* * *

Under the increasingly heavy rain, Jerome pursued Jeanne relentlessly.

He noticed that Jeanne’s pace was gradually slowing.

When Jeanne tripped over a tree root and fell forward, the slime nestled in his arms also tumbled to the ground.

“Pii…”

The small slime let out a pitiful whimper.

Jerome, staring blankly at Jeanne groaning on the ground, stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

Jeanne yanked his arm away irritably, muttering fiercely.

“Don’t touch me.”

Staggering to his feet, Jeanne picked up the slime from the ground and cradled it again.

Watching Jeanne walk aimlessly without a destination, Jerome frowned.

“Stop.”

“Quit being difficult and listen to me.”

“I said, let go!”

“Jeanne.”

At Jeanne’s sharp outburst, Jerome called his name softly.

Their harsh breaths overlapped.

Jeanne turned his head sharply to avoid Jerome’s gaze.

In a voice low and heavy, Jerome asked:

“Do you hate the sight of me now?”

“…”

“Do you wish I’d just disappear from in front of you?”

Jeanne’s eyes flickered for a moment.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

“…I think I was arrogant.”

The moment Jeanne revealed his honest feelings, his lower lip trembled.

The ignorance of his past—when he had vowed to pull Jerome out of hell—felt painfully clear now.

Choosing his words carefully, Jeanne slowly turned his head toward Jerome.

“I thought I could change you. I thought maybe, because of me, you’d come to understand love. But now I know—it was all arrogance, a complete delusion.”

“…”

“I don’t need something as grand as cherries. That’s not what I need. I just… I just need someone who can share a simple loaf of bread with me. But you find that kind of thing boring, don’t you? Isn’t that right?”

Jerome sighed at Jeanne’s words.

He couldn’t understand why Jeanne would want something he couldn’t give.

Not treasures, not power, but something as fickle as emotions that could change at any moment.

Watching Jeanne’s reddened eyes, Jerome spoke calmly.

“You’re right—I find that boring. Love is capricious, prone to change and decay. That’s why I wanted to give you things that hold constant value. Wealth, jewels, power—things like that.”

Raindrops dripped down Jerome’s cheek.

The grip of his hand, still clutching Jeanne’s wrist, tightened.

Jeanne’s face resembled that of a child being scolded, innocent yet stubborn.

It was only then that Jerome realized—unlike him, who viewed people as chess pieces, Jeanne, still so young, easily grew attached to things.

This beautiful yet foolish boy could even harbor affection for someone who might kill him. Jerome sighed and muttered:

“You always stumble like this when you’re doing well. Instead of cunningly using me to your advantage, you waste time chasing invisible love. What’s the point?”

“Stop spouting nonsense. That’s just your self-satisfaction. You give me things I never asked for and feel good about yourself, calling it for my sake?”

“I’ve already told you—I can’t give you what you want.”

“Then let’s end this. I’ll gather the Maya Crystals on my own. Let’s stop wasting emotions on each other and go our separate ways.”

With a resolute expression, Jeanne took a step forward.

Watching him, Jerome roughly grabbed his shoulder, tilting Jeanne’s chin upward as if to force a kiss.

Jeanne swatted him away furiously, the sharp sound of a slap echoing as Jerome’s head snapped to the side.

Jerome grabbed a fistful of Jeanne’s hair and pulled his head back.

Jeanne, his head tilted, glared fiercely at him.

Jerome smirked, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me clearly. Even if I don’t love you, that doesn’t change the fact that you need to stay by my side. I’ll keep you here, even if I have to cut off all your limbs.”

“Go ahead, then. I’ll bite my tongue and die. Then you can lust after my corpse.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll just cut off your tongue, too. That way, you won’t be able to spout nonsense about leaving me.”

Jeanne’s lips parted slightly. After a long silence, he murmured with wounded eyes:

“Just die.”

Raindrops—or perhaps tears—slid down Jeanne’s cheeks.

As he wept, clenching his fists, Jerome softened his expression and cupped Jeanne’s pale cheek.

‘Can people’s memories of me be erased entirely with hypnosis?’

The thought of Jeanne’s sudden question made Jerome’s heart race.

If he used memory-erasing magic, Jeanne could vanish from everyone’s memory and live a life true to himself.

Surely, he’d be happier that way.

Yet Jerome had no intention of using that magic.

For Jeanne to find happiness, Jerome would have to lose him.

And he couldn’t bear that.

No matter what, Jeanne had to stay by his side—even if that meant making him unhappy.

Jerome wanted Jeanne to remain his forever.

“I know letting you go is the true definition of love.”

“…”

“But I just can’t.”

Jerome, watching the sobbing Jeanne helplessly, added in a voice low and hoarse:

“I simply can’t let you go.”

For the first time, Jerome resented his inability to feel love.

Why couldn’t he find beauty in what was beautiful?

Why couldn’t he give Jeanne the love he longed for?

Why couldn’t he even console this heartbroken boy?

For once, the vast knowledge he possessed felt utterly useless.

As the small slime watched the two, it seemed to reach a decision and suddenly leapt into the air.

‘Splosh!’

The baby slime jumped and forcibly pressed their hands together.

Startled, Jeanne pulled back, but the slime’s sticky residue made it impossible to separate their joined hands.

Jeanne, pale and panicked, shouted:

“Stop messing around! Did you brainwash it with magic again?”

“Jeanne, I’m not in the mood for games either.”

“Pii.”

Jerome’s indifferent gaze shifted to the baby slime, which seemed oddly pleased.

After examining the slime carefully, he let out a resigned sigh.

“Well, this is… inconvenient.”

✽ ✽ ✽

As the rain intensified, we sought refuge in a nearby cave, still holding hands—Jerome and I, unwillingly intertwined.

Not long ago, we were at each other’s throats, hurling curses and fists, and now, like awkward grade-schoolers forced to make up, we clung to each other in an embarrassing display that I hoped no one would witness.

‘Telling him to just drop dead… Yeah, that was too much, even for me. Maybe I misunderstood.’

The moment I saw Karen kissing Jerome, a storm of emotion erupted in my chest.

It wasn’t jealousy or betrayal—it was fear.

A gut-wrenching dread of being left alone again, just like when my father left this world ahead of me.

I didn’t dare hope for love; I only wanted to be more than a pawn, easily replaced at Jerome’s whim.

That fear fueled my outburst, but now that my anger had subsided, guilt crept in.

I hadn’t even heard Jerome’s side of the story.

‘The real problem… is that I’ve missed the right moment to apologize.’

Apologies, as easy as they are to say, are infinitely harder to take back once spoken.

I glanced nervously at Jerome, who, unlike me squirming in discomfort, remained as composed as ever.

He calmly tossed a dried branch into the campfire before breaking the silence.

“Slimes are unusual creatures,” he said matter-of-factly.

“They often live in communal groups, much like humans. They establish rules, value peace, and their tendency to stick together in danger stems from that.”

“…That makes them almost human, doesn’t it?” I replied.

“Pretty much. Among monsters, they’re relatively non-aggressive. This one was likely declared a threat when mining operations began and lost its community in the process.”

As he spoke, Jerome raised our joined hands, forcing mine to lift in tandem.

His lips quirked in faint amusement.

“Got any magic to undo this?” I asked, deadpan.

“Nope.”

“Then why won’t you look me in the eye?”

“Because,” he said, still avoiding my gaze, “if someone—oh, I don’t know—hadn’t picked up random creatures on a whim, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Sit down and shut up.”

Jerome poked my cheek with his finger, smirking at my discomfort.

I slapped his hand away, which startled the slime still clinging to us.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I muttered, “Is there really no way to fix this?”

“Unless the slime lets go on its own, we’d have to cut the hand off.”

“…What?”

“Well, given that you’d probably rather die than spend your life clinging to me, let’s just go with the hand-cutting option.”

Without hesitation, Jerome reached for his sword, leaving me gaping in horror.

* * *