As Yetao worried about his survival, Peanut walked the inn's corridor, his mind churning with an enigma that refused to settle.
"Why is water holding onto his soul?" he muttered, fingers brushing against the stone wall. "Could it be...?"
The thought dissolved mid-formation as a familiar presence materialized from the shadows. Hermanubis stepped forward, blocking Peanut's path with deliberate casualness.
"I wonder why you did that," the jackal-eared god said, a sly smile playing across his lips.
Peanut's gaze remained neutral, but something beneath the surface shifted—like water tension moments before breaking. "What do you mean?"
Hermanubis tilted his head, golden eyes glinting with predatory curiosity. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He drew out the words, each syllable dripping with insinuation. "Like how you pulled out his soul. Did you do something else you're feeling guilty about?"
A lesser being might have flinched, Peanut merely brushed past the comment. "That's none of your business," he said coolly, attempting to continue down the corridor.
But Hermanubis wasn't finished. He blocked Peanut's path again, the movement as fluid as a shadow's dance. "Of course it's my business," he pouted, the expression at odds with the intensity burning in his eyes. "He was supposed to be in my collection, but you took him away. That annoys me."
Peanut's sigh carried the weight of centuries. "Like I said, he did not die. Only souls truly dead belong to the underworld. He's off-limits for you."
A glimmer of something dangerous sparked in Hermanubis's gaze. "So if he truly dies," he pressed, "I can collect him, right?"
For the briefest moment—so quick that had Hermanubis blinked, he might have missed it—Peanut's expression transformed. Predatory. Dangerous. A glimpse of something ancient and terrifying that lived beneath his calm exterior.
But just as quickly, it vanished.
"Please refrain from doing such things," Peanut said, his smile gentle but his eyes sharp. "I hope you'll let it pass."
As Peanut walked away, Hermanubis couldn't contain his amusement. "Did I just witness that annoyingly-calm man get angry?" he whispered to himself, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Suddenly, a wave of death brushed against his divine senses. Hermanubis groaned dramatically. "Haah, who keeps killing people? They're not letting me and my underlings rest at all."
His gaze drifted toward Yetao's room. "I'll see you later, Pinky," he murmured, and then—like smoke caught in a breeze—he vanished.
His destination was the middle of a merciless desert, where Makko's soldiers lay dead. And standing amidst the carnage was a figure Hermanubis knew well: Bam.
"Hey!" Hermanubis called out.
Bam turned—and Hermanubis was struck by the transformation. Gone was the powerful figure he remembered. This Bam looked haunted, eyes sunken from sleepless nights, body trembling with an exhaustion that ran deeper than physical fatigue.
"You're on a war?" Hermanubis complained. "Why didn't you tell me beforehand? I would've summoned more of my underlings to carry souls. Tch..."
Bam said nothing, fury etched into every line of his body.
"So you were the one who killed Makko?" Hermanubis asked, unable to resist probing. "That was such a sight. Just what did he do to you that you tore him to pieces—"
Before he could finish, Bam's hands were on his shoulders, desperation radiating from him in waves. "He's dead? Where? No... forget it." His voice cracked. "Did you collect some other soul with him?"
The intensity was startling—like a man who had found a single drop of water in an endless desert.
Hermanubis paused, intrigued. "I collect a lot of souls. Whom do you ask?"
Bam's hands trembled. "She... she had pink hair. Her name is Yetao."
Is this the same person who wiped out a whole territory last year? Hermanubis wondered, watching Bam tremble like a leaf in a hurricane. Outwardly, he maintained an air of careful mystery. "No. I did not escort such a person. But..." he let the words hang, deliberately creating suspense.
Bam looked terrified.
Hmmm... He's definitely talking about Pinky. But wasn't that a man? Hermanubis pondered, amused. Pinky's collecting some weird men.
"Why don't you ask Peanut?" Hermanubis suggested. "I think he might know."
Hope flickered in Bam's eyes. "Peanut? How will he know about her?"
"He's at the borderland inn. Why don't you ask yourself?" Hermanubis revealed, watching as Bam immediately summoned his sand and disappeared without even a farewell.
"I shouldn't have told you," Hermanubis pouted to the empty desert. "You leave me the second you got an answer? You were cuter when you were a kid" He sighed, looking at the collected souls. "Ahh... What a boring thing to do."
Meanwhile, at the inn, Yetao and Peanut were deep in discussion about returning Yetao to his original world.
"Do you at least remember the last thing you saw or heard before coming here?" Peanut asked, his brown eyes fixed on Yetao with intense curiosity.
An artifact, Yetao thought. How do I explain this?
Spotting ink and paper nearby, he began to draw. His hand moved with the precision of a professional artist, carefully recreating the memory that had brought him to this strange world.
When he finished, he proudly pushed the paper toward Peanut.
Peanut's expression was a mixture of confusion and polite bewilderment. "Um... so this is what you saw?" He pointed at what appeared to be a crude stick figure with glowing red eyes.
Yetao nodded enthusiastically. "These eyes glowed red. This is the last thing I remember."
Peanut forced a smile. "So... a stick? And what is this? A ghost?"
Yetao pouted, deflating slightly. "I don't know. It was something like this."
"Don't worry," Peanut said, his voice reassuring. "We can find out in the Palace library. I believe it has everything stacked as pictures, being the largest library. And if that is an artifact, we should search the treasure chamber."
He hesitated, then added, "We need to go to the palace, Yetao."
Yetao flinched. "But—"
"I'll help you," Peanut interrupted, ruffling Yetao's hair. "Just stick to me and let's not get your cover blown."
Relief washed over Yetao. Everyone here seems nice, he thought. Except that one grumpy guy.
As if summoned by the thought, the very "grumpy guy" burst through the door.
Bam stood there, looking simultaneously relieved and furious. His eyes locked onto Yetao, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
"How did—" Bam began, taking a step forward.
But Peanut was faster. He moved between Bam and Yetao, a protective barrier that seemed to radiate warning.
"She is still in shock," Peanut said, deliberately using "she" and maintaining the earlier deception. "Don't scare her like always."
Bam's eyebrow raised. "Why? Did she complain?"
"I just know you, Bam," Peanut replied, and something unspoken passed between them compressed into a single loaded glance.
Tension filled the room like static electricity, waiting to spark.
Yetao, caught in the middle, wondered desperately, Should I interfere now?
To be continued...