Read Novel Full Chapter 631: Happy New Year!
Chapter 631: Happy New Year!
The crowd that had been celebrating moments ago now scrambled backward, tripping over chairs and tables in their desperate need to escape that terrible smile.
They had burned him alive, and yet he was the one who terrified them.
Marcus forced words out through his constricted throat.
“You brat…you’re still alive? How can you still be alive?!”
He tried to sound angry, but his voice cracked with fear.
“I’ll burn you again!” He threatened. “I’ll burn you until there’s nothing left!”
But Charlotte wasn’t listening to Marcus.
She was looking at Mika with tears streaming down her face.
“Is that you, Mika?” She whispered. “Is that really you?!”
Mika, whose head was slumped forward, slowly tilted his face down toward her.
Even though his face was a featureless mask of burnt, cracked charcoal, the way his expression softened felt deeply, unmistakably tender.
“Of course it’s me, Charlotte.” Mika spoke. His voice came out raspy and rough—his half-burned tongue struggling over the words, yet carrying a familiar, cheeky warmth. “Who else would it be? Just because I got turned into a piece of charcoal doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into someone else.”
The moment she heard his voice, Charlotte burst into tears.
“Thank God…thank God, Mika!”
She threw herself at the base of the cross, wrapping her phantom arms around his burnt, ash-covered ankles.
“I thought you died! I thought you actually passed away and they broke you! I didn’t know what to do without you…I genuinely thought you were gone!”
Mika let out a low, terrifyingly raspy chuckle.
“I already promised you, didn’t I? I told you I’d bring you out of here alive. How could I die without fulfilling my promise?”
Charlotte wiped her tears frantically, nodding her head over and over. “Yeah…yeah, you promised!”
Unable to handle the sheer absurdity of the situation, Marcus snapped.
His face twisted into a mask of rage and humiliation as he screamed at the cross like a wild animal.
“YOU FILTHY BRAT! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME RIGHT NOW!”
Mika calmly shifted his blind, socketed gaze toward Marcus.
“What are you doing?” Marcus demanded, his voice shrill. “Trying to scare us? With that ridiculous song? It won’t work! We’re not afraid of some old lullaby!”
His words said one thing, but his trembling hands said another.
“Those creatures—those Singing Hollows—they’re gone! Wiped out! The Battle Angels slaughtered every last one of them! The song means nothing anymore!”
Mika didn’t respond immediately. He simply let his gaze drift across the crowd, sweeping over every pale, terrified face.
Each person he looked at flinched, as if his empty eye sockets could somehow see into their souls.
Finally, he let out a sigh and smiled.
“You want to know why I sang that song?”
He asked, his voice taking on the tone of a storyteller.
“Then let me explain something to all of you.”
He leaned forward against the cross, the movement causing the nails to shift in his charred flesh.
“The truth is.” He continued. “Unlike all of you, who probably read about that song in some classified history file, or heard it whispered in dark forums…”
“…I learned that song in a completely different place, a very long time ago.”
The crowd listened in terrified silence. Even Marcus, despite himself, couldn’t look away.
“When I was just a baby.” Mika continued. “Barely old enough to crawl, I was kept in a special room. The Battle Angels took care of me—cuddled me, kissed my cheeks, treated me like their own. But there were moments when I was alone.”
He looked up at the dark sky, a note of nostalgia entering his voice despite his ruined throat.
“And one night, after the battle angels had left the room…a figure appeared beside my cradle.”
“But…But that’s impossible, Mika!” Charlotte couldn’t help but say in confusion.
“Mama and the others never let anyone near you! They told me your existence was an anomaly and because of that only they were allowed to interact with you!”
“Exactly right.” Mika agreed. “Which is why I never told them about her.”
“Her?” Charlotte’s voice was small.
“A woman.” Mika’s voice grew distant, nostalgic. “I don’t know who she was, or if she was even real.”
“But she was…beautiful.”
“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Even as a baby, when I didn’t understand what beauty even meant, I knew I was looking at something extraordinary.”
Charlotte listened, captivated despite herself. She had always considered the Battle Angels to be the most beautiful beings in existence.
If Mika was describing someone even more beautiful…
He chuckled softly. “She would appear beside my cradle and just…look at me. And I would giggle at her because she was so beautiful it made my tiny baby heart happy. And she would smile back and caress my cheek, and I would feel this warmth—this connection—that I’d never felt before.”
The guests were listening now, despite their fear.
There was something mesmerizing about Mika’s voice, something that demanded attention.
“And then she started singing.”
The crowd held its breath.
“It was a lullaby.” Mika continued. “But not one I’d heard before. The Battle Angels sang to me constantly—hymns, battle songs, ancient melodies.”
“But this was different. The lyrics were eerie. They spoke of darkness, of being pursued, of never escaping. But when she sang them…”
His voice took on a dreamy quality.
“It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. Like a siren luring sailors to sea. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t blink. I just lay there in my cradle, completely enchanted.”
He smiled again—that terrible, lipless smile.
“She would visit me like that, you know. Not often. But sometimes. And every time, she would sing that song before disappearing.”
His voice dropped.
“I never told the Battle Angels about her. I never told anyone. And as I grew older, I convinced myself it must have been a dream. The product of an infant’s overactive imagination.”
He paused, then let out a soft laugh.
“But then, years later, I discovered the truth. That song she sang—it had a name. The Lullaby of the Hollows.”
Several people in the crowd whimpered at the name alone.
“I was shocked, of course. How could something so beautiful be associated with such horror? The Singing Hollows were monsters. Their song was a death knell. Even the Battle Angels refused to speak of it.”
He shook his head slowly.
“But for me…that song has always been a source of comfort.”
“When I was in pain, I would sing it quietly to myself…”
“When I felt like breaking, I would hum the melody in my mind…”
“And every time, the suffering would fade. The burdens would lift. I would feel like that baby again, cradled in the arms of a beautiful stranger.”
His gaze swept across them—lingering on Marcus, then Amanda, then the doctor, the actor, every face in the crowd.
“That’s why I sang it now. Because I’m in pain. Because I’m suffering. Because I needed to remember what it felt like to be comforted.”
He paused.
“And because…well.”
His smile became terrifying.
“Because I don’t have to worry about any of you reporting me for singing a forbidden song.”
Marcus’s blood ran cold. “What…what do you mean?”
Mika leaned forward as far as his restraints would allow. The nails through his body shifted, tearing at his flesh, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was too focused on Marcus.
“Because all of you are going to die.” He said softly. “Every single one of you. I’m going to butcher you all like the pigs you are.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with certainty.
“And you know the funny part?” Mika continued, his voice taking on an almost cheerful quality. “It’s not even because of what you did to me. Not really.”
His gaze drifted to Charlotte, and his voice grew tender.
“It’s because of Charlotte. Because she’s been by my side through all of this. Because she’s suffered alongside me without complaint.”
“And because…she made a wish, and I intend to fulfill it.”
He looked back at Marcus, and his smile became something truly demonic.
“You asked everyone else what their New Year’s resolution was, Marcus. But you never asked me.”
The temperature in the courtyard seemed to plummet further.
“So go ahead. Ask me now. It’s only polite.”
Marcus felt a horrible sense of dread wash over him. Every instinct screamed at him not to ask, not to play along.
He looked at Amanda, hoping for support, but she was even more terrified than he was.
He had no choice.
“What…What is your New Year’s resolution, y-you brat?”
Mika’s smile stretched wider—impossibly wide, splitting his charred face into something demonic.
“My resolution is to fulfill Charlotte’s resolution.”
“And her resolution, as you might recall, was to kill every single one of you.”
He chuckled—a low, terrible sound.
“Not just you. Your friends. Your families. Everyone you’ve ever loved. Everyone you’ve ever cared about.”
“Your mothers…”
“Your fathers…”
“Your sisters…”
“Your brothers…”
“Your aunts and uncles…”
“Your grandparents and even your children—”
His voice rose, filling the space with its terrible promise.
“EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. ALL OF THEM ARE GOING TO DIE.”
“I’M PERSONALLY GOING TO MAKE SURE THEY DON’T EXIST ON THIS WORLD FROM THIS NEW YEAR!”
The moment the words left Mika’s mouth, the delicate facade of high-society poise shattered completely.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, MARCUS?!”
The doctor roared, his face flushed red, his hand trembling as he pointed a frantic finger at the terrace.
“You said this event was entirely safe! You swore on your reputation that this domain was completely sealed off from the rest of the world!”
“Why is this brat making such horrifying threats?!”
The news reporter shrieked, clutching her diamond necklace so tightly her fingers bled.
“You promised us absolute secrecy! You promised us nothing could go wrong!”
“You bastard!” A high-ranking military officer bellowed, stepping up to the edge of the terrace and glaring at Marcus with bloodshot eyes.
“If my reputation or my career gets fucked up because of this insanity, I swear to God I won’t leave you alive!”
“Do you hear me, Marcus?! I will tear your life apart!”
The entire garden devolved into a chaotic chorus of shrill screams, curses, and terrified demands.
They were utterly petrified of what Mika might do—terrified by the chilling, inhuman certainty in his raspy voice.
“ALL OF YOU, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
Marcus’s voice boomed across the lawn, momentarily silencing the squabbling elites.
“Can’t you idiots see he’s spewing complete nonsense?!”
He shouted, his chest heaving.
“Just look at him! He’s a skinless, roasted husk impaled on iron stakes! He’s been tortured to the very brink of death!”
“What could he possibly do from up there?!”
He clicked his tongue as he added,
“He’s probably just trying to get under your skin! To make you afraid! And you’re falling for it like a bunch of frightened children!”
“Is that so, Marcus?”
Mika let out a raspy chuckle that vibrated through the smoking wood behind him.
“Is that really so? Because from where I’m standing…you don’t look very confident. In fact, you look downright nervous.”
A cold spike of dread shot straight through Marcus’s gut.
He opened his mouth to bark another insult to mask it. But Mika simply tilted his charred head, his empty eye sockets tracking the floating clock suspended high above the mansion.
“Honestly…I can’t bother explaining it to you.” Mika murmured, his tone eerily casual. “So I won’t bother. Just look at the clock, Marcus.”
Marcus instinctively glanced up at the glowing numerals hovering in the night sky.
“In about forty-five seconds.” Mika whispered, his voice carrying a terrifying weight. “You’re going to see right before your very eyes how every single word I just said is going to come true.”
“You’re going to watch this entire party, this domain, and whatever pathetic little world you built up over here shatter right in front of you.”
The absolute conviction in Mika’s words sent a fresh shockwave of terror through the crowd.
“You’re lying!” Marcus screamed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched frantic edge. “You’re completely lying, you filthy brat! There is nothing you can do! Nothing!”
Desperate to prove his own words, Marcus frantically closed his eyes, extending his psychic consciousness deep into the roots of The Devil’s Playground.
It was just as he thought—the domain was completely secure.
No external forces were pressing against the barriers.
No hidden energy was building inside the boy.
Absolutely nothing was happening!
Marcus snapped his eyes open, a triumphant sneer returning to his face.
“See?! I checked! My domain is completely stable! You’re bluffing!”
But Mika just shook his head slowly.
“Your time has come, Marcus. I’ve waited long enough.”
“Waited for what?!” Marcus snarled. “What could you possibly have been waiting for?!”
Mika didn’t answer him.
He simply kept his socketed gaze fixed on the floating clock high above the garden.
The glowing numbers shifted.
11:59:30.
“Thirty…” Mika counted out loud, his raspy voice echoing through the silent, frozen estate.
“Twenty-nine…twenty-eight…”
The crowd gasped. The sound of his slow, methodical ticking sent the guests into a full-blown panic.
“Marcus, do something!” A noblewoman shrieked, clutching her husband’s arm so hard her nails drew blood. “Make him stop counting! Do something right now!”
“Twenty-four…twenty-three…twenty-two…”
“EVERYONE BE QUIET!” Marcus roared, his eyes darting frantically between the clock and the burnt boy. “Nothing is going to happen! He’s just playing mind games! Stand your ground!”
But his voice cracked on the last word, and Charlotte could see the terror creeping into his eyes.
“Twenty…nineteen…eighteen…”
With every single number that left his cracked lips, his wide, toothy grin stretched wider, turning increasingly monstrous and uncanny against his charred charcoal face.
“Fifteen…fourteen…thirteen…”
Charlotte looked around the garden, searching for any sign of what Mika was planning.
The restraints on the prisoners remained intact. The guests remained trapped in this nightmare realm. Nothing seemed to be changing.
But Mika’s voice became even more confident every second that passed.
“Fifteen….Fourteen…Thirteen…”
“This is insane.” Someone whispered. “He’s just a child. He can’t do anything. He can’t—”
11:59:50.
The final countdown began.
“Ten…”
Guests ducked behind banquet tables, bracing themselves, hiding their faces in horror.
“Nine…”
Marcus’s eyes darted left and right, scanning his domain for any sign of weakness.
“Eight…”
Amanda’s grip on his arm almost tore his flesh
“Seven…”
The fat man held his breath.
“Six…”
The waiters clutched their plates in terror.
“Five.”
The hostages held their breaths.
“Four.”
Charlotte hugged Mika’s feet.
“Three.”
Marcus’s face went pale.
“Two.”
Mika paused, letting the moment stretch into eternity until—
“One…”
And then, with a smile that would haunt their nightmares for the rest of their lives,
“Happy New Year, you bastards…”
His eyes dimmed into something almost serene.
“…I can’t wait to see all of you on the other side.”
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