Lars was crouched over the servant, holding his collar firmly.

“Tell me your name and position,” Lars demanded.

“I’m Carl… I’m an ordinary servant, really, that’s my real name.”

Does he think I suspect him to be a spy? Lars questioned. It was a reasonable assumption to make that a servant who suddenly ambushes their master with excessive fervour may be a spy, but he had asked simply because he was unaware and needed to know.

Whether or not Carl’s claim was to be believed was its own matter. He hadn’t spoken of his motives, so Lars wanted to know about that.

Lars asked, “Why did you attack me?”

Hatred suddenly arose in Carl’s eyes. If he wasn’t completely out of strength, unable to move a muscle, then he might have gone for another assault.

“You rotten bastard, you think I don’t know?”

“What?”

Carl clicked his tongue, “Victoria! After using her, you’re just throwing her away like a broken toy. You are scum and deserve to die or have your balls chopped off!”

How much am I going to suffer for the mistakes of my predecessor… Lars sighed internally. It really was one thing after another, curse his timing. Why couldn’t he have taken over a month ago before his other self chose infidelity?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lars prepared to end the conversation there. He had no reason to admit to it here, regardless of how Carl was related to Victoria. It was better for him to feign ignorance around those who weren’t directly involved.

“You’ll pay—I swear on my life you’ll pay!”

Lars ignored the last shouts of a man with no strength left. Rather than argue, he found the greater priority to be treating his own wounds and finding someone to deal with Carl. It was obvious that Carl wouldn’t be permitted to work here anymore and the police would be called.

In the end, that’s exactly what happened. The servants trained in first-aid helped take care of his wounds. Meanwhile, the family doctor was called over to ensure nothing fatal was inflicted and to prescribe medicine that could numb the pain; the police were also brought over, who placed Carl under arrest and took him in for questioning.

In the medical room, Lars was resting on one of the twin-sized hospital beds. Vanessa visited him early on to express her worries and concerns, while Damien and Charles were absent because it was better for them not to see him covered in bandages.

Leonard visited later on, having a quick conversation. He remarked how “Karma has finally caught up…” while also joking about this happening “On the first day of your rest…” It was quite the contrast compared to Vanessa, whose visit was encompassed by tears and an endless need to console her. Lars found the former much more preferable because it reminded him of receiving injuries on the battlefield and somehow going on to jeer each other over life-threatening wounds.

He ended up sleeping in the medical room, advised not to move around much so that the wounds wouldn’t open, and so he could remain easily accessible if they did. However, when Lars had slept for some time, not so comfortably because of the drastically reduced space, he didn’t expect to hear a voice in the middle of the night.

It was very faint and brief, only telling him two words: “Wake up.”

His eyes jolted open as near-pitch black met him. Lars could hardly see anything, but the faint moonlight shining through the window allowed him to trace the outlines. And he was incredibly lucky, since he was immediately able to notice the figure looming above him. Although, the weight pressed on top of him would have made him cautious regardless.

Considering his eyes had already opened in a conspicuous manner, Lars didn’t bother to pretend that he was still asleep. He immediately threw his weight up and to the side, forcibly shoving them off himself. He then hurriedly leaped up into a crouching position with his hands placed in front of him; at the same time, he reached for the carbide lamp by his bedside to turn it on.

A face was quickly revealed in the light. Lars found it familiar, realising that the person who had been sitting on top of him in the middle of the night was none other than Victoria. His eyes widened as confusion settled in, but he remained vigilant.

Is she really going to such lengths? Lars already thought of the obvious explanation. Unable to accept their break-off, she had used this opportunity while he was sleeping alone to make a move. But he couldn’t help but think that there was more to it after the incident with Carl.

This world had simply been too normal after arriving. There were discrepancies involved with his identity at first contact, but beyond that, absolutely nothing of note had happened. He couldn’t find a single clue or abnormality in which he could relate to the singularity.

Rhys had made mention of Deities and Demons before reaching the singularity. Furthermore, she emphasised the necessity of exploring while avoiding death. But what was there to kill him? So far, the most dangerous encounter was the knife-attack coordinated by Carl, but that was spurred on by mere jealousy! She couldn't have been referring to something so petty.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Perhaps his mind was becoming too sceptical, but Lars was starting to connect the dots. There was the strange inability for his other self to resist Victoria’s advances, even despite his own fierce rejection of infidelity as a moral principle; the sheer absence of supernatural or abnormal presences; the absence of life-threatening ordeals; how obsessed and desperate Carl had been; and then, this strange voice suddenly telling him to wake up so he could catch Victoria before doing something.

He may be overthinking it, or possibly even going mad, but Lars had an epiphany. The most suspicious person, who seemed to have everything revolving around her, was this young maid before him. Among the various traces to follow back, figuring out her true purpose for this late night visit was crucial.

Lars stared into Victoria’s scared eyes, demanding to know, “What are you doing here? Victoria… Why are you in this room?”

As her lips trembled, she shook with glassy eyes and a disparaged look. Her entire countenance became incredibly pitiful and a masculine urge to protect her, care for her, love her overcame any person watching. Lars' thoughts froze as he saw this; forgetting about Vanessa, his previous partners, Rhys, anyone else; not even the most beautiful models from various countries were capable of holding a candle to her.

There was nothing like being there in the moment, seeing someone you truly cared for and wished to cherish every little intimate moment with. Lars' memories surged as he recounted their passionate nights together as they embraced each other's bodies and entangled with each other. They were vivid, as if he had always been here—with Victoria.

His legs grew weak as he fell back onto the bed. At some point, Victoria joined him and held onto his shoulders. Despite the darkness and insufficient lighting from the moon, he could see her body clearly. A burning sensation filled his heart with vigour.

Then, he heard two words, resonating deeply in his soul: “Wake up.”

A moment of clarity struck Lars out of his trance-like state. He immediately realised the situation, becoming incredibly conscious of himself, the woman in front of him, and everything around him. Without letting this opportunity go, he shoved Victoria away with all of his strength.

When she fell backwards, the only thing there to catch her was the ground. The loud thud of her body hitting the ground seemed to flip a switch in Lars. The blackout only lasted a second—the rest of it was his own free will. He had grabbed the carbide lamp at his side and crashed downwards with it.

He swung with unparalleled force and caved the head in of his opponent. When it was kill or be killed, the person in front of him was no longer human—it was an object. It was an object and it was going to kill him, so he had to destroy it; the barrel of a gun; the turret of a tank; a grenade with its pin pulled; an improvised explosive; artillery raining down; the caved-in head of a young girl. Smash it in!

His whole body shook violently. Chest heaving up and down, he stood with his arms and chest tensed, his hand holding tightly onto the blood-stained lamp. The thing beneath him was no longer recognisable. No matter where he looked, he couldn’t find Victoria.

Lars stopped breathing. Everything became still, his world turning black. He started to forget who he was or where he was. A merging of memories messed with his head; the life of a young boy who starved and chose a life of grief and terror over hunger; the life of a self-made man, who brought up his own family after suffering in the war and achieving no small measure of feats. Both were unequivocally shaken by the horrors of war. Both were utterly terrified, seeking solace in good meals or a loving family, but unable to run from their own selves.

Two words spoke to Lars.

“Wake up.”

His eyes shot open, his breathing rough and heavy. Lars hadn’t even recognised his self-induced suffocation. As far as he’d known, he didn’t even know that you could hold your breath and simply refuse to continue breathing. But unfortunately for him, looking down revealed that the bloodied carcass was still there. He hadn’t woken up from a bad dream.

“Sh*t…” Lars exclaimed, “Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t…! God damn it!”

Lars was lucid enough to recount what had happened. Similar to the stress and grief he had felt after passing through the singularity, when the secrets of the universe had raced through his insufficient mind in an instant, the feelings Victoria induced in him weren’t his own. She really wasn’t normal or innocent. However, she was a young girl; he had brutally killed her in another uncontrollable outburst.

This was no different than his killing of Troels and Jensen. Perhaps this was worse even, since his justification had lessened further. Victoria didn’t have a weapon, no dangerous firearms, and yes, she was going to take advantage of him, but he easily overpowered her. It wasn’t necessary to go this far!

“I’m just a f*cking murderer. Nothing else, that’s all I am!” Lars shouted, not caring about being heard or not. He then recalled the voice. After hearing it, he had woken up. The next occasion, he was given clarity. In the final occasion, it was peace of mind.

Lars wasn’t sure when the voice would speak again. He wasn’t even sure if it was real; simply being an extension or manifestation of his consciousness, warning him about danger. However, he unexpectedly heard the voice once more. Hearing it clearly this time, the words were different.

“Go to sleep.”

Lars heard it, not understanding what it was trying to say. How could he sleep now? In this situation, only a psychopath could readily close his eyes and continue sleeping. But then his thoughts started to slow and his eyes grew drowsy. He fell back onto the bed, entering a deep sleep then and there.