Updated: Dec 29, 2021
Yes, he has three weeks to live, and he still wishes this is a joke.
It’s almost noon at night, and Redarenjelo has just arrived this evening a week later. The welcome smile of Redarenjelo is not the same as when he came here the first time - Hargest arrived with a company, which is his fourth visit since last week. Redarenjelo's kitchen was already full of rats and roaches, and he risked even that by doing this.
The unfriendly bladder infection inside Hargest would pop him out from existence at any time. So, nobody would marry him now, and he genuinely didn't wish for it, either. He may doesn't want to sound greedy but wants it all.
Redarenjelo, who just hopped into his teens last month, has briefly opened the curtains with a lantern uneasily oscillating between his arms. “No swearing,” says Redarenjelo. But Hargest’s bothersome companion is already halfway in.
Hargest also catches him behind, saying, "Even a butcher can cook"
Redarenjelo agreed to be an alarm and stood at the doors while the wind of a crying mom steadily declined as she walked away from his vision. ‘Die soon, friend’ was his mindset.
It's cold outside and colder inside. Hargest kept repeating the word - today.
There is a pretty girl to his wow, but she doesn't want to waste her smiles on him. Little known, her husband is next to her; yet Hargest brought her up to a desk, and she cooperated as well. He kept something for himself and swept the rest of the nosy fragrances from the table.
He looked around for his friend to trumpet his discovery, but he was already on the top of a lass, and only his creator knew where he got that blanket. Shortly, both are back to business, then a drop of tear sled from her eyes onto his thighs.
Hargest screamed at the seventh octave because that's an eerily thing for a corpse to do.
Redarenjelo kicked into the morgue... (Rest is in the book)