Juliet knew she couldn’t punch Jacob silly and kill the bastard. Maybe, if she activated the Forbidden Technique that Jacob had taught her. But even then, it was just a maybe. And for all she was insanely angry with Jacob, she knew there was no messing around until the Plague Doctor was on a leash.
She felt all the emotions Jacob was experiencing through the Ancestral Bond. It was as if the man had always waited for such an occasion, almost relishing it. There was rotten sweetness in Jacob’s happiness at the moment, something good, but with a terrible aftertaste.
And she knew it was because the Plague Doctor was a monster. It was simple and easy to describe the problem. He was a goddamn monster. There. Easy.
But would he make their life easier?
Most likely, yes.
And what would that accomplish?
Well, first of all, was that even important? Was it important that the Plague Doctor could help? Should they really allow such a person to live after he killed millions, if not more.
Juliet had trouble even imagining those numbers and what they really meant. Her brain was not used to relate to such a scale. Sure, you could see death and murders on televisions, but it was something completely different compared to the show she had assisted to today. She had seen people die on the streets and…
There was one thing that really bugged her mind.
St. Liam was a ghost city, yes. But there was some sparse foot traffic here and there, and she could also make out some people behind the blinds of the windows. They were all looking at the diseased, the people that would die, almost for sure. They looked at them, and no one got close.
No one.
Bob had been a great exception up until she discovered he was the one causing that.
So, the real question was not about efficiency or whatever was going on in Jacob’s mind.
The real question was:
Do you want someone who can spread not just diseases, but despise among people? The Plague Doctor had planted the seed of distrust, fear, cowardice. And those were all things that could damage society much more than a simple plague, weren’t they?
So, in Juliet’s eyes a clear picture was forming.
A monsters, caged – but still a monster – who would spread the same negative emotions and bring humanity down. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t kill people on his own. The simple fact that he was going to help meant that they were already compromising, that they accepted that if someone could kill more enemies than the humans he already killed, he was going to be a good pick.
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And it was terrifying. It was terrifying in the way few things can be.
It’s not an evident dreadful enterprise, but it’s like slowly boiling a frog. Or like corrupting yourself bit by bit. If you become more corrupted by taking a choice, the next choice to be taken will fall in the ‘more corrupt’ version of you, not the one currently doing the thinking.
And Juliet feared that Jacob—
“No, Juliet. I know what you are thinking. I know what you are feeling. And no. The answer to that is no. I lived so long and you think I never met an opportunity similar to this one? Or that I can’t think for myself? The Plague Doctor is a monster, but he’s still human. A psychopath, maybe, but one who could do good. He’s not The Necromancer or The Eater, beings that are so far gone the only thing you can do is to kill them.”
“In my defense, I do think of this like a game. Maybe that can make it more relatable to you,” Bob argued with his own piece. “I wouldn’t mind exterminating every single living creature, but that’s just the optimal goal. If I can kill all the bad guys, it’s like taking a silver medal for me.”
Juliet felt rage.
A little black spark appeared among her flames for an instant. No one noticed, not even Jacob.
It was the same rage she had felt and meditated on, the same rage she felt hers. It was the same rage she had denied herself because she had thought that they needed her Golden Flames.
But now, what if they didn’t?
What if once Bob was on board, she could freely express herself?
“I see that you are seeing the pros,” Jacob said slowly with a hard stare.
Being selfish was always bad. Especially if you could be selfish enough to become strong enough to save humanity.
“Are you communicating with some mind thing that I’m missing here?” Bob asked surprised while looking back and forth between Jacob and Juliet.
The Plague Doctor was an extremely perceptive person. Sure, it didn’t take a genius to understand that some kind of silent communications had been going on between the two. But something was amiss. They had been talking as if the other had just said something when no words had been exchanged.
“It’s none your business,” Juliet said.
Bob raised his hands and shrugged. Beggars couldn’t ask questions, could they?
“So, are we waiting for something in particular or…” Bob was the Plague Doctor, but that didn’t mean he didn’t experience tiredness and lack of sleep. He had been working really hard to kill the entire city until now. So, he was actually looking forward getting some rest.
“The Soul Contract will take at least an entire day, if not more, to be written down. The Vermillion Tyrant is coming, probably together with the Devil Queen. Once we have both, I’ll leave the Vermillion Tyrant to keep an eye on you and I’ll work on the Soul Contract to make sure you don’t have any loopholes to make other innocent people suffer.”
“I’m not going to run,” Bob yawned. “You have already zeroed in on me once, and the Blade Tyrant wouldn’t be so stupid to not mark me with whatever he’s capable of, would he?”
Jacob narrowed his eyes.
He had indeed used a very simple and effective technique to make sure that even if Bob escaped, he would find it again. It was something he had come up with years ago to chase The Necromancer.
“Sword Qi changed into a very small spark, basically impossible to remove from your own aura unless you willingly tear apart your own aura and Qi, which would make you weaker until you restore them. It’s a neat trick. It’s not hard to figure it out once you notice, but that doesn’t really change the result.”
“Yeah, it’s not the most pleasant experience,” Bob said while stroking his chin.