The merman, my man

Chapter 204

Dicken did not answer me, but his arms tightened over my waist while his lips slid down to my neck. He

nestled my neck from behind the mask, inhaling my scent deeply. He then put a webbed claw over my

head, petting me like one would a child, before tucking the hair that was covering my forehead behind

my ear.

“Dicken…“

I looked longingly into his enrapturing gaze, and reached out to touch his cheek when a woman

shrieked, “Hey, what are you doing?! “

I flinched in surprise and turned to find a girl, holding a bucket of laundry on the shore. She had

probably come down for a wash, but was startled by Dicken and me.

I was left stammering awkwardly, unsure of how to explain what was going on right then, just as I heard

a loud splash behind me —Dicken had dived into the water, and was gone without a trace before I

could catch him.

“Where are you going?! “ I was more angry than surprised, and slammed at the iron gate furiously, but

my response was the banging and the splashing in the night.

Why was Dicken hiding from me? What was he doing? Was he hiding some sort of secret?

I frowned in irritation, finding the scene at once awkward yet laughable. After all, Dicken used to do

everything he could to woo me and ogle me, but it was the complete opposite now—I was now both the

stalker and a voyeur! And it was frustrating that I had no idea where he had gone!

Fuck! How did this happen?! Extremely discontent, I began to scour every inch of the iron gate, even

diving in the water to check the bottom —there had to be some sort of mechanism that allowed

someone to pass through, and I must not have noticed it the first time around because it was relatively

well concealed.

Soon, I managed to reach a particular iron bar that was loose. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed it and shook

it firmly a few times, and ended up prying it off directly.

Shit! To think I didn’t notice that at all just now!

With that done, I promptly swam back to my gondola, put on my clothes, and crawled through the

bottom of the iron gate.

“Dicken! “ I yelled his name even as I swam deep into the aqueduct, and was left facing several pitch-

black holes after turning a corner. I had no idea where it connected —it could be the sewers of Venice,

and it would be an underground maze.

I rejoiced that I now had night-vision right then. How else would I notice the path beneath the water?

That being said, I had no idea what Dicken could be thinking. He was a king of the sea and he had his

freedom, so why would he crawl under the filth of the sewers?

What could he be up to? Honestly his intentions were becoming less obvious to me now.

Meanwhile, I did all I could to push aside various rubbish ranging from cigarette butts to beer bottles

that were floating beside me, and breathe in all the senses down here as much as I could. Even if it

stinked, I was hoping to pick up Dicken’s whereabouts since all I could do was track his faint scent

along the sewers.

I had felt like a rat before, but now felt that the more precise description here was a cat—like one that Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

hadn’t eaten for days, I was tracking Dicken’s fishy scent!

Even as my thoughts were left in disarray, I heard more sounds aside from the sound of flowing water

in the quiet sewers… those were voices in conservation combined with music.

Could there be some bustling spot over my head? Where was I, for that matter?

I advanced along the voice, and saw faint light shining from above, and patted my head. Then, with a

firm shove, I opened the manhole and carefully poked my head out of the gap to find that it was a

casino!

Smoke was swirling across the room, and the light was rather dim. Still, I could see a group of people

gathered beside a table laden with stacks of betting chips—money and desires were the constant vices

of this place.

It appears that everyone’s attention was on the table, and no one cared that I had climbed out of the

manhole.

I sniffed, and was positive that Dicken’s scent was right here.

After climbing out from beneath the floor, I carefully looked around, and noticed that the building had

been remodeled from an abbey—wall sculptures filled the roof and the pillars, and there were various

murals on the wall.

It was simply bizarre. What would Dicken be doing here? Did he get bored of talking to fishes in the

sea, and decide to come onshore for a few rounds of poker, experiencing the amusement humans

have?