Chapter 760

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Chapter 760: Father…

Uncle Kyosuke moved his hand away from the “Mysterious Eye,” and a trickle of fresh blood seeped from the corner of his mouth again.

He glanced at the two figures disappearing outside the window for a moment, wiped the blood from his lips, and returned his gaze to the face of the boy lying on the bed.

His expression gradually softened.

Under the pitch-black sky, the city outside was eerily silent, with only the distant rumble of thunder echoing, and blinding blue light pulsating at the center of the city, occasionally illuminating a corner of the dim room.

Uncle Kyosuke sat by the snow-white bed, the flickering lightning casting his shadow on the wall, resembling a tall and imposing giant quietly watching over the white-haired boy.

After a long while, he slowly stood up and moved toward the desk nearby.

He supported himself with both hands on the tabletop and struggled to sit down in the chair. His fingers trembled uncontrollably; his body was already at its limit.

A faint golden light flickered on the handle of the “Mysterious Eye.” Moments later, Uncle Kyosuke’s figure swayed and reverted to his original appearance.

His current physical condition was no longer sufficient to sustain a change in his appearance.

Beside the desk in the night sky, a frail old man with white hair sat quietly, trembling as he picked up a fountain pen.

That was the true appearance of Yuzuriha Kurotetsu now.

Gone was the clean, short black hair, the handsome face, and the upright posture… He hunched over, sitting there, grayish patterns emerging on his skin, and beneath the wrinkled layers was a face aged by illness.

He lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror on the desk, and a bitter smile appeared on his cracked lips.

He had said he wanted to die as a qualified father… but this appearance was too disheveled.

Yet he shook his head, his right hand, speckled with gray, gripping the fountain pen, trembling as he wrote line after line on the white paper before him:

“Takashi, I’m sorry.

Originally, I wanted to tell you these things in person, but I feared that with my physical condition, I wouldn’t last until you woke up, so I decided to leave this note…”

The blinding lightning flickered in the distant night sky, the explosive rumble mixed with thunder, surging through the silent night. This frail, white-haired old man sat at the desk, seemingly completely isolated from the world, struggling yet earnestly writing down his thoughts.

Time passed, and he slowly set down the pen in his hand, a hint of relief finally appearing in his murky eyes.

He felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

Yuzuriha Kurotetsu turned around and glanced at the still unconscious Yuzuriha Takashi, a slight smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

He placed the letter and the “Mysterious Eye” on Takashi’s bedside, slowly stood up, draped the black coat from the hanger over himself, and, coughing, pushed open the heavy door.

Creak—!

The door closed, and the room fell silent once more.

Amidst the howling wind and thunder, Yuzuriha Kurotetsu hunched his body and slowly walked away.

He didn’t want Takashi to see him like this.

Whether as a father or as one of the top hosts in Tokyo, he could not allow himself to die in front of Takashi in this state.

If a child woke up to find their father’s cold corpse… how devastating would that be for Yuzuriha Takashi?

So, he decided to leave, to go to some unknown corner and quietly die.

Perhaps after the storm subsided, someone would discover a nameless corpse on the street, maybe call the police, and it would be handled, but that would be the extent of it.

No one would know that this corpse was named Yuzuriha Kurotetsu.

No one would know he was the father of a girl and a boy, nor would anyone know he was once the brightest star in Tokyo’s host scene.

After reading that letter, in Takashi’s heart, his father was that tall, handsome figure who was willing to play games with him and cook delicious curry pork cutlet rice… even if that wasn’t Kurotetsu’s true appearance, it was enough for him!

Leaving an impression on Takashi, who had never met his father, that wouldn’t be disliked—that was what Yuzuriha Kurotetsu wanted.

Now, he… was too disheveled.

In the letter, he not only admitted that Uncle Kyosuke was Takashi’s father but also wrote down everything that had happened back then, including the existence of Yuzuriha Nao and where she was…

As long as Takashi read this letter, he would immediately understand the situation. Whether he would forgive him was not important, but at least Kurotetsu hoped that his daughter and son could eventually get along well.

In the cold wind and thunder, Yuzuriha Kurotetsu tightened his thin coat around him, the pain forcing him to lean against the wall, hunching over as he began to cough violently.

He coughed until it felt like his heart was being torn apart.

After he finished coughing, he weakly leaned against the wall and looked up toward the direction of the low house, a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Such an ending… though a bit desolate, he had still achieved his goal.

He had seen his son and lived with him for a while. Although he hadn’t fulfilled his responsibilities as a father, at least he had appeared in the other’s life, even if only for a few short days.

But…

In the end, he never heard Takashi call him father…

Yuzuriha Kurotetsu sighed deeply and slowly closed his eyes in the cold wind…

At that moment, a figure suddenly broke through the void and stepped in front of Yuzuriha Kurotetsu.

With snow-white hair dancing in the cold wind, the tall boy stood under the night sky, his cross-shaped star pupils gazing at the frail, sickly old man by the street, his eyes filled with deep confusion and pain.

The instant he appeared, the cold wind and thunder completely vanished from around them.

This sudden silence made Yuzuriha Kurotetsu, whose consciousness was gradually sinking, struggle to regain his senses. His murky eyes slowly lifted, and when he saw the figure standing before him, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Yuzuriha Takashi crouched down, looking at the seated Yuzuriha Kurotetsu with a complex expression. After hesitating for a moment, he still reached out his arms and gently embraced the frail old man.

He parted his lips slightly:

“Father… I’m late.”

Yuzuriha Kurotetsu’s body trembled violently.

Under the night sky filled with surging lightning, at an unvisited street corner, a tall boy held the hunched old man, their shadows elongated by the lightning…

Yuzuriha Kurotetsu opened his cracked lips and hoarsely spoke:

“How did you… come?”

“I can see your red dot on the map. This distance, I can easily find my way here,” Yuzuriha Takashi said, holding him tightly, his voice soft.

“Father, your son is… even more capable than you think.”