"Don't... don't come over!"

I woke up from my dream, the scene of Late Flame killing five masked men kept repeating in my dreams.

I dreamt of him walking towards me with a short-handled axe, and then... he took off his mask in front of me, revealing a face that had been severely burned by fire.

I woke up in a fright and realized that I was covered with a soft blanket.

A gentle Alaskan dog was obediently lying by the bed, and it perked up and stuck out its tongue when it heard the commotion.

I heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom, so I followed the sound. Late Flame was taking a shower, and it seemed like this was my chance to escape.

I held my breath, quickly turned around, and accidentally knocked over the clothes rack next to the door.

The sound of water abruptly stopped, and Late Flame opened the bathroom door. He had already dressed in clothes that covered him completely, with everything tightly wrapped up.

Looking up, his brows and eyes were cold, his facial features were sharp and clean-cut. His long eyelashes were thick and curled when he lowered his gaze, his lips under the straight nose were lightly pursed, and his wet hair was dripping with water. His expression was cold and indifferent.

He looked quite different from the scarred murderer I had imagined. He had a face that inspired trust.

Perhaps it was because his brows and eyes resembled my father's a bit.

Equally handsome and sharp.

Late Flame suddenly patted my forehead, and I winced in pain and bent over, holding my forehead.

"Didn't your dad teach you not to stare directly at boys?"

I gave him a disdainful look, "My dad said that boys should be gentle to girls."

He grabbed a dry towel and walked past me, wiping his hair as he walked.

"What about your dad?"

I lowered my head and twiddled my fingers together.

"I don't know, maybe he's not around anymore."

Late Flame paused for a moment, rubbed the top of my head, and said, "It's okay, maybe you being alive is his greatest wish."

I don't know why I told him all of this.

I took a deep breath, turned around, and caught a glimpse of a wound on his left arm that was bleeding.

"Big brother, are you hurt?"

"Just a minor flesh wound, don't make a big fuss about it."

He casually opened the medicine box, pulled out some gauze, and started dressing the wound in front of the mirror.

"...Let me do it."

I took the medicine box cautiously and carefully tended to his wound.

He looked at me with an expression of disbelief, "Can you do it? You're just a crybaby when it comes to anything."

"Don't worry, my dad taught me before."

He curved his lips, "If you hurt me, I'll chop off your fingers."

I was so nervous that my hands were trembling. After all, he was a ruthless demon who killed without blinking.

Chopping off my fingers was definitely something he could do.

I finished bandaging the wound, and Late Flame swung his left arm to take a look, wrinkling his brow in disgust.

"Did your dad teach you this way? Can gauze be tied like this?"

My heart tightened, "It won't come off, so you can rest assured."

"Your dad taught you wrong."

My dad had taught me how to dress wounds many times before, but no matter what, I always couldn't tie the knot properly.

"Did your dad teach you to say thank you when someone saves you?"

"...Thank you, I owe you a favor, but I have to go home first."

After last night's night of slaughter, my friends and I each sought refuge in the homes of wealthy families. I didn't know how many of my friends from the slums were still alive.

"If you go out now, there's only a dead end."

Late Flame's voice came from behind me, and I froze in place.

"Hasn't the night of slaughter already ended?"

Late Flame picked up the remote control and turned on the TV, switching to the news channel.

As usual, the news was filled with reports of the night of slaughter. The death toll had reached over a hundred, and the city was in a state of panic.

"The night of slaughter has ended, but the aftermath is just beginning. The city is on high alert, and the police are conducting investigations. Many people are being questioned, and the authorities are urging residents to stay indoors and report any suspicious activities."

I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized the gravity of the situation.

"You can't go home now. It's too dangerous. The police will be on high alert, and they'll be searching for survivors or anyone involved in the night of slaughter."

I sank down onto the sofa, feeling a sense of despair creeping over me.

"What am I supposed to do then? Stay here forever?"

Late Flame turned off the TV and sat down beside me.

"No, you won't stay here forever. But for now, it's safer for you to stay with me. I have resources, connections. I can protect you."

I looked at him skeptically, unsure whether I could trust him.

"Why are you helping me? What do you want in return?"

He sighed and looked at me with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I don't expect anything in return. I know what it's like to be alone, to have nowhere to go. I just want to help you, to keep you safe."

His words touched something deep inside me, and I felt a glimmer of hope.

"Okay, I'll stay. But only until things calm down. Then I want to go home."

Late Flame nodded, his expression serious.

"I understand. Your safety is my priority. We'll figure out a plan together."

I couldn't believe that I was putting my trust in a man who had killed without mercy. But in that moment, I had no other choice. I had to rely on him to survive in this dangerous world.

And so, I stayed with Late Flame, the scarred murderer with a face that inspired trust. Together, we navigated the aftermath of the night of slaughter and worked towards finding a way for me to return home.