Good Morning, Miss Undercover

15

Since I have claimed that I was going to sleep I could only obediently lay down on the bed and yell at him who was outside in a low voice, "Hey! I'll not send you off. Don't forget to close the door when you leave."

After the previous commotion, my body felt like it would collapse at any moment. However, my mood has improved a lot. No wonder hungry people maintained high morale during the turbulent times even though they should have moved less to preserve their energy instead. In fact, the reason was very simple. It was much easier to die from starvation when one thought about how hungry one was and how much one yearned to eat a chicken leg all day long. Fighting, on the other side, could both divert your attention and also enrich your spiritual life. Although the body would be hungry at least the spirit would be full. Even if one still ended up being a hungry ghost it would be the hungry ghost of a high quality. During the time of reincarnation, you could proudly tell the King of Hell that you were cut above all others and that your position in the Fight the Landlord game[1] was particularly high.

The fever had probably stewed my brains as my whole body felt like it has traveled into the cosmos, indulging in flights of fancy[2].

Since there was a male mammal harboring unfathomable motives in the house I did not dare to sleep. I kept my ears pointed and attentively listened for any movements outside. There seemed to be no sound. It was so quiet it appeared as if nobody has been there.

Was it a dream?

I touched the swollen bulge at the back of my head. It hurt so apparently it was not a dream. I sat up and suspiciously glanced at the outside. There was no one in the living room. Where has he gone? I do not remember setting a trap there.

I got out of bed, tiptoed to the doorway and searched around. The living room was empty. There was no one on the balcony. Was it possible that he has left?

I clumsily opened the main door and extended my head to look out. No one in the corridor. I closed the door and turned around while being perplexed.

"Ah~"

A man in black wearing a cold expression suddenly appeared in front of me, with only one step separating us. It had frightened me so much that I had to clutch onto my heart, mouth wide opened to an O shape.

I was enraged, "Are you a cat? Are there no sounds when you walk?"

He cast a glance at me then turned his head focusing his attention on my dad's photo that hung on the wall. He nonchalantly said, "Are you a cockroach then?"

"Cockroach? You are the cockroach." I felt that what he was conducting was a personal slander. His gaze swept over the messy living room that looked like being ransacked by robbers. With an incredulous look in eyes he looked at me, revealing a little disgust, "Don't you think that only cockroach would stay......." He paused as if looking for a more appropriate metaphor, ".......would stay at this place where even mice wouldn't dwell?"

I was flabbergasted.

"You, you.....you. Maddening. You are truly maddening me...." I pointed finger at him while trembling. He was watching me with an expression that was saying "as expected". I was so dizzy with anger that I turned around to heavily hit my forehead against the wall. A loud bang sound could be heard.

Not painful enough. Bang! I hit the wall again.

I tried to mutilate myself. Since I was unable to beat him at least I could finish myself, right?

I decided to knock myself into unconsciousness. Out of sight, out of mind. When I finally gathered sufficient energy to attempt for another round a different sensation came from my forehead. It was not cold and hard wall but a warm palm.