"You're not taking me to the East District?" Lanevus looked at Snow, his face full of confusion.
His current state was like having a split personality. Although his own personality was still dominant, every time he relaxed, grew tired, or fell asleep, the consciousness belonging to the True Creator would take control of his body and do something very troublesome.
Under these circumstances, as long as he was taken to the East District and hidden for a month or two, the True Creator's will would grow enough to suppress his own personality. At that point, he would be completely replaced and become a vessel for the god's descent.
Yet this member of the Aurora Order had chosen to bring him to the West District!
While the West District wasn't exactly pure, it was practically peaceful compared to the East District, which was saturated with resentment, death, numbness, and madness!
In the East District, he would be replaced in a month or two. In the West District, that timeline might be stretched to half a year.
"You think I don't know what you're thinking?" Influenced by the power of [None Shall See Through], Snow wasn't worried that Lanevus would remember his face or build, even though he was facing him directly.
He merely maintained a cold expression and said indifferently, "Don't take me for a fool! The East District would indeed allow my Lord to descend faster, but a chaotic environment also means risk. A Swindler like you could easily stir up trouble to draw in official Beyonders, then use the opportunity to escape. Am I right? My Lord has waited thousands of years to descend; do you think He wouldn't see through your little tricks?"
Snow's gaze met Lanevus's. He wasn't saying this for Lanevus's sake, but for the consciousness hidden inside him,the True Creator's.
As the 'Depraved Nature of all Living Beings,' the True Creator could project His consciousness into others through divinity and use negative emotions as fuel to gradually replace the host's mind.
This meant that this "Little True Creator" had a consciousness. If Snow didn't explain himself, there was a risk that the Little Creator would take control and run to the East District itself.
Lanevus clearly understood Snow's meaning and sank into the sofa, looking deathly pale. Snow didn't relax his guard, but he said no more, casually sitting down and picking up a book brought by an attendant to read in silence.
...
"Why isn't there any reaction! Is the dose too low?"
After being confined in Mr. A's residence for a week, Lanevus's mood grew increasingly irritable. Life here was decent; except for the fact that he couldn't leave the house, the food and entertainment were of the highest noble standards.
However, the "sprout" growing inside him every day left him with no appetite for food he couldn't have afforded even in his wealthiest days.
That damn guy had used some kind of mental influence that made him return to his bedroom every time he tried to leave. While he knew that using the True Creator's divinity would instantly clear that mental influence, Lanevus also knew that was likely exactly what the man wanted him to do.
Just as his anxiety reached its peak, a series of discordant, jarring piano notes drifted down from above. This made his already frayed nerves even more frantic.
"Dammit! What the hell is that guy doing now?"
Lanevus let out a furious roar. An attendant immediately hurried over, bowed politely, and said in a perfect Backlund accent, "Apologies. Mr. V received a piano as a gift today, and to ensure such a precious gift isn't wasted, he is currently teaching himself to play."
"He calls that learning? Dammit, a rat running across the keys would sound better! For god's sake, can't he just hire a piano teacher?"
Lanevus knew this was likely a ploy to induce negative emotions, but he couldn't stop himself from roaring. He had nothing else left to do but be angry.
As a fraudster who understood human psychology, he knew that negative emotions would only accumulate, and that releasing pressure was necessary.
However, the piano notes from the music room didn't stop. Instead, they became even more chaotic.
It felt as though someone who didn't even know what a note was was pounding the keys with all their might.
What made it even more desperate was that the True Creator's consciousness didn't seem to mind the noise. Or rather, instead of being annoyed by the noise, it preferred the negative emotions he generated because of the noise. This meant Lanevus couldn't even use "Your God won't like this" as an excuse.
"Get me some earplugs."
Lanevus knew his resistance was futile. After his futile outburst, he made a humble request to the attendant.
"No problem, sir." The attendant didn't refuse. As Snow had said, in this house, Lanevus could ask for anything,including the company of the maids, who perfectly matched the Aurora Order's "corporate culture",as long as he didn't kill anyone or leave.
Lanevus had no interest in that. If the True Creator used the opportunity to conceive something, he wouldn't have a single path to survival left!
The attendant quickly brought two balls of cotton. But when Lanevus stuffed them into his ears, he found that the chaotic piano sounds hadn't diminished at all. In fact, they seemed to echo directly inside his skull.
"Dammit! He's using Beyonder powers to play!" Lanevus pulled out the cotton and slammed it into the floor, but the cotton drifted down slowly, seemingly mocking him with its silence.
"AAAGH!"
Lanevus let out a howl of rage. He desperately hoped his voice would reach the street and bring a police patrol, but he knew it was impossible. From the day he moved in, that man had used a ritual to trap all sound within the house.
After some time, Lanevus finally caught his breath, his anger spent. He took a deep breath and looked at the smiling attendant.
"Get me a gramophone! And some records. That's not a problem, is it?"
"Of course. What kind of music do you prefer? Mr. A has a collection of classical operas, while Mr. V prefers... 'light music' invented by Emperor Roselle." The attendant maintained his professional smile.
Lanevus looked at that handsome, smiling face and forced out a few words through gritted teeth:
"The loudest ones!"
"Very well. Mr. V brought a collection with two rare 'Death Metal' albums, also invented by Emperor Roselle. I'll go get them for you..."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]
T/N: "Death Metal" (死亡重金属) - One of Roselle's many 'inventions.' Known for its aggressive style.