Chapter 6: Breaking the Curse, Losing My Love

His explanation was clinical, but I could see the pain in his eyes. Even for a scholar, this was a nightmare. It hurt to watch.

“Besides, ghost miasma has another use, I’ve only read about it… With a certain medium, ghost miasma can become ghost corpses.” Ghost corpses, bodies that only obey the host, with strong combat power.

I shuddered at the thought. The implications were terrifying. This was next-level evil.

I asked: “What’s the medium?” Whitaker shook his head: “Not sure yet, but I suspect it’s related to the local Reaper.”

My stomach dropped. I didn’t like where this was going. Please, not me.

We strolled among the bones, my Reaper power making me want to send them to the afterlife, but now was not the time to alert the enemy.

I clenched my fists, every instinct screaming for justice. But patience was our only weapon now. Wait for the right moment.

Whitaker: “I think we should report this to the Big Boss, get reinforcements.” I was fine with that: “If we can call for help, great, but our magic can’t get out, how do we report?”

He nodded, already brainstorming. I loved that about him. Always thinking ahead.

“Remember how you first contacted us?” My phone? I stared.

A lightbulb flickered on in my brain. Sometimes, the simplest solutions were the best. Old school works.

Whitaker: “Sometimes the most old-school methods work best.” Carrier pigeons need even less power than phones. “To keep up appearances, the evil god hasn’t wiped out all animals, nor set defenses on non-spirit animals. There are still birds here, I can train them as carrier pigeons.”

He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. I couldn’t help but smile back. We made a good team.

Why didn’t I think of that! Whitaker is really a brain on legs, with him, things go twice as fast!

I ruffled his hair, unable to resist. He blushed, which only made me want to tease him more. Adorable.

As a rough Reaper, I have no resistance to such a clever god. “What’s wrong?” He looked at me gently, even patted my head. I grinned: “With you, I’ll be tricked out of my underwear.” “….”

He laughed, the sound soft and genuine. In this hellhole, it was a miracle. A little light in the dark.

The next day, I went out in my original Reaper attire, Whitaker still in dirty Maple Heights disguise, following me anxiously. Mr. Kane gathered everyone for something.

The tension in the air was electric. Even the birds seemed to quiet down. Something big was coming.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hand, and the three below and the one on stage tensed up, afraid we’d be exposed. My other hand instinctively grabbed Whitaker, ready to act.

My heart hammered in my chest. I squeezed Whitaker’s hand, grounding myself. Ready for anything.

Then I heard Mr. Kane announce: “From now on, Riley is Maple Heights’ number two, when I’m not here, you all listen to her.” “?” The sudden promotion didn’t make me feel relieved. This creep is up to something.

I forced a smile, but my gut screamed trouble. This was not good.

Someone objected. Mr. Kane: “Because she’s my lover.” Then he killed the objector on the spot. Damn! Speechless.

The room froze. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cool. Don’t let them see you sweat.

Mr. Kane: “Anyone else have doubts?” I squeezed Whitaker’s hand so hard it almost broke.

His grip was steady, reassuring. I took a shaky breath. We’d get through this.

After the meeting, Mr. Kane took me to a place near his residence: “This house is yours now, and you are mine.” What a big ego, creep!

I glared at the gaudy wallpaper, determined not to show fear. Over my dead body.

Then he pointed at Whitaker behind me: “Is he your lackey?” I tensed, about to deny it, when Whitaker quickly stepped up: “I am.”

He spoke with conviction, every word a shield. My hero.

Mr. Kane looked at him with interest, and I, desperate, let my second personality out and knelt: “Mr. Kane, my lackey can’t talk, please forgive him, I’ll teach him well for you!”

I bowed low, hoping to deflect attention from Whitaker. Protect him at all costs.

Whitaker gave me a deep look, then knelt too. Suddenly I remembered something from the internet: “Couples start to resemble each other after a while.” Whitaker suddenly became as cowardly as me: “If you wish, I can be your lackey too.”

My jaw dropped. I never thought he’d go that far for me. True love.

My pupils widened in shock! Whitaker, do you know what you’re saying? You’ll do anything for love!

He winked, just for me. My heart fluttered. Swoon.

Mr. Kane looked pleased: “Not bad, quite ambitious.” Then I couldn’t understand: Mr. Kane just made me his lover, now he takes Whitaker away. Oh no, maybe he’s not the Whitaker I knew anymore.

I watched helplessly as they walked away, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Please be okay.

I went to Cupid to drown my sorrows. Why Cupid? Because wherever he goes, he’s the most idle. Nowadays, matchmaking business is tough. Cupid sighed: “If love is meant to last…” “Screw men!”

I slammed my drink down, the whiskey burning my throat. Even in heaven, heartbreak sucked. Nothing takes the edge off.

Cupid advised: “Whitaker is always resourceful, maybe it’s a misunderstanding…” Bull! “That evil god took Whitaker away in front of me, he must be bent! My cabbage is being eaten by a pig! Damn it!”