Chapter 161 - Stalking the Stalker

I could still remember what Myrrh always used to say whenever the name “Ephraim” came up in conversation alongside the word “ex-boyfriend.” With her usual fiery temper, she would declare that if she ever saw him again, she’d transform into a Frame Unit and trample both him and his junkie girlfriend without hesitation.

Now, as I watched Myrrh’s eyes settle on Ephraim and Clarisse, a cold unease began to creep into me.

“Wait—hold on, isn’t that Myrrh Alicent?” my friend Jefferson asked, his tone laced with surprise.

“You mean the student governor back in high school?” John muttered, lowering his voice as if recalling a ghost. “The same one who used to chase us around like a tiger on the prowl?”

Jordan let out a low whistle. “Damn. She looks even more stunning than before. Seriously—her body matured a lot in just a year, right, Zaft?”

“Ah, oh—yeah, maybe,” I stammered, tripping over my words. I hadn’t planned on joining the conversation, but they had roped me in before I realized it.

John jabbed my stomach—not too hard, but firm enough to make me flinch. “Hey, Zaft. Didn’t you two go to Orbital Tech Applied Kinetics University together? Don’t tell me you see her often.”

“Y-yeah, something like that.” I forced a shaky smile, my eyes flicking nervously between Myrrh and Ephraim across the room, wary of sparks that might ignite.

“You idiot!” Jeffrey cut in sharply. “Zaft and Myrrh literally partnered up during the Licensure Examinations Tournament! Don’t you keep up with social media? They even won the whole thing! And if I remember right, the two of them bickered like husband and wife in the very first round.”

“Well, damn. I thought you hated Myrrh with every cell of your body, Zaft,” John said with a teasing grin. “But even so, I clearly remember you rating her a solid ten out of ten back in our third year of high school.”

“Ahahaha…” I scratched the side of my head, though it wasn’t itchy in the slightest. My mind was split—half focused on keeping up with my friends’ banter, the other half locked on Myrrh’s movements in the distance.

For now, she was simply sitting on a bench, sipping coconut juice from a flimsy plastic cup through a straw. Yet her eyes betrayed her stillness—subtle, secretive glances stolen in the direction of Ephraim and Clarisse, who seemed to be enjoying themselves far too much.

Wait… hadn’t Ephraim broken up with Clarisse months ago? Did they patch things up and slip back together?

Before I could untangle that thought, Myrrh suddenly rose from the bench. Her steps were slow, measured—three paces in, and I realized with a jolt that she was walking straight toward her ex-boyfriend and his lover.

My heart lurched, hammering against my ribs. A rush of dread coursed through me, and instinct screamed that I had to move.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered, tearing away from my friends. Without another word, I sprinted toward Myrrh.

The slap of my flip-flops against the white sand must have given me away, because Myrrh turned just as I neared. Her blue eyes met mine, and she greeted me with a radiant smile.

“Oh, Zaft! Good morning!” she chimed. She looked genuinely cheerful—too cheerful. And that, to me, was a red flag. With Myrrh, a perfect smile often hid something far more sinister.

“Yeah, don’t ruin the good morning!” I shot back, finally catching my breath. “Are you seriously about to turn this birthday party into chaos?”

“Hey! I gave you a proper greeting, and you’re already accusing me of being a troublemaker?” Myrrh pouted, crossing her arms beneath her bountiful bosom. “Isn’t that usually your role?”

“Then what are you planning?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes.

“Planning what?” She tilted her head innocently.

“You’re heading straight toward Ephraim and Clarisse!” I cried. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going to kill them?”

“W-wait, are you stalking me?” Myrrh stammered, her cheeks tinged pink as she cringed at the thought.

“I’m stalking you because you’re stalking them!” I fired back.

She groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead as if her brain were overheating, then let out a long sigh. “Listen, Zaft. I don’t care about Ephraim anymore. He can flirt with that junkie girlfriend of his all he wants. I was only heading over to throw this coconut juice in the trash. So stop being such a worrywart and just enjoy the beach.”

Myrrh flicked her empty plastic cup into the recycling bin with a clean shot.

“There,” she said smugly. “Problem solved.”

“I don’t believe you.” I narrowed my eyes at her and extended a hand. “Hand over your morpher.”

“What?”

“This is just an assurance that you won’t turn into a giant robot for the rest of the day,” I said firmly.

“What are you, my mom?” Myrrh planted a hand on her hip and shifted her weight to the side, rocking her hips with playful defiance. “I didn’t even bring my morpher! Look—do you see one? I’m literally in a bikini!”

My gaze, completely against my will, trailed downward—first to the curve of her cleavage, then to her hips. “You’re sure you didn’t hide it in there? Maybe between your cleavage… or in your butt cheeks?”

In an instant, Myrrh’s face flushed strawberry red. She yelped, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. “I’m telling you, I didn’t bring my morpher! I left it back in the hotel with my mom, geez!”

I folded my arms, still glaring like a detective who didn’t buy the alibi. “Alright then. I’ll take your word for it. But just remember—I’ll be watching you.”

“F-Fine! You can inspect if you really don’t trust me!” Myrrh cried, throwing up her arms as if surrendering. Her cheeks flushed pink. “You degenerate!”

I felt my own face burn. “T-there’s no need! As I said, I’ll just take your word for it!” I stammered, waving my hands in panic.

Myrrh pouted, her lips pursing as she mumbled under her breath. “You know, I’m not so petty that I’d kill a cheater and a homewrecker just because my heart was broken. Sure, I may have a short fuse, but I can still control myself. Besides…” she trailed off, her eyes softening with a tinge of weariness, “…it’s been about two years since we broke up.”

I crossed my arms, refusing to let her words slide so easily. “I remember more than a few times back in Xyraxis where you chanted, ‘I’ll kill that cheater and that homewrecker when I see them’ like some kind of mantra,” I scolded. “So you can’t blame me for being a worrywart.”

Myrrh let out a deep sigh, brushing a stray strand of lime-green hair from her face. “That was just a metaphor, you know. I don’t care about him anymore. I plan on ignoring Ephraim for the rest of his life. So relax, Zaft. I don’t have the time—nor the patience—to waste on pests.”

Her words sounded convincing enough, yet I could only muster a weak, forced smile. Maybe I had overreacted. Of course, Myrrh wasn’t a serial killer. She wouldn’t really turn this birthday party into chaos… right?

However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just jinxed myself.

“Oh! Hey, Myrrh! And—oh, nice to meet you as well, Zaft!” a familiar voice called out.

Turning to the left, we saw none other than prince-charming Ephraim himself. Standing beside him was Clarisse—his (ex?) girlfriend, her hand loosely hooked around his arm.

“Oh… hey…” Myrrh greeted, her tone colder than the planet Uranus, her blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

I stepped in quickly, trying to smooth the atmosphere, though the summer sun overhead made the cold tension between us feel all the more jarring. “What’s up?” I asked Ephraim, feigning casualness.

“Hazel’s forming a beach volleyball team,” Ephraim said with a smile that could’ve come straight out of a magazine cover. “Are you guys interested?”

“No. Fuck off.” Myrrh shot back without hesitation, her voice as sharp as broken glass. “And get lost.”