Samael, the Serpent of God - Chapter 1

“What happened to the previous doctors?”

I asked my mentor as I took Huo Zhi’s encrypted file from him.

He paused.

“They were hospitalized.”

I curled my lips. “That difficult?”

No wonder an ordinary civilian like me had been given a noble’s case.

My mentor sighed.

“Lieutenant General Huo suffers from severe alter interference.”

“The alter is extremely obsessive and possessive and a suspected tendency toward violence…”

“But if the treatment works, this will be the crowning achievement of your career.”

It would also be the test that determined whether a civilian from the Federation like me could establish a foothold at the Empire’s Royal Medical Academy.

“Understood.”

“At least the medical insurance will cover it.”

A few minutes later, in the treatment room, Huo Zhi sat across from me.

He wore civilian clothes—a white shirt with the cuffs rolled to mid-forearm, exposing the clean lines of his wrist bones.

“Wen Yu.”

His gaze swept over my name badge.

“Hello, Doctor Wen.”

Our eyes met, and we got down to business.

The fiercest noon sunlight faded into evening.

Huo Zhi made his request.

“Doctor Wen, I want you to kill my alter.”

I reminded him, “Mr. Huo, the standard treatment is integration. Killing an identity is the last resort.”

He pushed a diary toward me.

“Perhaps you don’t understand how bad he is.”

“My alter is planning to imprison an ordinary civilian girl.”

I turned the pages one by one.

The handwriting was the same as Huo Zhi’s, but the choice of words was completely different.

Huo Zhi himself was disciplined and ceremonious, never showing his emotions.

Like his handwriting, he was neat and restrained.

But every line in this diary seemed scorched by something feverish—slanted, hurried.

The tone was brazen, too.

“She’s so small… Her waist is so thin.”

“Can she take it?”

“Her neck is so slender. It would be easy to snap it… But I’d be careful. As careful as I could… I’d restrain myself.”

“I should make her cry, then comfort her. She’d be so beautiful when she cried. Just thinking about it makes me shamefully…”

The pages were filled with undisguised lust.

The latter half was packed with plans.

Cross-outs and revisions covered the pages.

Learn her schedule. Pay to compromise her apartment building’s security. Draw up multiple transfer routes. He had even prepared an isolated prison room in a star sector, completely cut off from interstellar signals.

I turned to the last page.

Only one word filled the page.

“Mine.”

“Mine.”

“Mine.”

The strokes were so forceful they nearly pierced the paper.

Two knocks pulled me back to reality. I snapped the diary shut.

“Sorry. Did I scare you?”

Huo Zhi asked politely.

Several times, I felt as though I could see through his courteous shell.

I could see the coldness in his bones.

“No. I asked you to tell me everything. It will help with the treatment.”

Huo Zhi gave a faint nod.

His eyes and brows were distant, utterly without warmth.

“Thank you for understanding.”

I still tried to explain that integration was the first option.

Huo Zhi spoke.

“Doctor Wen, that is an order.”

There was not the slightest softness in his tone.

I realized I had overstepped.

Without this treatment, I might never have had the chance to meet Huo Zhi.

I had climbed all the way from a border planet to the Empire.

It had cost me every bit of luck I had.

“Yes, Mr. Huo. I’ll draw up a plan.”

Then I asked my final question.

“Your alter has an extraordinary desire for this civilian girl.”

“She’s the crux of the problem. May I know anything about her?”

Huo Zhi apologized with his eyes.

“The alter doesn’t share memories.”

“I don’t know who she is.”

After thinking for a moment, he looked at me and offered a completely useless clue.

“Rabbits.”

“What?”

Huo Zhi produced a palm-sized rabbit plush from who knew where and set it down.

“My alter is especially fond of rabbit motifs.”

“Doctor Wen, think about why.”

The treatment time ran out.

Huo Zhi returned to the fleet to handle official business.

I had no idea how to proceed.

At the very least, I needed to speak with the alter face-to-face—to understand him, get a handle on him, and have a chance at taking the next step.

But whenever I thought about Huo Zhi’s build, I began to feel uneasy.

He was nearly six foot three. When he stood, it was like a mountain rising before me.

And he had an unfairly beautiful face.

Whenever he looked down at me from above, he wore a lazy, mocking expression, like Satan watching his prey.

Huo Zhi himself was polite and impeccable.

That didn’t mean his alter wouldn’t punch me flat.

Ugh.