Chapter 1921: Chapter 1921

The incredible truth sent Hathaway's world spinning. She had never felt reality to be so incomprehensible. It took a long moment of stunned silence before she could even process what Jenkins was trying to say, and then she plunged into an even deeper state of confusion.

"Wait a moment... Are you saying that you are all of the Believers of Lies?"

She pressed a hand to her forehead.

"Yes. Perhaps some have noticed that whenever a Believer of Lies appeared, there was almost always a cat nearby. I'm not sure why no one ever picked up on that clue, but in reality, all of those cats were Chocolate."

He patted the rump of the cat lounging on the desk. Chocolate stood up reluctantly and demonstrated its "grand feline transformation" for Hathaway.

She groaned again. Ridiculously, the resentment she'd felt toward Jenkins had been completely blown away by the sheer shock of it all.

"So, you're telling me that the man I'm going to marry is not only the Saint of a Righteous God, but also the entire following of a major pseudo-god? No, this is just... Jenkins, why are you telling me this?"

"Because you deserve to know."

She suddenly looked up at Jenkins. Her expression wasn't fierce, yet it made him feel as if the red-haired lady wanted to strangle him. But he couldn't recall her ever doing anything embarrassing when he was near her as Mr. Candle. Hathaway had always been hostile toward Mr. Candle, but aside from that, they hadn't had much interaction.

"Jenkins, you really are... But is this really okay? Your two identities."

She had wanted to complain, to curse him for his actions, because it was so foolish—it made her feel incredibly foolish. But the words that came out were of concern for him instead. Hathaway was surprised at her own remarkable adaptability, so easily accepting a truth most people couldn't. She figured that from now on, nothing would ever shock her again.

"I don't believe I've ever done anything wrong. In fact, what I'm doing isn't even a betrayal of the Church of Knowledge and Books. The God of Lies..."

Hathaway's eyes met Jenkins's, and he trailed off.

"Jenkins, has it all just been a lie?" Orıginal content can be found at novęlfire.net

"No. Though I am a believer of lies, I'm not a person who likes to lie. My relationship with all of you is... If you're willing, I can share my memories with you. You can know everything about me. You can ask whatever you want. When it comes to matters of the heart, I have never lied."

"Who wants to see your memories?"

Hathaway retorted. Of course she didn't believe Jenkins would lie about something —she was quite confident he was incapable of such a thing.

Her words made Jenkins breathe a sigh of relief; he detected an undercurrent of playful protest in her tone. Perhaps he was mistaken, but at least the atmosphere was no longer so tense.

So he rose from behind his desk and sat down beside Hathaway. Chocolate, of course, followed with a wagging tail.

"So then, what exactly is your relationship with that god?"

Her question caught Jenkins off guard for a moment. He had assumed she'd already figured out that he was the God of Lies. But thinking back, Hathaway had never directly witnessed his ascension. All she had seen was the God of Lies' black cat turning into Chocolate and acting affectionately toward him. He had thought that would be enough proof, since Chocolate was only ever close to him.

"Should I tell Hathaway that I am the God of Lies?"

He asked himself, finding reasonable arguments for both yes and no. His original reasons for not telling her were partly to avoid frightening her, and partly out of concern that knowing would place a heavy burden on her as well.

But now, those reasons seemed meaningless. Utterly meaningless.

"The God of Lies, you ask?"

He shrugged his shoulders, trying to maintain a calm expression as he answered:

He looked into Hathaway's eyes, and she looked back into his. They were both motionless, as if frozen in time, which made the cat to the side feel rather out of place.

Annoyed by this feeling, it leaped onto Jenkins's shoulder and tried to swat his cheek with its tail. But before it could, Jenkins, without breaking eye contact with Hathaway, calmly plucked the cat off his shoulder with one hand and set it on his lap.

With just a gentle stroke, the cat, which had been a bit bristled, calmed down. It let out a soft "meow" and settled onto his lap, content to be petted.

That familiar feeling of a daze returned, blurring Hathaway's vision. A few minutes ago, she had thought nothing could ever shock her again, but she quickly realized how wrong she was.

"Think about it. Why would I be all of the Believers of Lies? What would be the point? Just because it's fun? No. It's because there are no believers of lies. There is only the God of Lies. To answer your question honestly, yes, I am... well, I am the God of Lies."

Hathaway suddenly began to gasp for air, as if she couldn't breathe. Jenkins immediately placed his palm on her chest to help steady her breathing. In truth, bloodletting would have been more effective at lowering the blood pressure spiked by her intense emotional fluctuations. But Jenkins trusted Hathaway to regulate her own emotions; he didn't think it was a major issue.

She had even accepted the fact that he was the entire following of the Believers of Lies without much of an outburst, so he figured she could handle him being the God of Lies, too.

But clearly, he had overestimated Hathaway's emotional control. His help didn't calm her breathing; instead, her gasps grew louder, only subsiding when she turned and threw her arms around him.

When she was a young girl, in that innocent age when her heart was just beginning to stir, when her relationship with Briny was still just pure friendship, Hathaway, like so many other young ladies, had her fantasies.

Her most extravagant fantasy, shared by most girls her age, was to one day marry a prince—and a prince with a claim to the throne, at that. And now, somehow, that dream had come true.

The God of Destiny was sometimes far too stingy, but this time, he had been far too generous.

Hathaway felt that all she had ever begged for was a small, perhaps slightly extravagant, loaf of bread. After she'd decided she no longer wanted bread and had developed a taste for noodles instead, the God of Destiny had given her both the bread and the noodles. And that wretched loaf of bread, it turned out, was an extra-large portion with cream and jam.

And the most generous part of all was that the bread wasn't even bread. It was...

Hathaway couldn't think.