‘If I truly have a secondary personality, it will prove that I am Mr. Mysterious,’ Cristofer thought. Lost in thought, he unconsciously tightened his grip on his phone. His hand trembled slightly, and the phone’s edge accidentally touched a wound on his palm, causing a slight pain. Strangely, this pain excited him a little. In the bright morning sun, he made a phone call and quickly got through.
“Cristofer, why are you calling me so early again?” Justin, on the other end of the line, said in a sleepy voice after answering the phone.
“Am I bothering you?” Cristofer asked.
“Ahem…” Justin cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. “You must have something important to discuss if you’re calling me at this hour. Just say it.” As he spoke, he picked up a glass from his bedside table.
“Am I Mr. Mysterious?” Cristofer asked.
Hearing this, Justin, who was drinking water, choked and coughed violently. “You…”
“Am I Mr. Mysterious, right?” Cristofer asked again.
After a while, Justin finally stopped coughing and spoke somewhat hesitantly, “Since you’re asking me this question, it suggests you’re not certain. It seems like you haven’t fully remembered everything.”
“This is my speculation based on everything I know. It’s the only possibility regarding Mr. Mysterious’ identity.”
After briefly pausing, Justin said gently, “It’s a long and somewhat complicated story. Where are you right now? I’ll come to see you.”
Cristofer gave him an address, and they agreed to meet at a breakfast diner. When Justin arrived and saw the sparsely decorated and somewhat untidy diner, his expression showed clear dislike.
With a frown, Justin muttered in a low voice, “Are you sure we should talk here?”
Cristofer pushed a glass of milk toward him and replied, “We can talk while having breakfast.”
Shaking his head, Justin slid the glass back. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry. Can’t we find a better place to discuss something so important?”
“Estelle used to love the steamed custard buns at this diner when she was in school. When we were young, I would ride here every morning to buy them for her.”
“You came here for breakfast out of nostalgia?”
“You could say that. I want to revisit some places we used to go together. Maybe it’ll help me regain my memories.”
Hearing this, Justin nodded to indicate he understood. Feeling uncomfortable in the cramped diner, he reached out and carefully pulled the edges of his suit jacket away from the table, wary of staining it with the table’s oil.
“Now, can you tell me if I am Mr. Mysterious?” Cristofer asked.
“Alright. Since you want to know, I’ll give you the full story, but I’ll keep it brief,” Justin replied.
Over the next ten minutes, Justin recounted everything he knew about Cristofer during his time as Mr. Mysterious.
“That’s all I’m aware of. I do not know of other events involving you and Miss Hudson during that period.”
After hearing this, Cristofer nodded and took a bite of the steamed custard bun in his hand.
Observing his behavior, Justin furrowed his brows in confusion and asked, “You’ve learned all of this. Aren’t you excited?”
“I’m extremely excited. Didn’t you notice that I just ate a steamed custard bun?”
“… I can’t tell that you’re excited.”
“I’m actually allergic to milk,” Cristofer explained.
“Then why did you eat the steamed custard bun?” Justin asked in surprise.
“I was so excited that I forgot about it,” Cristofer admitted with a wry smile. “By the time I realized it, I had already finished the bun.”
Amused by his response, Justin chuckled and remarked, “You have a unique way of expressing excitement. It’s rare to see you so thrilled. If your rivals saw you like this, they’d have a good laugh.”
Cristofer also chuckled. “I don’t really care if they laugh at me.”
“Now that you know the truth – you are Mr. Mysterious, and Mr. Mysterious is you. You couldn’t let go of Estelle and unconsciously created a split personality to protect her with the identity of Mr. Mysterious.”
“Yes,” Cristofer nodded and then fell into a momentary silence.
“What’s on your mind? Why are you lost in thought?” Justin asked, looking at him seriously.
Without immediately responding, Cristofer popped another steamed custard bun into his mouth. Seeing this, Justin was alarmed and hastily grabbed Cristofer’s arm, saying, “Spit it out! Do you want to choke?”
“It’s fine. I know what I’m doing. When I ate the bun just now, it triggered some fragments of memory in my mind.”
“Fragments of memory?” Justin questioned.
“Yes. I saw an image of Estelle talking to Mr. Mysterious in my mind just now.”
“What were they talking about?”
“Estelle said she would never leave Mr. Mysterious,” Cristofer replied.
“Anything else?”
Chewing the bun in his mouth, Cristofer suddenly furrowed his brow and clutched his chest in pain.
“What’s wrong? Are you having an allergic reaction?” Justin asked, showing concern.
“Not so quickly,” Cristofer replied. “I just ate the bun, so I wouldn’t have an allergic reaction so soon. Well, I should have listened to you earlier and not eaten the second steamed custard bun.”
“Of course, you shouldn’t have eaten it. You could have had a severe allergic reaction! If you want to regain your memory, there are safer ways to try.”
Shaking his head, Cristofer said with a wry smile, “I’m fine. Don’t worry. When I said I shouldn’t have eaten the second bun, it’s because I remembered something else.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Justin asked.
“No,” Cristofer said, licking his lips, “In the second image in my mind, Estelle told Mr. Mysterious that she would love him no matter who he is, as long as he isn’t Cristofer.”
After uttering those words, they both lapsed into silence.
“…”
Following a prolonged silence, Justin opened his mouth but struggled to find comforting words for Cristofer. Letting out a sigh, he said, “Now I finally understand why you asked me to pretend to be Mr. Mysterious back then. You were a forbidden presence for her. She could accept Mr. Mysterious as anyone except you. If she had known you were Mr. Mysterious at that time, you would have lost your only chance to be by her side.”
Hearing this, Cristofer nodded and added, “I was going to ask you another question, but now it seems there’s no need.”
“What did you want to ask?”
“Since you knew I was Mr. Mysterious, why didn’t you tell me or Estelle directly? Why did you just drop subtle hints at Grandpa’s birthday party?” Cristofer asked, frowning.
Sighing softly, Justin explained, “When I saw you and Miss Hudson getting very close at Grandpa Gary’s birthday party, I thought that maybe, given some time, she would move on from Mr. Mysterious and eventually be with you again. I was afraid that if I told her you were Mr. Mysterious, she wouldn’t be able to accept it and would leave you once more. Then you might never have had the chance to win her back.”