【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 440 [Empire] should be slapped, not strangled.

I felt an inexplicable urge surge from the depths of my heart, and the line between reason and emotion blurred. I reached out and, almost instinctively, grabbed his throat. My fingertips pressed tightly against his neck, as if, for a moment, the entire world's emotions were focused on that one spot. The air seemed to suddenly grow heavy, and the sounds and lights around us blurred, leaving only the contact between him and me.

I looked at him, my eyes filled with neither anger nor hatred, but instead a heart-wrenching sadness. His neck was lightly gripped by me, his breathing becoming increasingly difficult. His face remained gentle, yet tinged with an indescribable fragility. Those deep eyes didn't flicker, as if they had seen through all the powerlessness and pain.

My heart was in a state of confusion, as if something was churning inside me, wanting to release it but not knowing how. I couldn't understand why I had acted this way, nor did I know what I wanted at that moment. The emotion was like an unstoppable flood, sweeping over my thoughts and filling me with a sense of oppression.

I could almost hear the sound of my own heartbeat, rapid and heavy, intertwined with his weak breathing, almost making the whole world stop. My fingers trembled slightly, and I pressed a little tighter, but there was no malice, just wanting some kind of release, even if it was brief, even if it was unconscious.

Yet, seeing the pain in his eyes, my heart suddenly tightened. At that moment, I suddenly realized what I had done. My throat seemed to be clenched tightly by some emotion, and I couldn't breathe. A twisted feeling surged through me, and I couldn't even look him in the face.

I loosened my grip and slowly took a step back, my fingers still trembling slightly. My heartbeat gradually returned to normal, but the oppression and pain seemed to linger in the air, unable to dissipate.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered, almost to myself. My voice was hoarse, tinged with deep guilt and regret. I didn't look at him again, lowering my head, unable to face the emotion I had just released.

He didn't say anything, just looked at me quietly, with an indescribable complexity in his eyes. Perhaps it was forgiveness, perhaps understanding, or perhaps a silent resonance, I had no way of knowing.

But at that moment, the air was filled with an unbearable sadness, like an endless abyss, waiting to swallow up all the distance between us.

I heard my own voice emanate from my mouth, as if even I was feeling lost and bewildered. My palm still hovered in the air, its warmth still lingering. The slap wasn't heavy, but it had a terrifying power, as if the emotions deep within me were suddenly and forcibly released, the long-suppressed anger, confusion, and anxiety finding an outlet.

He stood there, stunned for a moment. There was no obvious anger or retaliation on his face. Instead, he seemed to have a helpless smile, and his eyes flickered with a complex emotion. That look made me feel a little confused, but even more uncertainty surged in my heart.

"What...what are you doing?" I muttered to myself, completely unaware of why I was reacting like that.

I frowned, reflecting on my actions. The churning thoughts in my head seemed to be unable to keep up with my body's reactions. My previous actions should have been filled with anger and resistance, but the anger quickly receded like the tide, leaving only a deep sense of powerlessness. I couldn't understand what was happening to me. Every movement, every thought seemed out of my control.

"Am I... crazy?" I muttered to myself, my voice so low it was almost inaudible. Even I couldn't believe what I had done.

He frowned slightly and whispered, "Are you a little confused about what you are doing?"

That sentence was like a wake-up call, snapping me out of my chaotic thoughts. My fingers trembled slightly, and I suddenly felt a surge of shame. Looking at him, I felt like I really didn't know how to respond. I didn't dare meet his eyes, only lowered my head. My heartbeat was getting faster and faster, and every second felt like it was weighing on me, almost making me breathless.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, not sure if I was speaking to him or myself. This world is too complicated, and my emotions are like the waves of the ocean, sometimes calm, sometimes turbulent. I once thought I could control them, but now I know I'm not as calm and rational as I thought.

"You're right, it should be a slap, not a choke." I added in a low voice, feeling like this was an excuse for myself and also gave myself a little sense of existence.

He didn't say anything, just looked at me, as if he could see my unconscious struggle and confusion in my eyes. Maybe he had seen through my inner turmoil and just accompanied me silently.

"You need to rest." He finally spoke, his tone more concerned than blaming. Although he still looked calm, there was a subtle softness in his eyes.

I nodded, standing there silently, feeling consumed by all sorts of emotions, yet powerless to change them. Perhaps, as he said, I needed to rest, stop thinking, and let this chaotic time calm down.

I looked down at the small dishes on my plate. My chopsticks gently moved across the food, making a crisp clinking sound, but nothing seemed to truly interest me. Each dish became blurry, as if it were getting farther and farther away from me. I realized that I was trapped in an empty space, floating aimlessly.

My chopsticks twirled mindlessly, the vegetables and meat slices on the plate seemingly losing their color. Every movement, every detail, seemed meaningless. The air around me grew heavier; I could hear my own breathing, feel every movement of air.

Suddenly, I stopped what I was doing and stared at the small dish. My eyes were blank. I thought about it, and my heart ached. Those insignificant things piled up in my mind as usual, but I couldn't squeeze out any space.

I took a deep breath and looked out the window. The people on the street seemed to be walking at their own pace, but I felt like I was forgotten in a corner, out of their world. Suddenly, the feeling of being alone and helpless began to surge back into my heart.

"What are you thinking about?" a deep voice came from behind me. I didn't turn around, just continued to stare at the plate of cold appetizers. The voice seemed to penetrate the air and penetrate directly into my heart, touching every weak spot in my body.

"Nothing..." I answered reluctantly, my voice so low it was barely audible. "Just wondering how it got so bad."

He said nothing more, remaining silent for a moment. Then, I heard him walk softly over to my side, and his hand rested on the table in front of me. His fingertips tapped the surface, as if waiting for my reaction.

"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked.

I forced a smile, moved the dish around, and acted as if it was "not important": "I have no appetite." I knew in my heart that this "no appetite" was actually more like a kind of helplessness. Every bite I took seemed to be killing time and eroding my sense of existence.

He looked at me, then at the dish, as if wondering if I was avoiding a question, but in the end he just sighed softly and didn't say anything more.

"It won't be good for you to go on like this." He said in a low voice, but with a hint of imperceptible concern.

I just smiled and didn't answer.

At this moment, I suddenly felt as if I was standing at a fork in the road. There were not many choices in front of me, but each one made me feel heavy.