*Clink.*
A 1-Jenny coin was dropped by Illumi into the rabbit-shaped piggy bank held by Meruem.
[Pre-Marriage Contract (55/999)]
Meruem shook the piggy bank expressionlessly.
Don’t misunderstand—this was by no means a sign of Meruem’s weak will. In the previous chapter, what she swore was to *"never make another wish about [Silva Zoldyck] again,"* so she would continue making other wishes to Illumi.
Yes, she wouldn’t stop making wishes. Nor *could* she stop.
Because she had to dangle the "carrot" in front of Illumi, making him toil endlessly, expending great effort, only to cruelly crush it in the end. Only then could he truly experience the bitterness, rage, and pain of loss.
"Sis." Having fulfilled Meruem’s 55th wish, Illumi knelt before her.
Like a tamed big cat, he rested his folded hands on her knees, tilting his head up to expose the curve of his neck.
Meruem reached out, her fingertips brushing over the uneven part of that curve—his Adam’s apple.
Illumi remained still and silent.
Then her fingers combed through his sideburns, tracing his jawline down to his chin.
She curled her fingers and scratched lightly. Instead of narrowing his eyes like a cat, he blinked in confusion.
*Boring.* Meruem had been in a rare good mood, willing to humor him a little, but who knew this guy wasted those cat-like eyes of his.
On second thought, Illumi’s reaction made sense. He wasn’t a cat—he was… a *dog*.
*No, sorry. Even dogs are cuter than Illumi.* Let’s just call him *"scum."*
Enough digression—time for business.
She unceremoniously tugged down Illumi’s collar, revealing the tattoo on his collarbone.
**[mors]**
A line of black, ornate English letters.
As if doubting its authenticity, Meruem traced each stroke of the letters. After all, she’d faked her Phantom Troupe spider tattoo—it was natural to project her own methods onto others.
"Sis." Illumi didn’t mind, his tone cheerful. **"From the moment we signed the contract, I’ve been yours."**
*A tattoo is more romantic than a ring.* Illumi thought. Once he killed Meruem and made her his "partner," he’d tattoo her in the same spot—a symbol of their "love."
*I am yours, because you are also mine.*
Wasn’t mutual possession the essence of "love"?
This "love" perfectly aligned with Illumi’s expectations, and his cheerful tone was utterly genuine.
However, anyone who understood Illumi’s nature and had common sense would recognize his "love" as twisted—incomprehensible by normal standards.
In short, the guy was a *freak*.
"..." Meruem was repulsed by his current cheerfulness.
She withdrew her hand and planted her foot on his abdomen.
**"That’s fine."** Illumi met her gaze with ease. **"But if we continue, it’ll count as your 56th wish—do you want it?"**
"..." Meruem gripped his bangs, studying his expression.
Finally, she [took out] the piggy bank from her *game backpack*.
*Clink.*
A 1-Jenny coin dropped in.
[Pre-Marriage Contract (56/999)]
Though Illumi lacked a *game backpack*, 1-Jenny coins were small enough to carry without hassle. In fact, he’d grown fond of having them on hand. They felt like fragments of Meruem’s body—collect 999, and… no, perhaps fewer would suffice to make her *his* forever.
A dead Meruem would be both family and *not* family.
At the very least, one thing was certain: once the contract was fulfilled, Meruem would share his "life." If he died, she’d become a true corpse.
No matter how things unfolded, no matter how the family handled it, they would live and die together.
Couldn’t that be called the most supreme "love"?
It didn’t matter if Meruem didn’t understand. *He* did—because "love" was tolerance, and Illumi would tolerate *everything* about her.
Still oblivious to Illumi’s "love," Meruem bound his hands behind the chair.
He sat; she stood.
Per their agreement, fulfilled wishes required mutual consent before execution. This prevented Illumi from acting unilaterally—but it also meant he could refuse.
So Meruem couldn’t *actually* maim him. The boundaries were similar to the Zoldyck torture course rules.
Meruem didn’t wear high heels—her go-to footwear was round-toe flat boots. Not pointed, no stiletto heels. Their stomping effect was somewhat… underwhelming.
"..." She [took out] a riding crop from her *game backpack*.
The Zoldyck torture chamber typically used long, flexible whips. What Meruem held was a 70cm short whip—long handle, short lash.
Since Illumi was a top graduate of the Zoldyck torture course, drawing blood should be fine, right?
And no *qualified* Zoldyck would ever make a sound, show pain, or tremble.
*That feels like so long ago.*
The beginning is always the hardest.
Pulling nails, dislocating joints—just basics in Zoldyck assassin training.
Voiceless, Meruem could only scream silently, limbs bound tight, drenched in sweat.
Kikyo kissed each of her bandaged fingers, whispering love, even hand-feeding her. Illumi, undergoing the same training under Silva, received no such pampering. Silently raising his own bandaged hands, he struggled with chopsticks and forks, resorting to a spoon.
**"Meruem."** Kikyo excitedly presented a surprise at her bedside. **"Look at this."**
An ornate box opened to reveal ten tiny nails, neatly arranged on red velvet—like fish scales. They were… *Meruem’s*, the first set Kikyo had personally pulled.
Her own nails, yet they made her scalp crawl.
**"So small, so adorable."** Kikyo picked one up like a gemstone, enraptured. **"Every part of my Meruem is precious—I’ll treasure them."**
Kikyo *loved* Meruem, *cared* for her deeply.
Even when Meruem underperformed in torture class, Kikyo never lost patience or scolded her. Instead, she extended the course until Meruem became a "qualified Zoldyck."
Those extended sessions replaced the exam nightmares that had haunted Meruem in the "real world."
Her grades there had been mediocre. After over a decade of schooling, what stuck wasn’t knowledge but the anxiety of blank test papers—still plaguing her dreams years after graduation.
Post-torture course, Meruem never dreamed of exams again. Only torture.
A sharp ringing, like Kikyo’s shrieks piercing her eardrums.
**[I’m going crazy, I’m going crazy—]**
Meruem jolted awake.
Kikyo’s meticulous training showed in her composure—throughout the memory, she’d remained expressionless, never revealing vulnerability in front of Illumi.
She lifted Illumi’s chin with the whip’s tip.
Of course, *he* wouldn’t show weakness either.
This game could last a long time.
"..."
"..."
Illumi’s shirt hung in tatters from the lashing. Meruem pressed the bloodied tip to his lips—unfazed, he licked it clean.
**"Tastes pretty good."** He licked his lips. **"Don’t you want a try, Sis?"**
"..."
**"Ah, I almost forgot."** He added, **"We tasted each other’s blood back in Meteor City. Sis—"**
The whip struck his cheek, cutting him off.
Blood trickled from his mouth, but he smiled.
**"I just like playing with you."** He knew her doubts. **"Let’s add a wager. No penalty for losing, but a reward for winning. Something small—since it’s your wish, not a contest, it’ll be a light game."**
**"If you win, your next ‘wish’ won’t count toward the total—free of charge."**
**"If I win..."**
He paused deliberately. Meruem crossed her arms, impatience clear.
**"If I win..."**
………………
…………
……
*Sis’s thinking is truly unusual—even knowing it’s the same person, she distinguishes by appearance.* Illumi mused.
"..."
In the end, they played his proposed game.
Victory came unexpectedly. Meruem had assumed the torture course’s top graduate would be tough—she’d even prepared to lose.
"..."
*A bit regrettable.* Illumi tilted his head back against the chair.
But winning or losing didn’t matter.
There’d be more chances.
*What will Sis’s next "free wish" be?*
He couldn’t help feeling eager.
Some time later.
Meruem contacted him, wishing for his company to meet a dangerous, troublesome man:
**[Hisoka Morow.]**