In the room renamed as the confinement chamber, Dazai temporarily left Hyakki there.

He played with Yumeno.

“Big Brother Doll, you haven’t visited me in so long!”

Yumeno warmly approached, and even the cursed doll in his embrace lost its allure upon seeing a living person; he realized the dolls his parents bought him weren’t as good-looking as Big Brother Doll!

Hyakki stood behind the door, fumbling to open it, eager to see “Dororo” and not miss this child!

“I can’t open it.”

Yumeno said from behind him, “Only Mr. Mori and Brother Dazai can open this door.”

“Dororo!”

Hyakki tried several times, gave up, and emitted an expressionless aura of grievance. Just last night, he was so attached, helped him bathe, touched every part that could and couldn’t be touched. Who would have thought that before the honeymoon phase ended, the other person would leave him in a bandit’s den to accompany a child.

Yumeno cautiously grabbed his yukata’s hem, looked down to see the skin on his thighs.

“Big Brother Doll’s bandages are gone. Did new skin grow?”

The child tentatively touched his skin.

Hyakki picked him up and put Yumeno in the corner, then sat down in the farthest corner diagonally, hugged his knees, and entered a state of mental withdrawal.

Yumeno pouted, “You’re only good to Brother Dazai. Be careful you don’t get abandoned and unwanted!”

The misaligned brat dared to utter this sentence:

“I didn’t have dinner today.”

Dazai touched his earphones, coldly smiled inwardly; it wasn’t Yumeno’s turn to badmouth him yet.

He continued interrogating Bai Lan, not intending to let him off easily.

Bai Lan grimaced, “Don’t look so fierce. I know your reputation. No enemy can keep a secret from you.” It was thrilling to tease Dazai, but if things went wrong, it would be disastrous. This person wasn’t like Nakajima, who was easy to bully even in adulthood.

“Do you want to lose a hand, a foot, or your spine?” Dazai’s gun barrel moved casually. “Take your pick. If you try to fool me like you did with Rokodu, I’ll turn you into Hyakki.”

Dazai spoke politely, without a hint of profanity.

Bai Lan surrendered, raising his hands. “I know a suitable example from your Hong Kong black market!”

Dazai remained indifferent. “Mr. Mori and Yumeno are off-limits.”

Bai Lan choked. He hadn’t even mentioned their names, yet how did Dazai immediately associate them with his superiors and the child?

“I swear, this time the target won’t need to be killed twice…”

Bai Lan tried to deflect the gun barrel. Damn it, how did this guy aim at an Italian’s crotch?

Dazai cut to the chase. “State the name.”

Under the threat to his bodily organs and male dignity, Bai Lan turned green, and in one breath, he blurted out the name of the famous French poet from a parallel timeline:

“Jean Nicolas Arthur Rambo!”

Dazai lowered his gun barrel, and a hint of depth appeared on the bandaged face.

“This person…”

Rambo? In the Hong Kong underworld, a name close to that is Lan Tang.

“Yes, yes! He has a cold and melancholic face, sharp eyes that seem to pierce through this hypocritical world!” Bai Lan swiftly offered his description of the poet.

“…,” Dazai didn’t know where to begin with this.

“Once is enough,” Bai Lan swore. “This man is dead; he doesn’t even count as human!”

Dazai smirked, “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

Facing the cold gaze of the underage mafia, Bai Lan grinned awkwardly, “I was just curious how Bai Qilin would react to meeting Hyakki. From your attitude, I guessed… Seseke must have said something provocative, given his character… Probably something perverted or obsessive.”

Dazai looked disgusted, “Listening to you, I’m relieved they never met in parallel dimensions.”

Bai Lan nodded. With Dazai being such a pervert, how could they possibly have met?

Dazai said, “I think you’re insulting me.”