She is not an investigator.

He did not do everything voluntarily, just as Igris had done then, unable to control his physical urges.

This situation is no longer a mental problem, but a blatant curse.

A curse that is difficult to detect.

The Gods' Fool - Regret: Chapter Thirty-Four, I Don't Like You

“No, Igris, you are not like him.”

Olivia instinctively tried to refute Igris's words, but everything she said was meaningless.

She couldn't find any evidence to explain the rationale behind everything; she was simply trying to soothe Igris's emotions and cheer her up a little.

Igris no longer needed this kind of comfort, or rather, it only annoyed her.

However, she will not be annoyed with Olivia, no matter what she does.

"It's alright, Olivia, I still have time. After everything is over... I want to go out and see the world, is that alright?"

Olivia raised her hand as if to say something, but couldn't utter a word.

Perhaps she wanted to refuse Igris's request, because once everything was over, she could most likely return to the agency and, as usual, snuggle up with Igris in the warm room, chatting casually, waiting for clients to come to her.

“Where are you going… Igris? It’s safe here, and I can give you everything you want.”

“No, Olivia…it’s not safe here.”

Igris could deceive herself and continue living the same life she used to, getting along well with everyone and living her daily life, whether she liked it or not.

But she can't.

She couldn't afford such a price, nor did she want to bear it.

She didn't know when she would have another problem, whether she would hurt the people around her, or how long this situation would last.

She didn't want to swing her blade at the people she cherished again, otherwise she would never be able to forgive herself.

"Don't be too sad, Olivia. Every parting is for a better reunion in the future... I hope that one day I can meet you again in the same perfect state as when we first met."

Igris forced a not-so-good smile with her fingers, but everything she said was genuine.

Olivia always knew that she couldn't hold onto Igris for long, and she always knew that Igris would eventually leave her and go far away.

She just didn't expect it to happen so quickly, nor did she expect it to be so sudden.

"...I have no right to refuse, do I?"

"Feel sorry."

Olivia already knew the answer; her questioning was merely an attempt to kill the last shred of hope in her heart.

She took a deep breath, and the sadness and heaviness on her face slowly faded away, replaced by her usual optimism, confidence, and vitality.

She smiled and extended her hand to Igris again.

“Then it’s a promise. When you get better, you must come back to me, no matter when, no matter where I am, no matter if I have started a family or not… there will always be a place for you by my side, Igris.”

She paused for a moment, then added again in a low voice.

“My…assistant.”

"It is my honor, Olivia."

"Alright... I won't bother you anymore. After all, I've already said everything I needed to say. As for the flute, I'm afraid I'll need to go find the local Special Investigations Department agents... It's quite a strange feeling to betray your own uncle."

Olivia shrugged, then silently turned away.

"Let's go for a walk around the neighborhood once she's a little more awake. After all... we still have three days, right?"

Igris did not answer, but Olivia had already left the ward and closed the door behind her.

The room fell silent again, with only Igris's faint breathing remaining.

She sat down on the chair by the bed again, her gaze fixed on the sunlight streaming through the window and the street with the sound of waves lapping against the shore.

She seemed less afraid of the sea, or perhaps more fear had permeated every corner of her being, making the fear of the sea seem insignificant.

If she could, she would really like to see the sea, sit on the beach... with her friends, wearing swimsuits, sunbathing, and feeling the sea breeze on her body.

However, it's probably still a bit too cold this time of year.

"..."

While Igris was still lost in thought, Isabella on the bed had already silently opened her eyes.

Her injuries weren't actually that serious, because she had only stabbed herself in the throat and hadn't tried to cut off her head. So when Igris gave her first aid, aside from getting covered in blood, there weren't any other problems.

Strangely, even though her injury didn't involve her brain, Isabella still fell into a coma, and for much longer than usual.

Igris once asked the doctor if they had accidentally given her too much anesthesia, but the doctor's answer put her at ease.

The doctor said... she was overwhelmed with grief.

This is probably why Igris is still here; she plans to wait for Isabella to wake up so she can have a good talk with her about her somewhat awkward, even twisted, emotional issues.

"Hey."

"..."

The soft call drew Igris's gaze to Isabella, who was lying on the bed.

Her dark red hair was draped over the bed, the stubbornness and strength on her face had disappeared, and her smart clothes had been turned into a hospital gown, losing their former sharpness and leaving only a sense of disarray.

They looked so pitiful.

Why are you looking at me like that?

"nothing."

Igris silently withdrew her gaze and looked out the window again, but was suddenly grabbed by the collar by Isabella, who was lying on the bed.

"It's not like I'm stopping you from looking; it's okay if you look a little more..."

Despite her assertive actions and authoritative tone, the hesitation and unease in her eyes completely betrayed her inner thoughts.

Igris did not resist, and looked directly at Isabella with her face almost touching hers.

Her hand slowly loosened, and her expression became somewhat strange, with a slight blush.

Perhaps it was Igris's overly direct gaze that made her uncomfortable, and she eventually took the initiative to look away and stop looking at Igris.

"Isabella, I want to talk to you."

"What are you talking about! What's there to talk about? Aren't you busy? Why are you standing here waiting... I'm fine now, you should leave."

Isabella spoke quickly, her eyes darting around, avoiding eye contact with Igris.

She didn't want to talk about it because she knew what she had done and what Igris' decision was.

But now, she can pretend nothing happened, pretend she knows nothing, and then let everything go back to normal.

She didn't want to talk about it, and she absolutely couldn't talk about it.

Isabella.

"You're so annoying! I'm a patient, and patients should be resting and recovering. Why do you keep bothering me... Can you leave? I want to sleep, or do you want to stay here and watch me sleep? Actually, I don't really want to..."

I don't like you.

……

The Fools of the Gods—Regret: Chapter Thirty-Five, Bipolar Disorder

"..."

Silence became Isabella's last unspoken words, carrying an intense, suffocating sorrow that filled her half-open mouth.

A cold wind blew through the warm room, telling of her sorrow and her last shred of self-respect.

"So what..."

Isabella didn't look up, nor did she have the courage to look at Igris; she simply immersed herself in her own world.

She thought she was dead, but she wasn't. She thought the Igris in front of her was just an illusion, but she wasn't. She thought that with all her efforts, she would surely get a good response.

But she got nothing.

Even if she gets nothing, she still keeps her head down in silence, unwilling to raise it.

Igris sat on the edge of the bed, looking into her downcast eyes, just as she looked into the white sheets and white hospital gown covering herself.

“I’m serious, Isabella.”

“So what? Igris, I don’t care about your opinions or your feelings, understand? You can declare your victory and enjoy the superiority of being loved... instead of coming here to continue attacking me and tearing my last shred of dignity to shreds.”

Isabella curled up, buried her face between her legs, and became silent.

She might be crying, but no one can see it, and she will never want anyone to see it again.

"I did not mean that."

"What does that mean? I have nothing more to say to you. You already know everything I'm trying to say. The decision to stay or leave has always been in your hands, because you know that even if you just turn around and leave, as long as I'm alive..."

Her voice paused for a moment, as if she were suppressing her grief and not wanting Igris to hear her mournful tone.

"As long as I live... I will continue to follow behind you, trying to catch up with you."

“…Isabella, I'm not worth you doing this for. You deserve your own…”

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! What more do you want from me!"

In a fit of rage, Isabella threw a pillow from the bed at Igris, hitting her face with a dull thud.

She no longer wanted to hide, nor did she want to wear that mask and pretend that nothing had happened, and then grieve alone.

"Igris, what more do you want from me? I finally accepted the fact that you rejected me, and now you come here and say some nonsensical things... What? Are you going to take away even my right to like you?"

"..."

Igris didn't speak; she didn't know what to say.

She had never experienced any of this, but she knew that she couldn't agree to Isabella's request, nor could she watch her sink into despair.

Only by leaving Igris can she transform back into the confident phantom thief she once was, the raven that yearns for freedom.

But she... seemed to have no other choice.

Igris didn't know what she should do or what she could do. She was in no better shape than anyone else, let alone have to worry about other people's feelings.