“Mister, today’s lilies have just been shipped by the steam vessel, fresh and fragrant. How about a bunch of flowers for you wife?” A young lady florist recommended the products to Shire enthusiastically.
        Shire, a man wearing a dark blue suit, nodded and passed on with a smile. He was looking for someone. The way he walked was slow yet elegant. Every time Shire saw a crimson flower, he bent over, closed his eyes and sniffed it appreciably.
        “Gentleman, my husband is in his 40s just as you’re, but why does he lack the charisma that you have?” The florist was totally obsessed with him and blurted out.
        Shire turned around, pushed his glasses up and responded in all seriousness, “a wife should be loyal to her husband. Cheating is not accepted, even in your mind.” The man pulled a long face. A sudden change of attitude had completely wiped off the blush on her cheeks. She was stunned for a while.
        While the florist was numb with shock, Shire switched back to a gentle tone. “Please pack it up. It’s my wife’s favorite.”
        Shire left. His pick had sent a chill down her spine. “Did he just buy the red spider lilies…”
        As soon as Shire was back home, his wife give him a hug. “Finally, you’re back. I…” Selena said in his arms.
        Caressing her head, he cut in and gave her the lilies. “Dear, happy birthday.” Then, he grabbed her right hand, carefully examining the wounds. Selena wore a smile as she looked at her husband. “You’re hot in the news. They reported your “artwork” again today.”
        Shire glanced at the newspapers; a monochrome photo of two naked, decapitated bodies were shown in the top page. This reminded him of the thing which had happened yesterday. In a luxurious bedroom, a couple was beheaded in the blink of an eye before they could put their clothes on. The bloodshed painted a picture in his mind.
        “It’s a clean cut. I can’t even hear their screams. Pity,” said Shire. Selena smirked immediately after listening.
        After dining with her wife and daughter, he took a rest in the study room. Shire tapped the desk with his fingers as he hummed the most popular tune of the opera, enjoying the tranquility before a storm.
        Shire took out a black letter from his leather bag. A red spider lily was fixed on the envelope by wax. He opened it, read carefully and grinned.
        “Ottaman, aged 57, a well-off ruby merchant. He has set up an orphanage for the so called “charity” purpose. Actually, he is just a pedophile.” Shire was pondering how to kill this chubby, bald man. Eventually, he had come up with the most “merciful” way to do it.
        Music echoed through a magnificent mansion. A fat, bald man was wolfing down his food while enjoying girls’ dance in the hall. A 9-year old little boy in tuxedo felt awkward standing beside them. He kept adjusting his tight collar.
        The bald man drank the wine, came to the boy in high spirits and cared little about the plates being knocked to the ground by his butt. He grabbed the boy’s shoulder, pulling him upstairs to the bedroom.
        “It’s uncomfortable wearing this, right? Let’s change it. You stand out tonight. Just say it. I’ll give whatever you want.” His lewd eyes were lingering over the kid’s body. That innocent, poor boy trusted him with a nod.
        In the dark bedroom, Shire was waiting at the corner, quietly. His eyes filled with bloodlust, as if a leopard ready for hunting.
        Indulging in lust, the fat man did not notice at all.
        “Mister, why am I doing this?”
        “Be a good boy. Just do what I say.”
        As the fat man was about to succeed, the last scene he saw was the shocking look of the boy. A head, with an incredible expression, was rolling down to the carpet. His bloody body was left on the bed. The boy was utterly speechless at the sight.
        “Isn’t it merciful to die when so close to success?” Shire talked to the head while holding a sharp guillotine.
        “Ahhh!” The boy screamed, losing his control. Shire pulled a long face and cut off his little head fast, which hit the wall and stopped.
        “You’re disturbing.”
        At midnight, the moonlight shone through Shire’s home. A drowsy little girl was leaning against the door with a doll. Shire gently held her up and kissed her forehead. His eyes filled with love. “Goodnight, my little princess.”

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