Lord of Perverted Ladies

The name on the bus stop was the first thing I noticed.

ALISSTER.

I stared at it for several seconds.

Not because I didn’t recognize the place.

Because I did.

Alisster was home.

Or at least, it had been.

The street looked almost exactly like I remembered it.

The same narrow roads.

The same rows of shops.

The same old buildings squeezed between newer ones.

Even the traffic lights seemed familiar.

But something was wrong.

Everything looked slightly older.

Not abandoned.

Not ruined.

Just seven years older than the world I remembered.

Noah noticed my expression.

"You know this place."

"Yeah."

Ryan looked around.

"Well, that’s convenient."

"It shouldn’t be here."

"Why?"

"Because this is where I came from."

Daniel frowned.

"Before the academy?"

"Before everything."

Marcus looked toward the bus that had disappeared around the corner.

"Then we found the right place."

I didn’t answer.

My eyes were still fixed on the advertisement.

My face.

My name.

MISSING FOR SEVEN YEARS.

And beneath it—

LAST SEEN: AUGUST 19, 2019.

I looked at the date again.

August 19.

Yesterday.

Except seven years ago.

My mind struggled to process it.

Yesterday, I had been standing inside the academy.

Before that, I’d been running through impossible worlds.

Before that...

I couldn’t remember.

I looked at Noah.

"What year is it?"

He pulled out his phone.

"2026."

My stomach dropped.

"Date?"

"August 20."

I stared at him.

August 20.

The same day.

Just seven years later.

Ryan looked at the advertisement again.

"Wait."

He pointed at it.

"Seven years?"

"Yeah."

"But you weren’t missing for seven years."

"I know."

"You were at the academy."

"Apparently."

He looked confused.

"How does that work?"

"I don’t know."

Daniel stepped closer to the advertisement.

"Maybe time passed differently."

"No."

The First Reader’s voice came from behind us.

Everyone turned.

He was standing on the other side of the street.

Lucien and the Editor were with him.

I hadn’t noticed them crossing.

"Time didn’t pass differently."

The First Reader looked at me.

"The Story preserved you."

I frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"When you disappeared from the outside world, your existence continued inside the narrative."

"But the world outside moved forward."

"Yes."

"So I’ve been gone seven years."

"From this world."

I looked at the city.

Seven years.

While I had experienced weeks.

Maybe months.

Maybe longer.

But outside...

Seven years had passed.

I looked back at the advertisement.

"Then who killed me?"

The First Reader didn’t answer.

The Editor did.

"No one."

"What?"

"According to the world outside..."

She pointed at the advertisement.

"...you disappeared."

"Then why does it say I’m dead?"

"Because someone declared you dead."

"Who?"

She looked at me.

"Your family."

My chest tightened.

I hadn’t thought about them.

Not properly.

Not since everything began.

I remembered a kitchen.

A dining table.

Someone calling my name.

A voice telling me dinner was ready.

A hand on my shoulder.

Fragments.

Nothing complete.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d forgotten.

"Are they alive?"

The First Reader nodded.

"Yes."

"Where?"

He looked toward the city.

"Alisster."

I swallowed.

"Then we’re going."

Ryan looked at me.

"Now?"

"Now."

Nobody argued.

We started walking.

The city felt familiar enough to hurt.

Every few streets, something triggered a memory.

A bookstore.

A café.

A bus station.

A corner shop.

A playground.

Some memories were clear.

Others felt like dreams.

I remembered buying a cheap umbrella here.

I remembered getting into an argument with someone there.

I remembered sitting on a bench during the rain.

But there were gaps.

Huge ones.

Years of my life that felt like someone had taken scissors to them.

We eventually reached a residential neighborhood.

The buildings became quieter.

Older.

Smaller.

I slowed down.

I knew this road.

My feet remembered it before my mind did.

"There."

I pointed.

A blue gate.

White walls.

A small garden.

My house.

Nobody spoke.

I stood outside for almost a minute.

I didn’t know what I expected.

Maybe an abandoned building.

Maybe strangers.

Maybe nothing.

Instead...

There was a light on inside.

Someone was home.

I walked toward the gate.

My hand stopped above the latch.

Then I heard a voice from inside.

"Did you hear that?"

Another voice answered.

"Probably the wind."

The first voice sounded familiar.

Too familiar.

I opened the gate.

The sound of footsteps approached.

The front door opened.

An older woman stepped outside.

She looked at me.

Her face went completely blank.

The cup in her hand slipped.

It hit the ground.

Shattered.

She didn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

"Mom?"

Her lips trembled.

She took one step backward.

Then another.

"Mom..."

She covered her mouth.

"No."

Her voice broke.

"No, no, no..."

I stepped forward.

"It’s me."

She stared at me.

"You..."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"You’re dead."

I froze.

"No."

"You died."

"I’m here."

She shook her head violently.

"You’re dead."

She turned toward the house.

"Come inside."

I followed.

The others stayed outside.

The living room looked almost exactly as I remembered.

Except older.

Different furniture.

Different photographs.

But the same walls.

The same staircase.

The same clock.

I saw a photograph on the shelf.

My family.

Seven years ago.

I was standing in the middle.

Alive.

Smiling.

My mother beside me.

My father on the other side.

I touched the photograph.

"What happened?"

My mother sat down.

She looked exhausted.

"Seven years ago..."

She wiped her eyes.

"You disappeared."

"I know."

"No."

She looked at me.

"You don’t."

She took a breath.

"You left the house that morning."

"I don’t remember."

"You said you were going to meet someone."

"Who?"

She shook her head.

"You wouldn’t tell us."

"What happened?"

"You never came home."

My chest tightened.

"Did you search?"

"For months."

"Police?"

"Everyone."

"Then?"

She looked toward the photograph.

"Seven months later, they found your phone."

"Where?"

"Near the old hospital."

I went still.

"The hospital."

She nodded.

"Your phone was damaged."

"But you never found me."

"No."

"Then why was I declared dead?"

She looked at me.

"Because someone sent us a letter."

"What letter?"

She stood.

Walked to a cabinet.

Opened it.

Then removed a small box.

She placed it on the table.

Inside was an envelope.

Old.

Yellowed.

My name was written across the front.

ADRIAN CROSS.

I stared.

"Who sent this?"

"We don’t know."

She handed it to me.

I opened it.

Inside was a single sheet.

The handwriting was mine.

Again.

He won’t come back.

My heart sank.

Another sentence.

Don’t look for him.

Then—

If he returns, don’t tell him what happened.

I looked at my mother.

"Did you follow this?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

"Because three days after we received the letter..."

She stopped.

"What?"

"Your father disappeared."

My blood went cold.

"What?"

"He went looking for you."

"Where?"

"We don’t know."

"He’s been missing too?"

She nodded.

"For six years."

I looked down at the letter.

My handwriting.

My family.

My disappearance.

My father’s disappearance.

The person from the hospital accused of murdering me.

None of it made sense.

Then my mother whispered,

"There’s something else."

"What?"

She looked toward the hallway.

"Your room."

I stared at her.

"What about it?"

"We never touched it."

She stood.

"Everything is exactly as you left it."

We walked upstairs.

She opened the door.

My old room was frozen in time.

Books.

Clothes.

Computer.

Desk.

Everything.

Seven years untouched.

I stepped inside.

Something immediately felt wrong.

The room was too clean.

Not dusty.

Not abandoned.

Maintained.

Someone had been taking care of it.

I walked toward the desk.

A notebook sat there.

I opened it.

The first page was dated August 18, 2019.

My handwriting.

Tomorrow I finally meet him.

I turned the page.

He says he can show me what exists outside reality.

Another page.

I don’t trust him.

Another.

But I have to know.

Then the final entry.

August 19, 2019.

Only one sentence.

If I don’t come back, it’s because I chose not to.

I stared at it.

My mother stood behind me.

"I never understood what it meant."

Neither did I.

Until I noticed something beneath the notebook.

A photograph.

I picked it up.

Three people stood in front of the Black Door.

The first was me.

The second was the person from the hospital.

And the third...

My father.

I stopped breathing.

On the back of the photograph was a message.

ALISSTER WAS NEVER THE START.

Then another line.

YOUR FATHER KNOWS WHERE IT BEGAN.

I looked at my mother.

"Where is Dad?"

She started crying.

"I told you."

"He’s missing."

"Yes."

"Then we’re going to find him."

The room suddenly went silent.

My phone vibrated.

One message.

No number.

UNKNOWN:

You found your home.

Another appeared.

Now find the man who left it.

Then—

Your father is alive.

I stared at the screen.

A final message appeared.

And he knows what you were before Adrian Cross.

The phone went black.

I looked toward the window.

Outside, Alisster was beginning to darken under the evening sky.

Seven years had passed.

My life had continued without me.

My father had disappeared.

My mother had spent seven years believing I was dead.

And somewhere in this city...

My father was alive.

Waiting.

I closed the notebook.

Tomorrow, I would find him.

But before I could leave the room, someone knocked on the front door downstairs.

Three times.

My mother froze.

I looked toward the hallway.

Another three knocks.

My old room suddenly felt cold.

I reached for the black key.

Then a voice came from downstairs.

A voice I hadn’t heard in seven years.

My father’s voice.

"Adrian?"

My heart stopped.

"I’m home."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!