31. Unspeakable Talent

"Gulp."

Time and space seemed to have come to a complete standstill; only that tiny sound of swallowing was exceptionally clear.

The moment she snapped back to her senses, Tara jerked back, retreating from his side in a panic.

"I... I suddenly need to use the restroom. You keep painting, I'll be right back."

With that, she bolted out of the studio like a streak of light.

The entire room fell into a sudden, heavy silence.

A moment later.

Killian raised his hand and lightly touched the tip of his nose. In his eyes, usually as calm as an ancient well, a nearly imperceptible smile flickered.

"Phew—"

In the restroom, the sound of water splashed against the sink. Tara scooped up a handful and dashed it against her face, letting out a deep breath.

That was foul play,

she thought.

A comment Cassie had once made involuntarily popped into her head:

Killian has a face that looks like it would feel really good.

Thinking about it now, those words were absolute gospel truth.

Even a casual movement from him possessed an absolute aura of control that made people want to commit a crime.

She didn't dare imagine how terrifying it would be if he used this "talent" to do something truly debauched.

Whether it was the person being seduced or the one being marked, no one would ever be able to escape his grasp, right?

Tara felt her scalp tingle. She didn't dare think further.

Fortunately, Killian was a very self-restrained and disciplined person.

So, even if he had this "talent," he certainly wouldn't do anything as psychopathic or crazed as a "sickly" obsessed man.

Besides, if she actually became his official girlfriend, she’d have the chance to slowly train him.

Killian was so refined; he would definitely listen to her.

Good lifestyle habits, a healthy body and mind—everything could be cultivated bit by bit.

At this thought, she relaxed slightly. She shook the droplets off her hands and prepared to leave.

However, right then...

Tap, tap, tap.

Faint footsteps echoed, gradually becoming clearer.

Could it be that Killian had finished early and come out to find her?

She stepped out to take a look.

But in that exact second, a dark shadow lunged in. With lightning speed, a hand clamped firmly over her mouth.

Vibrate—

His phone buzzed.

Killian put down his brush and looked at the lifelike strawberry on the paper—a far cry from his previous attempts. He casually tore the page off before pulling his phone from his pocket to check the message.

The moment he saw the sender, his gaze softened ever so slightly.

Tara: [Killian, I think my period started and it's hard for me to move. Can you bring me my bag? I have tissues and pads in there... #Awkward #Awkward]

[I'm in the ladies' room right next to Studio A617. Don't go to the wrong one! #Heart #Heart]

Looking at the message, Killian scanned the room and indeed spotted her bag under the easel table.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the bag and walked quickly toward the restroom she mentioned.

"Tara?"

A moment later, Killian stood outside the restroom and called her name.

There was no answer.

He raised his voice slightly: "Tara, are you in there?"

Just as the words left his mouth...

"Mmph—"

A familiar but suppressed, soft muffled groan rang out. Though it was fleeting, Killian sensitively caught the underlying note of terror.

His sharp, dark brows knitted together, and his gaze instantly darkened. Without further hesitation, he stepped inside toward the stalls.

"Tara?"

He repeated her name calmly, but his hawk-like eyes, cold as a chilled scalpel, locked onto the last two stalls. He walked to one and shoved it open.

In the next second, the girl appeared before his eyes in a wretched state.

Her hair was a mess, her body was tied to the toilet so she couldn't move, and her lips were sealed with transparent tape.

But she was staring at him intensely, her brows furrowed in panic and anxiety as she shook her head at him repeatedly.

He narrowed his eyes, understanding her meaning almost instantly.

However, in the next moment...

Crash!

The stall door behind him burst open. A dark shadow lunged out, raising an iron bar and swinging it through the air toward him.

Thud!

Bam!

A dull sound of impact followed.

The successful ambush the attacker expected didn't happen.

Tara watched with wide eyes as Killian spun around with lightning speed and delivered a brutal kick that sent the man flying. The force was so great the man actually knocked over the toilet in the stall.

But Killian gave him no room to breathe. He charged in, his long leg delivering a series of vicious kicks.

In this moment, the usually elegant and noble young man was like an asura from hell—bloody and violent.

Tara was paralyzed by the shock of the scene.

But before she could see more...

Whack!

A heart-wrenching pain exploded from the back of her head.

Tara let out a muffled groan. Her vision went black, and before she lost consciousness completely, the last thing she saw was another dark figure standing behind Killian.

That night, the university was turned upside down.

The piercing wail of police sirens echoed through the entire campus.

The Arts Building was cordoned off with yellow tape.

Shaun and Shaun (friends) passed by while following the gossip. Curious, they squeezed through the crowd and poked a student.

"Hey, what happened? Why are there so many cops?"

"What was with the ambulance that just left? Was someone hurt?"

The student leaned in with a look of lingering fear. "I heard a criminal case happened. Two students were hurt, a girl and a boy. There was so much blood."

"Oh, you probably know the guy. It was our school hunk, Killian. You know him, right?"

Hearing this, Shaun and Shaun both turned pale. "Who? Who the hell did you say that guy was?"

3:00 AM, Central Hospital.

The counselor for Computer Science Class 1, the Dean of the Engineering School, the President, and various school leaders were gathered outside the ward with worried faces, constantly discussing something.

Inside the ward, Sean, Shaun, and Shaun kept a grim vigil over the unconscious Tara and Killian.

"The investigation is clear. The suspect is a social drifter with mental illness. He'd been hanging around the school for a while. He usually acted normal and was mistaken for a student, but today he just snapped for some reason."

The assistant, Ken, reported to Sean with a serious expression. "This isn't an intermittent mental illness, sir. I'm afraid it will be difficult to sentence him."

"Mental illness..."

Sean repeated the words and suddenly laughed, though the sound was completely devoid of warmth.

"What a coincidence."

"Besides, so what if he's mentally ill?"

As he spoke, his gaze swept over the pale Tara on the bed and Killian, whose head and hand were wrapped in bandages. On his usually roguish face was a cold, ruthless intensity he had never shown before.

"If I say he dies, he dies."

"You two stay here and watch them."

He finished speaking and left the room.

Ken glanced at Killian on the bed and gave a slight nod to the other two. "I'll leave the Boss in your care. Thank you."

He immediately followed after Sean.

The night deepened.

The counselor and Shaun, who stayed behind, had both fallen into a weary sleep or were dozing off.

Tara slowly opened her eyes amidst the intense pain. Turning her head slightly, she saw Killian’s pale, handsome face in the next bed.

Aside from the pain in her head, her arm throbbed agonizingly.

But this pain was an unearned catastrophe for him.

Tara couldn't help it; her eyes gradually reddened.

It hurt so, so much. She didn't dare imagine how much worse it was for Killian, since all the wounds had actually fallen on him.