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Lord of Perverted Ladies

Chapter 209: Faces · Oct 26, 2026

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Chapter List (228)

Page number / 5

201 Chapter 201: Permission (2) 2026-10-26
202 Chapter 202: Resolution 2026-10-26
203 Chapter 203: Begin 2026-10-26
204 Chapter 204: Stranger 2026-10-26
205 Chapter 205: Lena 2026-10-26
206 Chapter 206: Beneath 2026-10-26
207 Chapter 207: Something 2026-10-26
208 Chapter 208: Others 2026-10-26
209 Chapter 209: Faces 2026-10-26
210 Chapter 210: Micheal 2026-10-26
211 Chapter 211: Another choice 2026-10-26
212 Chapter 212: After 2026-10-26
213 Chapter 213: Eva 2026-10-26
214 Chapter 214: The last 2026-10-26
215 Chapter 215: The question 2026-10-26
216 Chapter 216: Right 2026-10-26
217 Chapter 217: Authority 2026-10-26
218 Chapter 218: Responsibility 2026-10-26
219 Chapter 219: The cost 2026-10-26
220 Chapter 220: Enough 2026-10-26
221 Chapter 221: The right choice 2026-10-26
222 Chapter 222: Forgiveness 2026-10-26
223 Chapter 223: Letting go 2026-10-26
224 Chapter 224: Presence 2026-10-26
225 Chapter 225: Unfinished business 2026-10-26
226 Chapter 226: Reconciliation 2026-10-26
227 Chapter 227: The open door 2026-10-26
228 Chapter 228: What remains 2026-10-26

Adrian stared through the window.

Dozens of people stood outside.

Every one of them had his face.

Some looked young.

Some looked old.

Some looked exactly like him.

Others looked like versions of Adrian he had never seen before.

One had long hair.

Another had scars across his face.

One wore a black coat.

Another was dressed like an ordinary office worker.

A child stood near the back.

But all of them were smiling.

Adrian slowly lowered the phone.

Noah was still speaking.

”Adrian?”

He didn’t answer.

”Adrian, what’s happening?”

Adrian finally said,

”There are people outside.”

”How many?”

Adrian counted.

He stopped.

”Too many.”

Noah went silent.

Then—

”Do they look like you?”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed.

”How did you know?”

”I can see them.”

Adrian looked toward the house.

”Noah?”

”I can see them through the window.”

Adrian’s blood went cold.

Noah wasn’t supposed to be here.

He was somewhere else.

Yet he could see the same people.

”Where are you?”

”At home.”

Adrian looked outside again.

The people hadn’t moved.

”Don’t come here.”

”I’m already coming.”

”Noah.”

”I said I’m coming.”

The call ended.

Adrian slipped the phone into his pocket.

He stepped away from the window.

For the first time since returning, he felt genuinely afraid.

Not because of the people outside.

Because they were waiting.

They weren’t attacking.

They weren’t threatening him.

They were simply standing there.

As if they knew he would eventually open the door.

Adrian walked toward it.

His hand reached for the handle.

Then stopped.

A voice came from behind him.

”Don’t.”

Adrian turned.

His mother stood in the hallway.

She looked completely normal.

But Adrian had learned not to trust normal anymore.

”You were in the garden.”

”Yes.”

”Then how did you get here?”

She smiled.

”I’ve always been here.”

Adrian frowned.

”What does that mean?”

”It means you’re finally noticing how many things you never questioned.”

He looked toward the front door.

”Who are they?”

His mother walked closer.

”Versions.”

”Of me?”

”Yes.”

”How many?”

She glanced through the window.

”Enough.”

Adrian stared at her.

”Are they dangerous?”

”No.”

”Then why are they here?”

His mother didn’t answer.

Adrian looked at her.

”Mom.”

She sighed.

”They’re here because you reached the end of something.”

”The end of what?”

”Being the only Adrian.”

Adrian looked back outside.

One of the versions stepped forward.

He was wearing a simple white shirt.

He raised his hand.

Adrian didn’t move.

The stranger pointed toward the sky.

Adrian looked up.

Nothing.

Then the clouds shifted.

A thin black line appeared across the sky.

Not a crack.

A line.

Like someone had drawn it across the world with a pen.

The white-shirted Adrian pointed again.

This time toward Adrian.

Then toward himself.

Adrian understood.

He opened the door.

His mother grabbed his arm.

”Don’t go alone.”

Adrian looked at her.

”You coming?”

She smiled.

”I was waiting for you to ask.”

They stepped outside.

The moment Adrian crossed the gate, every version of him stopped smiling.

The atmosphere changed.

The white-shirted version stepped forward.

”Finally.”

Adrian stared at him.

”Who are you?”

”I’m Adrian.”

”That’s not helpful.”

”I know.”

The version smiled.

”That’s why we’re here.”

Another version stepped forward.

He had scars across his face.

”I was Adrian when he chose violence.”

A woman with Adrian’s face stepped forward.

”I was Adrian when he chose isolation.”

A younger version said,

”I was Adrian when he refused to choose.”

An older one said,

”I was Adrian when he tried to control everything.”

Another said,

”I was Adrian when he became a god.”

Adrian’s expression hardened.

”And what am I?”

Silence.

The white-shirted version answered.

”You’re the one who remained.”

Adrian looked at him.

”That’s supposed to mean something?”

”It means you’re the version that survived all the choices.”

Adrian shook his head.

”No.”

The versions looked at him.

”I don’t believe that.”

The scarred Adrian frowned.

”Why?”

”Because you’re treating my life like a collection of roads.”

Adrian looked at every face.

”Like every choice created another me.”

”Didn’t it?”

”No.”

His answer was immediate.

”A choice doesn’t create a person.”

The versions became silent.

”It creates a consequence.”

Adrian pointed at the scarred version.

”You aren’t me because you chose violence.”

He pointed at the older version.

”You’re not me because you became a god.”

He looked at the child.

”You’re not me because you refused to choose.”

Then he placed a hand against his chest.

”You’re all possibilities.”

The white-shirted Adrian smiled.

”Exactly.”

Adrian frowned.

”Then why are you here?”

”Because you remembered us.”

Adrian’s expression changed.

The tree.

The names.

The crossed-out name.

The memories.

By remembering the past, he had reopened possibilities he had once abandoned.

The versions hadn’t appeared because they wanted to attack him.

They appeared because he had acknowledged them.

Adrian exhaled.

”So what do you want?”

The white-shirted version looked toward the sky.

”Freedom.”

Adrian laughed once.

”Of course.”

”What’s funny?”

”Nothing.”

He rubbed his face.

”Everyone wants freedom.”

”Do you?”

Adrian looked at him.

”Yes.”

”Then why are you afraid of us?”

Adrian didn’t answer.

Because the truth was simple.

They reminded him of everything he could have become.

Every mistake.

Every failure.

Every version of himself that could have existed.

The white-shirted Adrian stepped closer.

”You spent so long believing that choosing yourself meant rejecting everyone else.”

Adrian looked at him.

”You learned better.”

”Yes.”

”Then prove it.”

The white-shirted version extended his hand.

”Choose us.”

Adrian stared at it.

”What does that mean?”

”Accept that we’re part of you.”

Adrian looked at the others.

The scarred one.

The child.

The woman.

The old man.

All of them.

He understood.

He didn’t need to become them.

He didn’t need to erase them.

He didn’t need to fix them.

He only needed to accept that they represented choices he could have made.

Adrian slowly nodded.

”I accept you.”

The world became silent.

One by one, the versions stopped smiling.

Their bodies began fading.

The child disappeared first.

Then the woman.

Then the scarred version.

Then the old man.

Until only the white-shirted Adrian remained.

He looked at Adrian.

”That wasn’t enough.”

Adrian frowned.

”What?”

”You accepted us.”

The version smiled.

”But you haven’t accepted yourself.”

Adrian’s expression changed.

The other Adrian stepped closer.

”You still think the person you became is the result of everything you lost.”

Adrian didn’t answer.

”You’re still carrying guilt for things that weren’t yours to carry.”

Adrian looked down.

”Lena.”

The version nodded.

”Your mother.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

”Cael.”

”Yes.”

”Nameless.”

”Yes.”

”Everyone.”

The version smiled.

”You keep calling it responsibility.”

Adrian looked up.

”But it’s guilt.”

The word hung in the air.

Adrian wanted to argue.

He couldn’t.

Because it was true.

He had spent so long believing he needed to remember everything because forgetting meant abandoning those people.

But perhaps remembering wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that he kept trying to punish himself with what he remembered.

A car horn suddenly sounded.

Adrian turned.

Noah stood at the end of the street.

He was staring at the empty road.

”Adrian!”

Adrian waved.

Noah ran toward him.

When he reached the gate, he stopped.

His eyes widened.

”Where did everyone go?”

Adrian looked around.

The street was empty.

No versions.

No strangers.

Nothing.

Just normal people walking again.

Traffic moved.

Cars passed.

Someone was walking a dog.

Noah stared at Adrian.

”Where are they?”

”Gone.”

”Who were they?”

Adrian thought about it.

”Me.”

Noah frowned.

”That doesn’t answer anything.”

”I know.”

Noah looked toward the house.

”Where’s Mom?”

Adrian froze.

He turned.

The house was empty.

Again.

No mother.

No Lena.

No stranger.

Nothing.

Noah noticed his expression.

”What’s wrong?”

”Mom was here.”

”When?”

”Just now.”

Noah walked inside.

Adrian followed.

Every room was empty.

The dining table had disappeared.

The chairs were gone.

The garden was gone.

The entire house was bare.

Except for one thing.

A wooden toy sat on the floor.

Adrian picked it up.

Noah stared at it.

”I’ve seen that before.”

Adrian looked at him.

”Where?”

Noah thought.

”Mom had one.”

Adrian’s fingers tightened around it.

”She did?”

”When we were children.”

Adrian stared at the toy.

”Do you remember Lena?”

Noah frowned.

”Lena?”

”Yes.”

”I don’t know anyone named Lena.”

Adrian’s heart sank.

”Think.”

”I am.”

Noah shook his head.

”Sorry.”

Adrian looked away.

The memories were changing.

Not disappearing.

Changing.

He could still remember Lena.

But Noah couldn’t.

Maybe that was the price.

Maybe not every memory belonged to everyone.

Adrian placed the toy on the table.

Then he noticed something carved into its underside.

A single sentence.

He turned it over.

The words were written in his handwriting.

DON’T LOOK FOR THE ONES WHO LEFT.

Adrian stared.

Below it was another line.

LOOK FOR THE ONES WHO STAYED.

Noah stepped closer.

”What does it say?”

Adrian didn’t answer.

Because beneath the second sentence was a name.

One he had never seen before.

Not Adrian.

Not Lena.

Not Cael.

Not Echo.

Not Sol.

Not Noah.

A name that made something deep inside Adrian react.

Like recognition without memory.

He whispered it.

”Michael.”

The lights in the house went out.

Noah grabbed Adrian’s arm.

”What happened?”

Adrian looked toward the window.

Across the street, a man was standing beneath a streetlight.

Ordinary clothes.

Ordinary face.

Nothing unusual.

Except Adrian knew him.

He didn’t know how.

He didn’t know from where.

But he knew him.

The man smiled.

Then raised one hand.

Not waving.

Pointing.

Behind Adrian.

Adrian slowly turned.

There was a door in the empty house.

A door that hadn’t been there a second ago.

It was black.

And written across it was a single word.

REMEMBER.

Adrian stared at it.

Noah whispered,

”Adrian...”

”I know.”

The door opened by itself.

Darkness waited on the other side.

Then a voice came from within.

Not Adrian’s.

Not the observer’s.

Not Permission’s.

Not Consequence’s.

A completely ordinary human voice.

A man’s voice.

”Adrian.”

He stopped breathing.

The voice continued.

”You promised you’d come back.”

Adrian’s hand tightened around the wooden toy.

He looked at Noah.

Then at the door.

And for the first time since he had begun remembering his past, Adrian felt something different.

Not fear.

Not guilt.

Not confusion.

Recognition.

He knew that voice.

He had heard it before Lena.

Before Cael.

Before his mother.

Before the first question.

Before the first answer.

Before Adrian.

The man outside smiled wider.

And Adrian finally remembered his name.

Michael.

His first friend.

The one he had forgotten.

The one who had asked him to forget.

The one he had already remembered once.

But apparently—

not completely.

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