The merman, my man

Chapter 208

“It’s very unstable, Linda. It’s turning back into a tail again—I need a place to hide.“ Dicken watched

me, even as he spoke quietly in Mermish that I could understand perfectly.

I did a double take as I watched him. Those were the first words I had heard from him after so many

years. At once familiar and unknown, his voice left my whole body trembling.

Dicken patted my hand with his leather-gloved hand then, and it soon slithered down to my nose and

then my lips as he spoke raspily, “Do you still fear me now?“

Nonetheless, I said nothing and simply grabbed his mask, firmly tearing off his face. It did not change

despite his transfiguration: pale, handsome, and with pronounced facial bones. However, the upper tip

of his ears resembled plant shoots slowly

growing out of the ground, and while such an appearance could be a little frightening to other humans, I

found it absolutely adorable, even funny.

I couldn’t help giggling then, and tugged at his ears as if playing with a big dog. He wrapped his arms

tightly around my waist as if in punishment, and pointedly bit me on the chin. Sensitive, I promptly

shrunk my neck just as loud footsteps echoed above us—this was obviously not the place for a tryst,

and I glanced at the complex sewers before asking, “ Dicken, do you know where we can go?“

Dicken did not respond, but he had to be familiar with the sewers of Venice.

After all, even as he kept his back to me, we were swiftly walking through the maze -like sewers. He did RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

not hesitate to step through each turn and junction, as if he was born there.

And judging from that alone, he must have been moving around this place. In fact, this might well be

his secret base that kept his unstable human form hidden.

I leaned on Dicken’s body, watching as the tip of his ears turned sharp, reviving my long-faded curiosity

as a biologist even as I couldn’t help wondering how he had changed his appearance.

Was it his own ability that altered his physical structure? Or perhaps he had discovered some drug that

he could use from the Nazis’ sunken ship that facilitated it? Still, it was unbelievable for a biologist

whether it was the former or the latter, but explainable if I categorized Dicken as an extraterrestrial

lifeform. In other words, we could not apply human logic to our race.

The only theory I had was Dicken’s journey over the last year or so: he had found out about the sinking

of the Nazi’s ship, but when David fished the crystals out of the sea by chance, he tracked the crystals

here to Venice, and hid here in other to gather them.

It must have been easy to gain recognition in the mafia-controlled underbelly of Venice given his

intelligence and ability. He infiltrated their organization by using the identity of Loyal, gaining trust as an

assassin, before using the opportunity to sabotage the deals between the mafia and the Germans to

seize the crystals.

In fact, I just had to consider it for a moment to decide that the rumor of an affair between Dicken and

Miya was mere rumors. Given that Dicken’s lower body was unstable, it was most likely hearsay,

spread by bored gossipers among the mafia.

After all, who could hate the tale of a scandalous love affair between a young and beautiful godmother

and an assassin?

F*ck! It’s all bullshit! I’m not interested in that stuff anyway—hell, who cares?!

Even as I told that in my own head, I couldn’t help remembering the way Miya looked at Dicken, and

how she leaned towards him to whisper into his ear. Rolling my eyes, my hands that were wrapped

around Dicken’s long, firm neck that was covered under his thick black hair. Like a tame, oversized cat

sprawled over a gigantic piece of sashimi.

The gigantic sashimi seemed to feel my dependence as well, and loosened his shoulders as he walked

so that I could be more comfortable as I lay over his back, and thought to myself: this explains why

Dicken didn’t come looking for me for over eighteen months. He was carrying out his clandestine plans

to ensure the future of the merfolk race, and as leader, he had to put aside his personal relationships—

he did not have time to care where I was, which was why I couldn’t find him.