Chapter 4

Human morals have aesthetic values.

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At the top of the building of his school university, Berret found himself arduously dodging a barrage of full swings from a professor he had seen on his first day as a freshman. Before he arrived at the rooftop, he coincidentally caught a glimpse of two individuals; male and female, taking the stairs to the rooftop at the end of the hallway on the third floor.

Intrigued, wondering what he thought would happen if he followed them to the rooftop, Berret was stopped by another student who prohibited him from going to the rooftop.

"It's past school hours. Access to the building's rooftop is prohibited now. Please go home!"

He hastened to catch up to the two who went up, but when he reached the hallway somebody stopped him, and now Berret was thinking that he would be late to the action going on.

"Tch! Get off my dick, nerd!"

As though he was being obedient, Berret took the stairs to the second floor and waited for the other student to leave the building to sneak in, hoping that the two would still be going at it.

Peering through the stairs, on standby, Berret impatiently waited for five minutes until the student was gone.

"Finally, that bastard is gone! Hehehe, I hope I'm not late to the action!"

Sneakily, he made his way to the rooftop, slowly opening the creaking door to the dim-lit rooftop where silence was stagnant. A cool breeze swept through him, entering the building.

"Are they gone? Damnit— wait,"

At the lower corner of his vision was the laying figure of a woman. What seemed to be a pool of blood—filling the air with its iron scent—laid bare in his eyes.

Thud, thud, thud, his shoes echoing in his ears as his heart began to crazily pound inside his chest. He gulped as he stared down at the bashed face of the woman. What entered his mind at the sight of the dead woman was neither disgust nor fear but an overwhelming excitement.

"I'd be damned to turn down a little fondle from her ample breast."

"Berret, behind you!"

His head flung towards the direction of the sudden screaming voice and then behind him. A brazen downward swing almost split his head open. If it was not for his quick reflex and the person who shouted to notify him, he would not have felt the impact of the surprise attack but the metal that the shovel was made of.

It didn't matter when the shovel struck the corpse. What mattered to the attacker was the existence of the witness. He ought to dispose of any person who catches wind of the crime.

"Woah!"

A diagonal swing, a tackle aimed to pin Berret on the ground, then another upward swing. Each swing packs a force, enough to shatter his bones and split his flesh open. That is if he will be hit.

"Quit moving around, and let me hit you, boy!"

"Who the fuck in their right mind would let themselves be hit by a fucking shovel?"

Flashily, Berret pulled out a knife he often carries with him. And instead of running around, he lunged towards the attacker after avoiding a wide swing.

"Oh no!"

Blood splattered on the floor upon having the attacker's throat slit with a sharp knife. The attacker immediately let go of the shovel as more blood trickled down his neck, thus clutching with both hands onto the wound to prevent any more blood loss.

Eventually, as the strength within his body slowly depleted, the attacker fell on both knees as the life given to him gradually faded away in the face of the dark night.

A ringing volume abruptly sounded inside Berret's ears as he was about to take another grope at the dead lady's breast. Truly, a sick person Berret is.

"Shit! I guess I'll have to finish things twice tonight!"

***

On a sunny day outside the university's cafeteria, under the shade of a huge umbrella made with asphalt, Wil was alone with his lunch. Every passing student: freshman, sophomores, and seniors, Wil thinks of them the same as anyone. Your academic achievement does not put you above others or your wealth. To Wil, everyone is born equal, so there is no need to rely on others, and all humans will die equally. No matter their standpoint or position in life.

Sipping on his pineapple juice in a can, his eyes wandered around the sunlight-bathed students. Of course, anyone who looks like a professor would not go unnoticed by his observative eyes. Why? Because of the incident that happened last night. The image of the assailant was vague, thus making Wil wonder who the attacker was. He could not have a clear look at his face, and he didn't find any discerning factor to determine who it was.

"Berret didn't attend his classes today. Is he perhaps avoiding me because he knows I'll pester him with questions regarding the matter last night? Seems like it."

A sigh of defeat left his mouth after burping from being full from having his lunch. He picked up his tray and got up from his seat to go inside the cafeteria.

Even though lunch was almost over, the cafeteria was still packed with students enjoying their food and sharing laughter together as they occasionally took quick glances at people passing by.

"Um, are you not gonna move?" A fellow student had been stopped by Wil upon suddenly halting in the middle of the cafeteria.

As soon as he heard a girl's voice speaking from behind, realizing the matter, Wil immediately moved out of the way, but his actions were a bit over, thus resulting in a problem. His tin canned pineapple juice tipped over from his tray, and its unfinished contents slightly splashed to a student.

"Kya! My clothes!"

The group of students tended to the lady who had her clothes stained with pineapple juice. And all of them gave him glares, which sent a chilling feeling down Wil's core.

Among the group, a student-built like one of those American movie bullies stood up and roughly clinched at Wil's collar.

A mismatch between Wil and the student proved Wil to be an untrained but fit individual. He does not have any knowledge of martial arts, nor does he practice any. His only hobby is being a daredevil, working on his flexibility and balance.

The commotion quickly gathered attention from all students, even from the cafeteria service, who were serving food.

"A fight?"

"Damn, that guy looks like a freshman. Neil will not let that go."

"How unlucky of him to spill juice on Mary."

Wil's tight grip was on Neil's wrist as he was slowly getting picked up by Neil. However, Wil stood his ground and did not let himself be embarrassed in front of everyone. His way of fighting back was by making himself heavy so as to not get lifted.

Suddenly, Neil jerked his right arm while still tightly holding onto Wil's collar. This shows that Neil is about to punch Wil, so the latter is forced to make a decision, otherwise he will meet Neil's fist right across his face. He knew he did not deserve to be punched. The spilling of juice was purely accidental, and he would have offered them money for Mary's laundry.

Instantly, Wil let go of his grip on Neil's wrist and raised both of his hands in the air.

Those who were watching them were confused as to why he abruptly did what he did. But, when they realized what Wil had done they were amazed at how slick he was. He had slipped through his clothes before Neil's fist could land on his face.

"Whoa! He took advantage of his loose fit and the fact that Neil was clinching onto his shirt. It gave him the opportunity to easily remove himself from his shirt!"

Upon successfully escaping what would have been quite a stinging pain, Wil instantaneously distanced himself and bowed his head toward Mary.

"I'm sorry about your clothes! I'll play for your clothes' laundry!"

Neil's friends and his girlfriend came to stop him after Wil's apologetic gestures. They knew that if Neil continued his intentions of hurting Wil, he would be in trouble since they were in the cafeteria. Surely, the school will know about the incident. Also, his already bad reputation will become worse.

"Tch! I'm not done with you!"

Neil threw Wil's shirt on the ground and stomped on it, then he retreated, sitting back down to finish his food— in a bad mood.

"You behave there, Neil," reprimanded Mary. She got off her seat and picked up Wil's shirt off the floor. Spreading the shirt and looking at it, she saw Neil's shoe print on it and took a quick look at her boyfriend. "Please lift up your head."

Wil did so, "I'm sorry again about your clothes. I'll cover the laundry expenses."

Wil began to pull out his wallet, but Mary stopped him and took her wallet instead from her shoulder bag.

"You don't have to. My stupid boyfriend sullied your shirt, too. Way worse than mine. So, here, take this for your clothes."

Mary handed Wil money, and Neil saw it. He was about to object, but one glance at Mary, and he didn't try to persist.

"No! I can't possibly take your money. Let's just call this even."

Gently, Wil took his shirt, put it on despite the dirty shoe prints on it, and rushed out of the cafeteria without looking at anyone. He just wanted out of that situation where they were the center of attraction.

"Wait!"

"Look at Neil. He looks totally pissed."

"You know that freshman's gonna get it. Knowing Neil's persistent behavior, he won't stop until he lands a punch."

~