How to Keep Him from Falling

Chapter 8: She Kissed Danger Itself

After moving the luggage, the little boy finally showed up, grinning as he apologized to her.

Boli had too many things on her mind to bother arguing with him.

Lunch consisted of stew and potatoes. It was awful.

The stew had barely any salt and carried a greasy, fishy smell that turned her stomach. The only thing that was remotely edible was the potatoes, but even the skins had not been peeled properly.

Boli almost wanted to cry while forcing herself to eat.

Still, lunch was not entirely useless. At least she learned the little boy’s name—John. Next time he tried to slack off, she would have a name to shout when she scolded him.

Just like that morning, Eric still did not appear.

Boli began to worry.

Had something happened to him?

What if yesterday’s improvement had only been a brief burst of energy before death? If Eric was gone, how was she supposed to escape from this place?

After lunch, the men gathered to smoke and boast loudly about their adventures, while the women cleaned the dishes and repaired their clothes. A few people surrounded her hiking backpack, trying to figure out how to open it.

Even the manager came over to take a look.

However, he did not seem particularly interested in the strange bag. After exchanging a few words, he simply walked away.

By afternoon, the sunlight finally pushed through the thick fog, and the surroundings became visible.

Only then did Boli realize where they had set up camp.

They were near a swamp.

The air was damp, like a towel soaked in water. A river flowed not far away, its depth impossible to judge. The water was an unsettling shade of green, and swarms of mosquitoes buzzed endlessly above the surface.

Boli knew how to swim, but jumping into a river like that would be no different from committing suicide.

Besides, the original owner’s diary had mentioned that there were crocodiles nearby.

The camp had two other exits, both guarded by men carrying rifles. One of them even had a horse stable.

Boli had never been around horses before. She had no idea they could be so easily frightened. Even the unfamiliar scent of a stranger was enough to make them raise their hooves and cry out in panic.

That meant she had only two choices.

Either she became an expert at handling horses in a very short time…

Or she escaped through the other exit—the one without a stable.

Neither option sounded possible.

It was too difficult.

Boli had considered using the kind of trick that often appeared in transmigration novels.

Perhaps she could give the manager a few modern songs, prove her value, and improve her position in the circus.

But that plan required one important condition:

The manager had to be a normal person.

Unfortunately, this was a man who was willing to preserve unborn fetuses as exhibits.

And this was nineteenth-century Europe, where abortion was illegal. The manager had still dared to risk a lifetime of imprisonment just to display those unborn lives as curiosities.

Boli could not help but wonder—

What other crimes had he committed?

Murder, perhaps?

Even if her negotiations with the manager went surprisingly well, what would she actually gain?

Nothing except becoming even more tightly bound to this circus.

She did not know the exact age of this body, but it was definitely no older than sixteen.

Would a sixteen-year-old girl really be respected by the manager? Would he give her a fair share of the profits and treat her properly?

Of course not.

After thinking it over again and again, Boli’s eyes returned to Eric’s tent.

Other than him, she truly had no other options.

Should she take the gamble?

But soon, another problem appeared.

That night, when the circus held its party, Eric still did not show up.

His tent remained completely dark, without even a flicker of candlelight.

Boli grew increasingly anxious, but she did not dare let anyone notice.

Compared to lunch, the party’s food could almost be called luxurious.

There was beer, fruit wine, pies, smoked ham, roasted potatoes, blood sausage, and meat pudding.

Boli had wanted to try the meat pudding.

However, before she even got close, the strong smell of beef fat and lamb kidneys hit her nose. She immediately stepped back.

Everyone else, however, seemed to be enjoying it.

Being picky about food would only make things worse.

Boli forced herself to pick up a piece of pie and some roasted potatoes. Holding her breath, she swallowed everything down with a mouthful of fruit wine.

After one cup of wine, her stiff and frightened mind finally began working again.

She had been too cautious.

She was afraid to speak.

Afraid to make eye contact.

Even though she knew something was wrong with Emily’s brother—the brother of the “Four-Legged Woman”—she still did not dare to ask anyone about it.

On the surface, she appeared calm and composed.

But in reality, she was terrified.

Terrified that someone would notice she was different, expose her, and put her on trial.

She could not continue like this.

She had to take the initiative.

She had to do things the original Boli would never have done and see if she could change her current situation.

Suddenly, a wave of enthusiastic applause erupted from the front.

The manager appeared among the crowd, pushing Emily’s wheelchair.

He waved at everyone with a warm, friendly smile.

“Emily is leaving soon. She wants to sing one last song for everyone. Anyone want to sing with her?”

Many people raised their hands immediately.

The band started playing a cheerful melody. The crowd gathered around the bonfire, singing and dancing together.

Boli had never heard this song before. It was probably a local folk tune.

While everyone’s attention was focused on Emily, Boli quietly turned around and walked toward Eric’s tent.

But the moment she looked back—

She saw him.

His thin figure stood in the darkness.

The white mask covering his face was painfully obvious in the night. The two empty eye holes looked like those of a wax doll—dull, hollow, and completely detached from everything around him.

He stood there silently, watching the crowd.

No one knew what he was thinking.

As if sensing Boli’s gaze, he suddenly turned his head.

Their eyes met.

It felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head.

A chill crawled up the back of her neck and spread through her entire body. Her instinct screamed at her to take a step back.

But she tightened her grip around the wine glass in her hand and forced herself not to run.

—She had to take the initiative.

She had to do something the original Boli would never have done.

So what if Eric really was the Phantom from a horror movie?

He did not know that she was no longer Boli Clement.

But she knew his past.

She knew his pain.

No one had ever appreciated his talent.

No one had ever wanted to get close to him.

He could not even receive love from his own mother.

That was why he had grown into something almost like an untamed beast—primitive, hostile, and unable to understand ordinary human emotions.

Boli remembered the original story.

How had the heroine managed to tame him?

A kiss.

Just one kiss was enough to make him surrender, enough to make him abandon everything that had been within his reach.

A bold idea slowly formed in her mind.

Even if Eric really was the horror version of the Phantom, someone who would not surrender so easily…

She still wanted to try.

She wanted to know what would happen if she kissed him.

—Do something the original Boli would never do.

Boli looked at him and took one step forward.

Eric stared at her and tilted his head slightly.

It did not seem like he was confused.

It was more like a wild animal adjusting its vision or locating the source of a sound after locking onto its prey.

The thought of him suddenly pulling out a dagger and driving it into her throat made Boli’s legs go weak.

Her stomach felt like it had been filled with stones—cold and heavy.

But she forced herself to stay calm and continued walking.

When she finally reached him, even the air between them seemed to grow thicker.

Sticky.

Still.

Almost impossible to breathe through.

Eric stared directly at her.

Gradually, a hint of suspicion appeared in his eyes.

His gaze felt like a hand, grabbing hold of her.

Under his stare, Boli’s entire body stiffened. She could barely move, and even her voice trembled slightly.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Eric did not answer.

His eyes remained cold and wary.

Boli thought bitterly:

If he really were a wild animal, things would actually be easier.

At least then, she could hold out a finger and let him become familiar with her scent.

Instead, she was standing here like an i***t, allowing him to examine her again and again.

The music grew louder.

The crowd had already begun dancing the waltz.

There were far more men than women in the circus. Some men could not find female partners, so they had no choice but to dance with bearded guards from the security team.

Everyone laughed until they could barely breathe.

For a moment, it felt as if they were living in a completely different world.

Boli took another moment to prepare herself mentally.

Finally, she gathered enough courage to speak.

“Guess what I saw in the storage room today?”

No response.