Premature

Evernight City, 9.30 p.m.

The moon shone brightly, casting a silvery glow over the entire city. It was as if a celestial being had draped a silky veil over the night sky, and the stars twinkled like diamonds against the dark canvas of the universe. The moon's light illuminated the streets, casting long shadows from the tall buildings and trees, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. The tranquillity of the night was only interrupted by the distant sound of crickets and the occasional passing of a car. The beauty of the sky and the moon was a sight to behold, and it left a feeling of serenity in the hearts of all those who gazed upon it.

As the night deepened, the world seemed to slow down and the only sounds that could be heard were the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.

In the distance, couples could be seen strolling hand in hand, their laughter and whispers floating on the breeze. Some had found a quiet spot to sit and gaze up at the moon, while others leaned in close to whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears.

The entire city was enveloped in a romantic aura, as if love was in the very air they breathed. And who could blame the teenagers for giving in to the allure of the night? With the moon as their witness, they surrendered to the passion and affection that seemed to come so naturally under its spell.

In one of the alleys connected to Lexing Street, a couple was seen to be in the middle of making out. The boy was pushing the girl against the wall and pressed his lips over her neck, slightly panting.

The girl on the other hand looks flustered. "Did you just hear the sound of an explosion just now?"

"Huh? You could hear that?" The boyfriend was stunned.

"Yeah, it was pretty loud. I wonder what it was." The girl said softly.

'The sound seems to be coming from Lexing Street' was what she initially wanted to say. But, ultimately, she swallowed the words back when she noticed a gloomy look on her boyfriend's face. "What's wrong?"

He looked pleased and satisfied just a while ago. What's wrong with him?

"Nothing." The boy replied in a grumble and buried his face deeper at his girlfriend's neck to seek comfort and hide his embarrassed face.

Obviously, he couldn't tell his girlfriend that he had just ejaculated despite only kissing her for a minute. He didn't want to be labeled as a man who suffered from premature ejaculation, alright?

Anyway, he was probably too excited since it was the first time they french kissed, and it had nothing to do with premature ejaculation!

The good side is, even if he suffered a premature ejaculation, his sperm was outstandingly powerful. It could be seen from how his girlfriend mistook his ejaculation sound to be an explosive sound, hahaha!

If his girlfriend could hear his thoughts, she may roll her eyes at his antics and say. "Retard,"

The man was lost in his own thoughts when suddenly the ground beneath him started to vibrate violently. He watched in horror as a man burst through the soil with mad laughter, as if he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.

"Hahaha! You fools! You may think that you're better than me, but my experience is far beyond yours! I, Mortimer , will never forget this humiliation. When I come back for revenge, you better pray for mercy!" he shouted, his eyes filled with fury.

His anger was boiling over as he continued to mutter to himself, "How could I lose to a little girl? This is unacceptable! My ritual to offer my sincerity to the lord was also canceled due to this setback. How can I show my face to him like this?".

The man's appearance was beyond description. His skin was charred black, and it was clear that he had suffered horrific burns. The scars covering his entire body were evidence of his injuries. His head was completely bald, and his eyes were wild with madness. He was practically naked, with only a few tattered scraps of clothing hanging from his body. He looked as if he had survived a terrible fire or explosion, and his appearance was a testament to the incredible resilience of the human body. The couple could hardly believe that a human being could survive such injuries.

Without saying a word, the couple exchanged a look of fear before turning to flee.

"Hmm? A little pest dares to run away instead of cowering in my presence?" Mortimer was about to cast an illusion spell on the couple when he felt a metallic rust gushing through his throat. "Cough, cough, fu*k! Maybe next time. After I finish recuperating, I'll celebrate it by killing some mortals."

Abruptly, his face changed into something between madness and twisted.

He clutched his head tightly, trying to block out the incessant whispers that seemed to be coming from all around him. It was as if a thousand voices were all talking at once, each one trying to drown out the others in a mad cacophony of sound.

"Stop whispering to me you assh*le! I haven't died yet! I haven't lost yet!"

The man's eyes darted frantically around the alley, searching for some source of the maddening whispers. But there was nothing there, nothing but the cold, empty darkness that seemed to be closing in around him.

"I can hear you!" he screamed, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I can hear you, damn it! Leave me alone!"

But the whispers only grew louder, more insistent, driving him closer and closer to the brink of madness. He felt as if he were about to explode, as if his mind were about to shatter into a million pieces.

And then, suddenly, it was over. The whispers faded away, leaving him alone in the silent darkness once more. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm himself down.

But he knew that the whispers would be back. They always came back, and he was powerless to stop them. All he could do was endure, and hope that someday he would find a way to silence them for good.

After taking a break for a while, Mortimer started to examine his injuries. Previously, under the threat of getting discovered by the Arsonist, he didn't dare to slow down his digging and practically pushed his body to the limits. He was scared that death would be the one waiting for him if he went any second slower.

As Mortimer reflected on his successful plan, he couldn't help but think about the Enigma he possessed that played a crucial role in his victory. Without it, all his efforts would have been for naught. The temptation to admire the Enigma became too much, and he pulled it out of his pocket to plant a kiss on its surface.

"Louise's Gloves, you're my lucky star!" It was a pair of yellow gloves, frayed and worn out, but their power was extraordinary. With Louise's Gloves, Mortimer could dig the deepest holes and slice through the soil like a hot knife through butter. Their appearance may have been unremarkable, but their ability was undeniable.

That being said, when he first received the gloves as a reward for completing various tasks, he was outraged. He expected something more impressive, like a sword imbued with holy flames or a gun with special ammunition. He couldn't understand why the organization placed so much importance on a pair of seemingly insignificant gloves.

But now, as he clutched them in his hand, he realized how wrong he had been. Louise's Gloves had saved his life, and he couldn't wait to return home and polish them every day, treating them like a pair of newborn children.

"Anyway, I really got severe injuries this time."Mortimer's face twisted in pain as he clutched his chest, feeling the foreign energy coursing through his body. It felt like a swarm of angry wasps buzzing and stinging beneath his skin, and he knew that something was terribly wrong. However, he also knew that he couldn't remove the foreign energy from his body in his current weakened state. The energy felt like a curse, burrowing its way deeper into his flesh and veins with every passing moment, and he feared the consequences if he couldn't find a way to expel it soon.

"I must consult my master immediately," Mortimer muttered urgently to himself, wincing in pain as the foreign energy coursed through his body. He knew that time was of the essence, and any delay could worsen his condition. Furthermore, he could feel his mind gradually erode and it won't be long before he descends into madness if he doesn't treat it as soon as possible.

However, just as he turned to leave, a sudden surge of pain seized his body, causing him to double over in agony.

"N-no!" Mortimer screamed as his body began to swell and contort in an unnatural manner. Sparks crackled and leapt across his skin, and he felt like he was about to explode. The pain was unbearable, and he could feel himself losing control.

And then, without warning, the remnant of hellish flames exploded.

Boom!

The explosion was deafening, and it seemed like the world had erupted in a shower of flames, blood, and human meat. The alleyway was consumed in a horrific inferno, and the sound of Mortimer's screams was drowned out by the roaring flames. The smell of charred flesh and burning hair filled the air, and the sight was both mesmerizing and horrifying.

Mortimer's body lay broken and lifeless amidst the carnage, his skin blackened and charred beyond recognition. The foreign energy that had coursed through his body had unleashed a fiery explosion that had consumed him entirely. It was a gruesome and terrifying end to a man who had once been so full of life and energy.

...

"Explode!" The black-haired woman clenched her fist as she uttered the cry.

Boom!

Claude stood frozen as the explosion rocked the street, causing the ground beneath him to shake. He looked around, trying to locate the source of the blast, but couldn't see anything. The only indication of what had happened was the dust that had been kicked up by the force of the explosion.

"What was that all about?" Claude asked himself, his confusion growing with each passing second.

As he stood there, trying to process what had just happened, Claude heard a sudden whooshing sound. He turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of the black-haired woman dashing away from her position and heading in another direction.

Then, he heard the sound of sirens in the distance. The noise grew louder and louder, and he knew that the police were on their way.

"Oh great, just what I need," he muttered to himself.

He knew he couldn't risk getting caught up in whatever was going on, so he decided to head back to his dormitory.

"Who was that black-haired woman?" With a sigh, he turned and headed back to his dormitory, still mulling over the strange events that had just transpired.

...

In the dark alley, the stench of blood hung heavy in the air as Mortimer's body exploded into mincemeat. Suddenly, a slender figure appeared out of nowhere. It was the same black-haired woman that Claude had seen earlier in the night.

Despite the gruesome scene before her, the woman showed no sign of disgust or shock. Instead, she calmly blocked her nose with a handkerchief as she scanned the area. Her sharp eyes flitted around, as if searching for something specific.

After a few moments of searching, her gaze settled on a captivating object across the street from a garage door. The object was a beautiful mix of vibrant blues, pinks, and purples, resembling a nebula up in the sky. Its beauty was entrancing, but the woman didn't seem to care. She strode confidently towards it, undaunted by the whispers that seemed to emanate from it like a soft melody.

"A Phantasmal Fiends' Nebula. Not bad." The black-haired woman pursed her lips, her twisted smile revealing her satisfaction at finding the object. As she reached for it, her eyes landed on a pair of worn-out yellow gloves lying nearby.

The woman's eyes glinted mischievously as she picked up the gloves. "Hehe, who thought my decision to buy ice cream in the middle of the night would benefit me this much!" she chuckled to herself.

Stuffing the Phantasmal Fiends' Nebula and the gloves into her windbreaker's pocket, the woman's phone suddenly vibrated loudly.

There was a message on her phone.

"Your period of authorized absence has expired. Kindly make arrangements to report to the school administration tomorrow for further discussion."

...

After negotiating and pleading with the dormitory security, Claude was finally granted permission to enter. Despite the prohibition on students entering the dormitory after 9 p.m., Claude was in no mood to comply. He was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally.

He explained to the security that he had been caught in the middle of a fire accident and had been interrogated for a while. Initially skeptical, the security was convinced after seeing the state of Claude's appearance. He looked like he had narrowly escaped from a wildfire, with dirt-stained pants and a haggard face covered in specks of ashes from the incident with the black-haired woman.

As he walked in, the recollection of today's event finally dawned on him.

As he walked into the dormitory, the events of the day finally caught up to him. Claude had attended two classes in the morning and afternoon, getting roasted by the sun in between. Later that evening, he had become the target of online trolls. Lost in Lexing Street, he had stumbled into a terrifying illusion created by a black-cloaked guy, nearly losing his life. But then the black-haired woman had come to his rescue, setting up a sort of vengeance pit and summoning a vortex from nowhere to shower the pit with a fire missile. The resulting explosion razed the whole playground and attracted the attention of the police.

There were so many incidents that had happened in just one day that it was overwhelming for Claude. He was finding it difficult to believe that supernatural powers were involved, and he had not received any proper explanation from either the black-haired woman or the black-cloaked guy. But he was grateful to be alive at the end of it all, despite everything he had been through.