Deviant: No Longer Human-Chapter 801: Beating Eveline: The Day a Goddess Learned Fear! (5)
Eveline’s lips trembled violently.
The room had fallen into a cold, breathless silence. Wang Xiao stepped back a few paces, turning away from her as if he were finished.
For a moment, Eveline stared at his back, her thoughts snapping between terror and desperate hope.
In the last ten minutes, she had died more times than she could count.
A hundred? More?
Her body couldn’t tell anymore.
And now... was he letting her go?
Her fingers twitched, a small, cunning smile flickered on her pale face, barely there, but real.
If he was turning away...
She pushed herself upright with a rustling of half-healed bones. The sound alone made the others in the villa shudder.
Her steps were uneven, scraping, but determined.
Everyone’s eyes followed her as she moved toward the main door, nobody daring to speak, nobody daring to interrupt.
She reached the threshold.
Her skin began to regenerate...
Flesh returning...
Hair reforming... 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎
Her head fully intact—
Then her skull burst apart with a sharp pop.
Her body collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings.
Wang Xiao didn’t even glance back.
"Oh... almost forgot to mention," he said casually, smiling over his shoulder. "You’ll die once every minute from now on. Consider it... encouragment."
Eveline’s skeleton twitched, reformed, then collapsed again, dragging itself forward by its fingers in a horrifying crawl.
No one stopped her.
Wang Xiao walked past her remains with a faint smile, leaving the villa as if nothing unusual had happened.
Whether he was chasing her or simply bored, nobody wanted to guess.
Only once he was gone did someone breathe again.
"Fuuu.... that was terrifying..." Wang Xueying exhaled shakily, finally letting cold air back into her lungs.
Her casual tone made Wang Jiarong stare at her in disbelief.
"Just terrifying...?"
Jiarong’s voice shivered, she looked ready to faint. Her lips had lost all color, and shinning tears to the corners of her eyes.
Xueying blinked, then turned and saw the state of her sister. Right, Jiarong had never seen anything close to this.
"He wouldn’t do that to you," Xueying muttered, trying to sound reassuring.
"Stop panicking..."
But even she wasn’t confident when she said it.
She walked upstairs with forced calm, but inside, a knot twisted in her stomach.
Mary, standing quietly to the side, watched both sisters with a thoughtful frown.
Wang Xiao never acted without reason.
Even his cruelty had... structure.
Purpose.
But today?
Today felt different.
"Hmm... Miss Yue, what are you doing with that?" Mary asked, noticing movement.
Yue had marched into the kitchen, grabbed something, and was now heading upstairs holding... A spatula?
Caught, Yue froze, then turned with a quiet smile.
"Ah... this? I’m going to beat Wenxi. She hit me last time I woke up."
"...."
Mary was speechless.
She had been analyzing psychology, motives, divine cruelty...
Meanwhile, Yue wasn’t thinking that deeply; she simply wanted to return the beating her sister gave her after she slept with Wang Xiao last time.
Yue hummed softly to herself as she climbed upstairs, completely unfazed.
Mary rubbed her forehead.
’Think less,’ she warned herself. ’You’re just a servant. Thinking is not worth the headache.’
Still, before leaving, she placed a steadying hand on Wang Jiarong’s back.
The girl flinched.
Mary spoke quietly, seriously:
"Everyone isn’t as calm as they look, Miss Jiarong. They simply know when not to show it. As long as you don’t follow Miss Eveline’s path... nothing like that will happen to you."
Before Jiarong could respond, Mary walked away.
The words like a cold hand on her spine.
Later that day, when Jiarong finally learned who Eveline truly was, and why she received such punishment, she sucked in a sharp breath.
Her torture under Sophia, those painful days where she resisted and caused trouble...
She realized something chilling:
Wang Xiao had been merciful to her.
Generous, even.
Everything she endured was barely a fraction of what could have happened.
He had been liberal with her.
As long as she spoke carefully, acted carefully, she was safe.
But still... Her chest tightened.
All of this could have been avoided if he had simply told her who he was earlier.
Looking for an answer, she couldn’t help glancing at the person in front of her, who seemed far too busy to respond.
Wang Xueying sat cross-legged on her bed, her loose satin robe slipping off one shoulder as she dried her hair with a towel. The soft yellow lamp beside her cast a warm glow over her room, messy makeup brushes, discarded dresses, and perfume bottles scattered like battlefield relics.
"Oh... that?"
She sighed, adjusting the belt of her robe before it fell open."You’re thinking too normally, sister. Brother isn’t normal. Some people enjoy watching others suffer..."
Wang Jiarong, sitting on the couch by the window in a pair of denim shorts and a white tank top, rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt.
"Sadist," she muttered.
For once, Xueying didn’t argue.
She simply shrugged, pushed off the bed and stood, slipping into a deep wine-red dress, slim waist, flared hem, minimal jewelry.
"I’m heading out."
She grabbed a silver purse and checked her reflection.
She looked dazzling.
Much too dazzling for "picking someone up."
As she headed toward the door, she bumped into her mother, Xinyue Zhilan, who had just returned home.
Xinyue Zhilan, hair neatly tied, makeup light and elegant yet tired, one glance at her daughter in a stunning dress made her brows knit instantly.
"Where are you going?"
Her voice was calm but sharp.
"It’s almost night."
Xueying didn’t flinch. "Brother called me to pick him up, he is with Isabelle!"
A lie.
A lazy one.
She just wanted to drive the newest Pagani parked outside and feel the wind.
Zhilan’s eyes narrowed.
’Why is she dressed like it’s a date? Is she lying to me?’
She didn’t push further. The girl was grown now. Besides, she had other matters in mind.
When she climbed the stairs, she found Jiarong sitting rigidly on the bed, still in her tank top and denim shorts, clutching her pillow as if expecting divine judgment.
Her mother shut the door behind her.
"Sit properly."
Jiarong blinked. "I... am sitting?"
"Good." Xinyue Zhilan sat across from her and crossed her arms. "Now answer me honestly. Do you have a boyfriend? If yes, say it now so I don’t embarrass myself when arranging a match for you."
"What??" Jiarong stared at her, utterly blindsided. "Mom... what are you talking about?!"
"Your marriage," Xinyue Zhilan said as if discussing milk prices. "Or do you plan to rot in this house forever?"
"..."
Jiarong groaned, burying her face in the pillow.
"What’s wrong with staying here—"
Pak!
A sharp slap landed on her thigh.
"You’re the oldest! Your cousin Rui is already married, don’t you want your own home?"
"...Mom..." Jiarong whispered, cheeks heating with humiliation. She screamed inwardly, ’Her husband doesn’t even share her bed. Please don’t bring up Rui... she’s involved with your son... your entire family, actually!’
Xinyue Zhilan ignored her protests.
For half an hour she scrolled through profiles, businessmen, doctors, engineers, thrusting her phone into Jiarong’s face.
Jiarong finally snapped.
"Mom! Stop! Just close it! I can find a man myself!"
Xinyue Zhilan’s eyebrows rose.
"...Oh?"
Then she let a slow smile bloom.
Smug, faintly triumphant, as though her little harassment had reached its intended effect at last.
"So you do have someone. Good, bring him home tomorrow."
"..."
Jiarong looked like someone had stabbed her.
She had no one.
No boyfriend.
Not even a crush anymore, especially after discovering that her "crush" had been her own brother in disguise.
Unless... unless her mother counted him.
And he lived just a few rooms away.
She wanted to scream.
When her mother finally left, Jiarong collapsed backward onto the bed, pressing both palms over her face.
"Oh my god..." she groaned. "Just kill me."
She immediately called Wang Xiao.
He didn’t pick up.
"Of course," she muttered, hurling the pillow at the wall. "Of course you won’t answer!"
Then a horrible realization screamed on her.
Wang Mei was the clever one.
She had faked her marriage to the Eighth Prince, and now no one dared question her again.
"Someone give me a fake marriage certificate too..." Jiarong muttered, rolling across the bed like a dying shrimp.
Then an even worse thought froze her.
If she told her mother she was "seeing someone"...
...and that man was the Eighth Prince...
Her mother would definitely want to meet him.
Which meant—
Her mother would discover BOTH daughters had "brought home the same man."
Jiarong slammed her face back into the pillow, voice muffled and despairing:
"...I’m going to die. I can’t steal my younger sister’s husband..."
