hotmtlnovel Chapter 698 It turned back to normal.
Chapter 698 It turned back to normal.
the other side,
"Brother, let me explain! It really wasn't on purpose—the hair dye packaging clearly said 'washable,' who knew it would fade so...so uniquely!"
Sheriff Baden's face turned red as he desperately clung to Joseph's iron-like wrists with both hands, his toes almost leaving the ground, and the sounds he made from his throat were hoarse and urgent.
Joseph's eyes were as cold as an ice cellar, his knuckles turned white from the force he exerted, and he did not loosen his grip on the other person's neck in the slightest.
"Personality?" He gritted his teeth, his voice chilling. "You dyed my blond hair this neither-here-nor-there brown, and now you're telling me that's personality?"
With his other hand, he suddenly grabbed his hair. His once pure, sun-kissed blond hair now looked as if it had been splashed with half a bucket of faded mud. The upper part still had traces of light brown, while the lower part was still a dark brownish-yellow. It was piled up messily on his head, looking like a moldy haystack.
The detective next to him had his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the chandelier on the ceiling, as if flowers had suddenly sprouted from the carved brass lamp.
He unconsciously rubbed his chin with his fingers, muttering to himself, "The pattern on this chandelier is quite unique, it looks like it's from the Victorian era..."
Miss Truth squatted on the ground, pretending to examine the dust in the cracks of the floor, drawing circles on the ground with her fingers and kicking her toes around, without even glancing in their direction.
Who can blame Chief Baden for bringing this upon himself? Remember last week, Mr. Detective had a sudden thought that if Joseph's blond hair were dyed black, he might look exactly like that mysterious DM.
Sheriff Baden patted his chest and assured him there would be no problem. He excitedly ran out and bought a bottle of "special black hair dye," insisting on dyeing Joseph's hair himself.
Joseph reluctantly agreed, thinking it was just a temporary thing to do and he could wash it off afterward. Little did he know that the hair dye was of poor quality and could not be washed off once it was applied.
Joseph felt awkward for several days with his head of jet-black hair, and he couldn't even be bothered to look in the mirror.
After waiting for half a month, the color finally started to fade, but who would have thought that it would only fade by half!
Right now, his head looks like it's topped with a two-tone ice cream cone, dark brown and light brown mixed together, indescribably comical and glaring. When he looks in the mirror this morning, his anger rises rapidly; if he weren't thinking about finding the culprit, he would have smashed the mirror long ago.
“Brother…I was wrong…I’ll never do it again…” Sheriff Baden’s face had turned from red to bluish-purple, his breathing was getting weaker and weaker, and his vision was starting to go black.
He looked at Mr. Deduction and Ms. Truth in despair, but the two were so engrossed in studying the chandelier that one was completely absorbed, and the other was obsessively working on the cracks in the floorboards that they seemed to be deaf and blind.
A glint of ruthlessness flashed in Joseph's eyes, and he tightened his grip even more: "Next time? You think you'll have a next time?" His voice was filled with gritted teeth and hatred. "If I don't twist your troublemaking head off and use it as a football today, I'm not a De La Thornes!"
Just then, Mr. Deduction suddenly exclaimed "Ah!" as if he had discovered a new continent: "Hey, look, there seems to be a spider web on this chandelier!" Miss Truth immediately looked up in agreement: "Really? Where is it? I don't see it." The two of them sang in unison, completely ignoring the nearly suffocating Sheriff Baden and the furious Joseph.
Chief Inspector Baden cursed the two bastards who refused to help him a thousand times in his mind, but all he could manage to squeeze out were a few words: "Help...help me...I...was wrong..." He could feel Joseph's hand tightening, his neck feeling like it was about to be snapped, and that damned two-tone hair was swaying slightly with Joseph's movements, as if silently mocking his pathetic state.
Joseph looked at Sheriff Baden's eyes, which were about to roll back, but his anger did not diminish at all.
He snorted coldly, loosening his grip slightly, but still not letting go: "Want to live? Fine."
His gaze swept over the man's messy, brownish-yellow hair, his tone carrying an undeniable command, "Restore this hair to its original state. If you can't... you can expect to be buried with me!"
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Sheriff Baden practically jogged, half-dragging, half-pulling Joseph into the city's most famous hair dyeing salon.
His face was plastered with a smile that looked more like a grimace as he repeatedly bowed to the approaching shop manager: "Boss! Please! Urgent! Top-notch service! Make sure this gentleman's hair is dyed back to its original color! I'll pay any price!"
As he spoke, he clenched his wallet tightly in his pocket. It contained his salary of more than half a month, and now he was going to have to spend a lot of money.
Joseph stood to the side expressionlessly, radiating a chilling aura that said "keep away."
He crossed his arms, his eyes so cold they seemed to freeze the air, and his half-brown, half-yellow hair stood out starkly under the light, as if silently accusing Baden of his "crimes".
Seeing this, the store manager and staff didn't dare to breathe and quickly led the two to the VIP seats.
"Sir, what color would you like to dye your hair?" a young shop assistant asked cautiously, her gaze involuntarily glancing at Joseph's awful hair color before quickly looking away.
Sheriff Baden blurted out, "Gold! Pure gold! Exactly the same gold as his brother's!" As he spoke, he waved towards the door, "Claude! Come in quickly!"
Claude, who had been leisurely watching the commotion from the doorway, walked in with a smile upon hearing this. His pure, dazzling blond hair shone like flowing sunlight under the lamplight, creating a stark contrast with Joseph's current hair color. "Brother, your look is indeed... quite unique." Claude suppressed a laugh, his expression hardening under Joseph's murderous glare. "But don't worry, you can use my hair color as you like."
The shop assistants' eyes lit up, and they immediately took out color palettes and hair dye, carefully comparing the dye to Claude's hair. Some used color charts to compare repeatedly, while others took out their phones to take pictures and analyze the color tones, busy as bees.
"Found it! This shade is the closest!" a senior hairstylist exclaimed excitedly, and began mixing the hair dye, afraid that if he was a step too slow, he would be frozen by Joseph's aura.
Just then, a sharp-eyed shop assistant noticed Sheriff Baden's neck and exclaimed, "Sir, your neck..." All eyes turned to Baden, where a deep, purplish-blue ligature mark lay on his neck, like an ugly snake coiled around it, looking painful just to look at. "Are you really alright? Should we apply a cold compress?" the shop assistant asked worriedly.
Before Baden could speak, Joseph's icy voice rang out: "He deserved it." His tone was flat, but full of gritted teeth.
Sheriff Baden's smile froze for a moment, then he rubbed his neck with a wry smile, wincing in pain: "Yeah, I deserve it..."
That's right. If he hadn't impulsively bought that bottle of cheap hair dye, he wouldn't have enraged Joseph, and he wouldn't have ended up being choked.
Now, let alone his neck pain, he'd do anything to empty Joseph's wallet, as long as it appeases Joseph's anger.
Seeing this, the shop assistants didn't dare ask any more questions and quickly sped up their work. After the hair dye was mixed, the hairstylist carefully applied it to Joseph, afraid of accidentally offending this "iceberg."
Sheriff Baden sat anxiously to the side, glancing at Joseph's face every now and then, praying that he could get the color right on the first try, otherwise he might really "die" next time.
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The hair dye gradually covered the glaring brownish-yellow color. The hairstylist's technique was so meticulous, it was like sculpting a work of art, with each strand of hair evenly coated with the golden paste.
Sheriff Baden stood beside him, clenching his fists and staring intently, not daring to even breathe loudly—this was his "life-saving project," and if it went wrong, Joseph's gaze would be enough to slowly torture him to death.
The wait felt like an eternity.
Joseph leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes to rest, the chill around him still lingering, only his tense jawline relaxed slightly.
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Claude couldn't stay still, so he wandered over to the bar and watched the staff bustling around. Before long, he started chatting with a young staff member with a ponytail.
"You deal with all sorts of hair colors every day, what's the most outrageous one you've ever seen?" Claude asked with a smile, his tone as relaxed as if he were having a casual chat.
His affable personality caught the attention of the shop assistants, who all gathered around him. "One customer insisted on having rainbow colors, and a gradient one at that. In the end, he looked like a moving lollipop!" a round-faced shop assistant said with a smile.
Claude listened, then suddenly changed the subject: "Actually, I've always felt that people's fears about many things are things they create themselves."
He tapped the bar lightly with his fingertips, his eyes filled with a calmness beyond his years. “Take death for example. Everyone is afraid of it, thinking it’s a monster. But have you ever thought that if you really understood it, you might find that it’s just a silent observer, not scary at all?”
These words quieted the lively atmosphere somewhat.
A bespectacled shop assistant whispered, "But... death means nothing at all."
"Not always."
Claude shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips.
People always like to list a bunch of goals for life: get good grades, find a good job, make a lot of money... But when they actually achieve them, they feel like it's not that different.
In truth, what standard answer is there in life? What matters isn't the final outcome, but the scenery you see along the way, the ease with which you chat with people, the joy of eating delicious food—these moments are the meaning of life. Living itself may be meaningless, but meaning is hidden in every seemingly insignificant moment.
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the mirror in the shop, where Joseph's profile was reflected.
"And another thing, people always like to define things with their own ideas. Take death, for example. Everyone imagines it as a skeleton wearing a black cloak and holding a scythe. How scary is that?"
Claude suddenly laughed, his eyes curving into crescent moons.
"But I think maybe it's not like that at all. Maybe it's just a little kid who likes to eat candy, who needs to hug a teddy bear to sleep, who gets scared in the middle of the night and needs his mom to tell him stories, and who occasionally runs out, gently pats your shoulder, and takes you to see another place?"
These words stunned the shop assistants. After a few seconds, the shop assistant with the ponytail smiled and said, "Sir, your idea is quite unique! But... it seems to make a lot of sense."
Claude shrugged and smiled nonchalantly: "Just a casual thought. Life shouldn't be overcomplicated; being happy is the most important thing."
Meanwhile, in a seat not far away, Joseph, with his eyes closed, seemed to subtly twitch the corner of his mouth, so quickly that it was almost an illusion.
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Alright, the time has come for a life-or-death struggle...
The hair dye was completely washed off and dried, and the original half-brown and half-yellow hair color disappeared without a trace. In its place was a head of pure golden hair just like Claude's, which shone with a soft and dazzling luster under the light, just like Joseph's usual meticulous appearance.
The hairstylist carefully handed the mirror to Joseph, his hands trembling slightly: "S-Sir, please take a look at the result..."
Everyone stared intently at Joseph, who was holding the mirror. Sheriff Baden even made the sign of the cross on his chest—this was a crucial moment that would determine his "life or death." If Joseph even frowned, he might really be walking out of there today.
Joseph slowly raised the mirror, his gaze falling on his hair. His fingers gently brushed through the strands, his eyes showing no obvious fluctuation, his face remaining expressionless, as if he were examining an object unrelated to himself.
(The corner of his mouth rose by one pixel)
Long live!!!!!!
?*??(ˊwˋ*)??*?
Sheriff Baden even wanted to let out a few long howls.
“I survived!!!”