"…" This was an unexpected but reasonable answer. Amon's mouth twitched suspiciously, and he didn't pursue the topic further.
After learning Will Onsetin's home address, Amon demonstrated what conceptual theft was, successfully eliciting Alice's exclamation:
"Wow!"
This time, Alice's amazement didn't elicit any response from Amon. He glanced at Alice, suddenly smiled maliciously, making Alice instinctively nervous.
But then nothing seemed to happen—at least that's what Alice thought until she realized no one could notice her.
Alice pondered for a moment and asked Amon, "If someone under this unnoticed spell has bad luck, could they accidentally get killed?"
Amon didn't have time to answer because the person Alice was waiting for arrived—Wilma, who was carrying Will Onsetin.
"I want an ice cream." Wilma, seemingly unaware of anything unusual, asked.
Alice stared at Wilma's belly, wondering if Will Onsetin hadn't noticed anything wrong here.
She didn't have much time to think because Amon, who had fulfilled her "last wish," eagerly asked her, "You still haven't told me what kind of death you prefer."