Chapter 039 - Eerie Night Fair 11

  Everyone was searching for an apple…

  Or, failing that, something—anything—that might resemble an illicit attraction.

  All efforts ended in failure.

  With only half an hour left, I retraced every path I had yet to explore, my steps measured, my eyes sharp. I checked every nook, every shadow, ensuring that no hidden statues, carvings, or objects resembling snakes or apples had escaped my notice. Only once I was certain did I turn back toward the fountain, thoughts swirling in my mind like the water cascading over its marble edges.

  Before I could even steady myself, a blur of movement shot toward me. A pair of hands grasped my shoulders, and before I could react, soft lips landed briefly against my cheek. The moment passed in an instant. The next thing I knew, the culprit had leaped away, her expression riddled with guilt, her gaze darting in every direction except mine.

  I blinked. “…???”

  My body tensed instinctively. I wasn’t fond of people invading my personal space, and my first instinct was to let my irritation show. But since it was someone familiar, I forced my temper down and exhaled through my nose.

  “No. 137,” I said coolly, “what the hell was that?”

  She fidgeted, pressing her index fingers together, eyes downcast. “I just… thought it might work,” she mumbled. “What if this was the key to passing the trial? I had to try, right? Don’t be mad—I was wrong, I was wrong. But…” She hesitated, then glanced up with an almost hopeful look. “Can I try again? I don’t think I actually landed it properly just now…”

  I let out a slow, unimpressed sigh and flicked her forehead. “Go bother Elliot instead.”

  Elliot chuckled, shaking his head as he raised a hand in mock refusal. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  No. 137 pouted and slumped down against the fountain’s edge beside me, looking thoroughly dejected.

  Her interpretation of “lust” was… surprisingly innocent. A simple kiss, an act of closeness between a man and a woman—perhaps, in her mind, a pure enough gesture to count as something greater. It was an interesting thought.

  My gaze drifted toward the statues standing in Zones A and B. A possibility surfaced in my mind, and I murmured, “I wonder if there’s a way to bring those two statues together…”

  “Hm? What did you say?” Elliot turned to me, his voice nearly drowned out by the constant trickle of the fountain.

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  I repeated, “Zone A has a prince statue, and Zone B has a princess statue. I wonder if there’s a way to merge them.”

  “I’ll go check it out!” No. 25 perked up, her interest immediate. Before we could even discuss further, she had already taken off at a sprint, her excitement evident in her hurried steps.

  Elliot, however, was far less enthusiastic. “They’re at least 200 meters apart in a straight line,” he pointed out. “Each statue is ten meters tall—solid stone, probably weighing several tons. Moving them manually isn’t happening.” He tilted his head up, his gaze shifting to the sky, where the two suns hovered perilously close to merging. “Damn, those things are bright.”

  Time was running out. Thirty minutes left. Once both suns dipped below the horizon, the next round would begin.

  A heavy silence settled over the group. The initial frenzy of problem-solving had faded into a dull exhaustion. After all the effort, all the frantic searching, we had nothing.

  I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stand. “I’ll check a few of the attractions we haven’t visited yet,” I said. “Might as well prepare for whatever comes next.”

  Before I could take a step, No. 25 came racing back, her windbreaker billowing behind her. “Sylas!” she called, breathless but buzzing with energy. “I got a close look at both statues, and you won’t believe it! Their hands—both of them—are wearing wedding rings! The prince’s is on his left hand, and the princess’s is on her right. What if merging them really is the answer?”

  Her excitement was palpable, but Elliot and I remained unmoved. Even the elderly No. 9 let out a weary sigh and shook his head. “Not possible,” he said flatly. “Ten meters tall. That’s three, maybe four stories high. In reality, you’d need a crane to lift them. No amount of manpower could move them. If they fell, they’d crush anyone in the way.”

  “Oh.” No. 25 deflated like a punctured balloon. “So what do we do? Just sit here and wait to die?”

  “Or,” I murmured, rolling up the sleeves of my white shirt, “we keep searching for more clues related to love.”

  I crouched by the fountain, dipping my fingers into the cool water. The ripples distorted the reflections of the twin suns above. Slowly, I retrieved a handful of coins from the fountain’s basin, letting the excess water slide through my fingers.

  Something caught my eye.

  I turned the coins over in my palm, inspecting the details. Each one bore the unmistakable cherubic face of Cupid, round and grinning.

  “Cupid,” I mused aloud, the pieces beginning to click together in my mind. “He’s tied to love as well. And this fountain—it’s at the very center of everything. What if this is the key we’ve been looking for?”