F-Rank Soul Eater-Chapter 203: What Is this? oh... The Games Have started.

...Vinegar pulled Soren by the hand. "Come, come, its this way."

Instinctively, he followed her. Through the dimly lit cave to the wall of memories.

Then she pulled him to sit.

—leaning into him with her chest.

Her softness against his arm made his mind go numb.

He enjoyed the feeling. It was so good.

Even when it wasn’t, it was.

"Thank you." She whispered. Soren turned to her.

Instinctively, his fingers reached for her face. He brushed her orange hair aside, revealing the scar on her face.

As his fingers cupped her cheek, as her face leaned into his touch even more.

His eyes stared deep into hers. "I have... missed you."

"Me too," she muttered softly.

Soren’s brows frowned.

She looked up at him. "What? You are staring..."

"I’m sorry. I just can’t....

Do it again." Soren stated flatly.

"Huh?"

"When you changed the scene, and I saw Vinegar, I thought... this might not be so bad. But you ruined it. Her scar is on the wrong side of her face.

Do it again."

Both of them paused, eyes focused on each other.

And for a brief moment, the scar on one side of vinegar’s face disappeared, and appeared on the other.

Soren grinned. "Got you."

Before Vinegar could react in time, his dagger moved.

Schulll...

The dream shattered. Soren was in his room. Dagger in hand.

And before him, a creature. It bled from the long diagonal scar on its face.

Tip

Tap

Tip.

Tap.

The drops of green fluid struck the wooden floorboards one after the other, thick and viscous, each impact leaving behind a faint hiss as though the liquid itself was alive.

Soren’s grip tightened around the dagger.

His breathing was surprisingly even. And this was regardless of the fact that he had just been yanked out of the dream.

But to say he still did not feel the phantom warmth of Vinegar’s touch would be a lie.

A lie a part of him missed.

But before him—

It was a... thing.

A horror dressed in seduction.

Its lower body was that of a colossal serpent.

Its scales glistened a wet emerald green beneath the pale moonlight leaking through the dormitory window.

The coils dragged across the floor with a slow, sickly scrape, left a slick trail of saliva and slime in their wake.

Above the waist—

It was human.

Almost.

The upper torso took the shape of a woman with skin that was smooth and translucent, so faintly ethereal that Soren could almost see the shadow of the room through it.

Its chest—female—was bare, rising and falling in slow, exaggerated breaths, every motion unnervingly deliberate.

The body was beautiful in the way poison flowers were beautiful.

Mesmerizing.

Wrong.

Its skin shimmered faintly with the same green ectoplasmic hue as the blood leaking from the wound Soren had just carved across its face.

The heads that made Soren’s stomach turn.

Three of them.

Three feminine faces fused at the neck like a grotesque bouquet of temptation and death.

The central face was the one he had struck.

A long diagonal gash split across its cheek, green fluid spilling from the wound like glowing sap.

From all three mouths—

Saliva dripped.

Long strings of translucent green essence hanging from their lips before snapping and splattering against the floor.

A wet, hungry sound.

The creature blinked. All six eyes fixed on him.

Then the heads spoke.

Its voice was soft.

Almost affectionate.

"...you woke up, come, let me kiss you back... to sweet dreams."

Soren didn’t answer.

Instead, his hand rose instinctively to his ear.

His fingers touched something cold.

Sticky.

He pulled them away.

Green.

A smear of the creature’s saliva essence clung to his fingertips.

His expression darkened. "What sort of messed up shit do they have us fighting for the Winter games?"

Yes.

It had began. The Winter games.

.....

Three days and a week ago...

Soren approached.

Sophia and her two brothers, Jo and Bo proceeded from the hunting grounds.

The moment she saw Soren, she paused.

Turned away—trying to dodge. Her brothers helped guide her path of retreat.

But a figure from nowhere landed in front of her.

Cynthia.

Sophia slowly raised her head to this immovable figure.

Cynthia breathed—steam from her helmet.

The first to fall were Jo and Bo.

None could forget what cynthia had done to them the last time.

Soren approached, a smug look on his face.

Sophia panicked. "You... you can’t hurt me. Its... fighting is against the school rules."

Soren stopped, gaze fixed on her. "I am perfectly aware of that. As I am also aware that certain rules can be bent based on certain factors.

Its the reason you and your brothers were brave enough to make the attempt on my life.

Is it not?"

Soren’s grin got wider. By now he was standing a feet from her.

He leaned in.

"I may be F–rank, but right now, I wonder," he stroked his chin. "Who will the authorities find most useful...

The one that captured the Shade Stealer, or the one unable to reach year 3, because she was caught cheating during her exams and was temporary suspended."

Her eyes widened as the words struck her.

Slash...

Her dagger moved.

"How did you know that?"

"Wooo... wait a minute calm down." Soren casually dodged. "How I know is my business. Besides, that’s not all I know.

At around the same time, a certain small noble house was robbed..."

As he spoke, she attacked again and again. But Soren was too far her combat level.

He had fought creatures that coukd dodge bullets.

An angry low ranked commoner girl with a knife was not a threat.

"...One old man amongst the thieves was caught—too slow I presume.

What was his name?

Ahhh... I remember. Pedro."

She paused.

"Tell me," Soren continued, "Senior Sophia, doesn’t the name sound familiar... after all, he is your father."

Sophia gritted her teeth. But lowered her weapon.

"What do you want?"

Soren smiled. "I want you to join my party."

She gave a deep sigh.

"No."