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The merman, my man

Chapter 200

The Merman, My Man by Black Velvet Chapter 200

Be that as it may, the dark silhouette was already gone when I swiftly hurried past several bars and

finally arrived at the edge of the bridge. It was no different from when I had looked at the edge of the

canal while I was onboard the gondola not too long ago—there was no one there.

Was that you, Dicken? Where are you? Just now, was that really you?

I stood on one end of the bridge, my soul seemingly disembodied even as I stretched my eyes wide,

searching. I did not care as the downpour pelted me, soaking through my clothes.

Even so, I could no longer see that dark silhouette, and I had to lean on the scaffolding as I gasped for

breath. Looking upon the surface of the river, I found my reflection robbing and left in pieces from the

pouring rain.

The alcohol that I had just drunk was burning my nerves, and my mind was an utter mess. I had to

wonder if I was drunk right then, and was actually seeing things.

To tell the truth, I wanted to cry—but I laughed instead, because I found my crazy behavior laughable.

Eventually, I yelled loudly once in the downpour like a drunkard, clenched my fist and smashed it hard

into concrete, dropped to the floor as I clutched my head, which felt as if it was emptied just then.

Hope seemed to be gradually distancing itself from me, leaving only the sounds of rain. I suddenly felt

utterly lonely, like that poor bug abandoned in the middle of the infinite universe.

Raindrops were sliding under my collar, just like the sea water dripping from Dicken’s long hair. I could

even feel his enrapturing eyes watching me from behind, his larged webbed claws caressing my spine

with determination and purposeful invasiveness, and his icy lips plastered on my nape in a kiss.

That was when I heard the sound of a boat brushing through the river, and turned to find a gondola

turning into an adjacent canal. However, before it made the turn, I could see the black-haired man on it

for a split second, which fully matched the figure of the black-haired man in my memory.

This time, I was completely convinced that it wasn’t just my imagination —it was Dicken, and I was left

shaking by the revelation. The impulse I felt just then made me spring to my feet, and my blood began

to boil.

However, that was also the moment when Mike called out from a distance: “Linda! What are you

doing? Get back here! “

I turned to glance at him but said nothing, and promptly jumped off the bridge and into the river,

chasing the gondola. Like a fish, I swam rapidly and chased after the boat.

Still, the rain was pouring even harder, and it was hard to find my way through the canals amid the

downpour and the growing fog. Even if I could swim far faster than a normal human, I almost lost the

gondola, since I seemed to be inside an underwater maze.

Meanwhile, the gondola continued to cruise rapidly over the canals. Seeing that the silhouette that

bore a striking resemblance to Dicken was about to disappear from my sight as the gondola was about

I was sure that he would hear me after I yelled so loudly, and yet that figure wasn’t slowing down from

the turn at all. By the time I rapidly swiped my limbs through the water and reached the turn, all I found

was the gondola, left floating alone and devoid of all passengers, in front of a pitch-black entrance into

an aqueduct.

The gondola continued to totter in the rain, as if to tell me that the silhouette I was still chasing an