Chapter 14: Brutal Correction!

Emma covered her face and suddenly turned to run away.

Louis did not chase after her; he merely watched coldly, for everything was already under his control.

Louis looked at his own palm.

Soon, Emma ran into the forest.

Damn, damn, damn…

Louis, I will definitely get revenge on you, get revenge on you, I will kill you, I will make you regret it.

Tree branches swept across her body, bringing sharp stings.

Emma paid no attention to these now; her mind raced frantically, thinking of how to get back at him.

No direct confrontation.

Frame him? Set him up?

Louis isn't an adult; some tactics won't work on him.

Assassinate him?

He has no hobbies, doesn’t like going out, no opportunity.

Poison him? No, I still want him to feel despair and fear!

Wait, Louis once said his family was unusual, so he couldn’t go back—then…

A sinister plan took shape in her mind.

Even now, she hadn’t realized she still hadn’t escaped the forest.

Only when she tripped over a tree root did she finally snap out of it.

She… seemed lost.

The sky darkened gradually; cold wind howled through the woods like venomous snakes slithering through the gaps in her clothes.

She instinctively hugged her arms, hid behind a tree, and began screaming.

But there was no response.

The empty, dense forest now held not a single living thing.

The sky finally plunged into darkness; she was cold and hungry, forcing herself forward, yet now she was like a headless fly.

She looked up, trying to find Polaris as science magazines described, but the sky was choked with clouds—nothing visible.

Huh～ huh～

The night wind grew stronger.

She shivered uncontrollably; this cold was something she had never felt before.

Soon, darkness swallowed everything; she could see nothing.

Rustle… rustle…

She cowered like a bird startled by a bowstring.

At this moment, she finally feared—she wanted to go home, to a warm room, to her father’s dinner, to someone talking to her…

Even Louis, that bastard, would do!

She wanted to cry, but then a wolf’s shadow flashed through the bushes—those green eyes confirmed she hadn’t imagined it.

She clamped her hand over her mouth, silent as stone, yet her eyes turned red with tears.

So scared, so scared, so scared, don’t want to die, don’t want to die!

Howl!

The wolf spotted her, lunged, bit down hard on her arm, blood gushing, tearing off a large chunk of flesh.

“Aaaah!!!”

Screaming!

Huh～

The gale blew; Emma flailed wildly, tears and snot streaming, her arm ruined—no, she was dying, so painful, so painful…

But then, suddenly, the pain lessened; when she opened her eyes, all was blank—no trees, no wild wolf, only Louis’s cold face and an endless cliff overlooking the sea.

She immediately touched her arm—unharmed—but the pain still felt real, her arm throbbing with phantom agony.

“I… I didn’t die? No wolf?”

“You really want to die?”

Louis’s voice came.

Louis looked at her with contempt, pointing at her face and the ground.

Emma froze, instinctively touching her face—only sticky fluid: snot and tears…

And below, a damp stain darkened the rock.

“Aaaah!!!”

Screams erupted again.

Louis instinctively raised his hand, but seeing her face, he lowered it with disgust, then kicked her—Emma instantly stopped screaming, frantically wiping herself.

“L-Louis, is it you again?”

“Of course.”

“Why? I didn’t even provoke you!”

Emma, now a muddy mess, stared at Louis with fear and hatred.

“You ask me why?”

“Don’t you see how wrong your behavior is?”

Emma shook her head blankly, then realized what Louis meant—“So you’re punishing me? What’s that got to do with you?”

Louis shook his head. “Heh, just say I couldn’t stand the sight of you. This is merely treatment.”

“Don’t worry—the treatment happens daily. Unless I see results, I’ll send you to the electric chair before I leave. Oh, by the way, what color electric chair do you prefer? Or what death method do you want?”

“Drown like an orange cat?”

“Break your neck like Emilia?”

“Or do you want to fall like you just imagined?”

“Take your time. Think. Choose.”

“I’ll be watching you. Heh.”

Louis walked up to her, smiling, and patted her shoulder.

Emma shuddered violently, trembling uncontrollably.

She looked at Louis as if he were a blazing demon of pure evil, reprimanding a lowly little demon like herself.

At this moment, the sea wind howled; two children, seven or eight years old, both wore expressions that sent a chill down the spine.

“I… I understand. I’ll change.”

She spoke in a faint voice.

Clearly, she still knew fear, knew how to submit.

But Louis sneered, utterly disbelieving her lies.

If antisocial evil children were this easy to fix, human biology would have made a giant leap!

But it doesn’t matter. As long as they’re not genetically irreversible anomalies, even children born with innate evil can be partially corrected through nurture.

Like so-called XXY males—they’re similar to evil children, just more prone to rage and emotional instability.

But future studies have proven XXY males can be guided postnatally to gain emotional control; by adulthood, they can behave nearly normally, only easily provoked.

But for Emma—someone born without reverence for life, indifferent to others—she needs animal-taming-style beatings and mental forging: artificial prohibitions and rules must be imposed.

Fortunately, the perfected Pulling Cotton Technique can achieve exactly this: tormenting her spirit without leaving a single physical mark—invisible, undetectable.

Looking at the pitiful Emma, Louis pointed to one side, telling her to wash her face.

Clap! Clap!

Hearing the sound, Melo stumbled to his feet, following them step by step.

Like a duckling blindly trailing its mother.

Soon.

They returned to the school’s small grove.

Louis then released his control over Melo.

I have to say, the perfected Pulling Cotton Technique is, to some extent, a true single-target illusion! Highly practical!

The only problem: optimal results still require drugs, and for adults or those with strong wills, the effect would be greatly diminished.

After all, if this technique were truly powerful, it wouldn’t have been reduced to child trafficking.

But for now, it’s sufficient.

Louis watched with a smile as Melo, still dazed, returned to his mother.

Then he looked at Emma, head bowed, silent and obedient, and smiled. “Come on. I look forward to your next performance.”

(End of Chapter)