For many days, Arabella left the two to indulge in debauchery.
But Arabella never appeared again. Every time she left, she would vanish into the darkness, slipping away alone.
She would only return at dawn.
Bramwell was curious about what Arabella was up to and finally couldn't resist asking Raven one day.
Raven's face remained expressionless as he shot him a cold look.
Bramwell realized he had overstepped.
In truth, Raven didn't know where Arabella went or what she did, but after years together, he could more or less guess.
Arabella never relied on others when scouting out her targets. Before setting her evil plans into motion, she always filled her mind with schemes and devious plots.
Every step, every detail, she handled personally.
She trusted no one, only herself.
They were merely pawns in her countless plans.
Arabella indeed went to work, as Raven had suspected.
Usually, opening up new channels for goods required scouting locations, paths, and securing strongholds.
But with vast oceans in between, dividing up the territories of the four countries wasn't easy.
Even if she secured the territory, once she left, others would tear it apart.
Without a stronghold, this venture became a one-off deal.
For a one-time deal, Arabella didn't intend to overthink; she planned to take the most direct approach.
She spent two nights covering every corner of Kewa to familiarize herself with the terrain.
Then, she spent another two nights gathering intel on Kewa's influential figures.
She planned to take a dangerous risk and unleash carnage on the Destiny group's turf.
On the final night, she walked through the mountains under the cover of darkness. Midway, a torrential rain began to pour, the wind howling with ferocity. Particularly Kewa near the sea, the waves surged violently, crashing and tumbling, creating a scene of tumultuous chaos, as if the mountains and the sea themselves were in a great uproar.
Amidst the downpour, Arabella walked alone, calm and unperturbed. Years of bloodshed had left her with nothing to fear.
The ground beneath her was a treacherous mire, each step sinking into deep puddles. The torrential rain battered her, almost blinding her with its intensity.
Yet nothing hindered her progress. Silent and unwavering, her slender figure moved through the pitch-black night, like a shadowy specter, as if she had emerged straight from the depths of hell.
Emerging from the mountains, she came upon a wide road.
On such a remote, rain-drenched night, the road was empty, devoid of people and cars.
Arabella walked along the road, her pace slow and unhurried, as though she were savoring the strange tranquility amidst the pouring rain.
A turn behind her suddenly cut through the storm, the headlights of a car flaring to life. It sped toward her, its sleek black body blending with the darkness, moving silently through the storm, as if it had materialized out of thin air. Only the splash of water from the potholes broke the eerie silence, creating a sound that confirmed its presence.
Arabella paid no heed to the approaching vehicle, her gaze still fixed ahead, her steps steady.
However, as the luxury car roared past her, it suddenly swerved sharply, its tires screeching in protest as it came to a violent stop. The car slid to a halt, its tires grinding against the pavement, coming to rest diagonally across the road.
The rain poured down in torrents, and lightning cracked across the sky, but the car remained eerily still, blocking the path ahead like an ominous shadow.
Anyone else would have retreated in caution, or hesitated to move forward.
But Arabella remained unfazed, uninterested in who might be inside the car.
In a foreign land, she couldn't fathom anyone knowing her.
Still, with her knife ready in hand, she was prepared to deal with any foolish intruder.
Then, the window of the car slid open slowly, revealing the face of a familiar old acquaintance.
Arabella paused, standing still for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Instead of advancing, she took two steps back.
The two steps backward did not escape the notice of the person inside the car, and a cruel, mocking smile spread across their face, eyes gleaming with malice.
His gaze was just as dangerous and chilling as it had been many years ago, enough to make anyone's blood run cold at a glance.
That face!
Arabella would never forget it for the rest of her life.
As for Arabella, it was clear that he still loathed her to the core, wanting to cut her into pieces.
Inside the car, there were three tall and strong men, wearing only tight military-green vests. Their muscular bodies and hostile expressions made it clear they were thugs.
"Arabella?" he spoke lightly, his overly gentle calmness in the rainy night making it all the more terrifying.
Arabella didn't hesitate for a moment. She turned sharply, leaping over the guardrail and plunging into the dense forest of the mountainside.
A rainy night was simply the best time for an escape.
"Go down and catch her. Bring her back alive."
Arabella certainly wasn't afraid of those three burly men.
But as for that old acquaintance, right now, Arabella had no desire for a bloody reunion.
If she could hide, she would; if she could avoid, she would—there was no need to confront him directly.
In the torrential rain, Arabella moved with incredible speed, nimble and agile. She climbed trees and leapt from branch to branch, like a monkey, soaring through the forest with ease.
The car on the road outside also drove along, headlights blazing, decisively surrounding her from all sides.
Arabella's face remained calm, but her mind raced with thoughts.
How had that person traveled thousands of miles to get here?
Was it a coincidence? Or had her whereabouts been leaked, and he'd come specifically for her?
Judging from the way the car had braked suddenly, tonight was apparently a coincidence.
But was it really just that coincidental?
Arabella's movements were swift and startling, and her thoughts grew increasingly meticulous.
The voices of the three pursuers faded into the distance, and the car came to a sudden halt. The man got out and shouted, "Arabella! You miserable stray dog, you still have the nerve to run?"
Arabella ignored him; she never engaged in verbal sparring.
Her movements didn't slow at all, and she ran farther and farther, quickly escaping their encirclement.
A fully black luxury car stopped at the entrance of the Destiny group's headquarters. The guards standing at the door bowed respectfully to the person getting out, while the butler in charge guided the guest through pavilions, towers, and winding corridors.
The Destiny's headquarters was actually a grand, classical mansion. At the center of its deepest courtyard stood a towering tree that reached the sky, evoking awe.
The butler led the guest to the tree, where a stone table and stools lay beneath it, with a row of wine cups set out. A man was smoking and sipping his drink.
"Why are you late, Marcellus?"
"Ran into a mad dog on the way." Marcellus scoffed. Marcellus wore a black trench coat, with a light gray shirt underneath, paired with matching trousers and a silver belt. His long legs were elegantly encased, and when speaking of the vicious dog, his gaze was cold and reckless, seemingly filled with disdain for the creature he referred to.
The man sitting raised an eyebrow; for a "dog" to make Marcellus show his emotions like that, it was likely an old acquaintance.
He smiled, taking a slow drag on his cigarette and exhaling smoke.
The smoke lingered around his lips, adding a touch of restrained allure to his overly refined, handsome face.
The man wore a light blue trench coat, with a pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His hair was somewhat disheveled, falling loosely over his forehead, adding a contradictory sense of unruliness amidst the smoke.
He poured Marcellus some wine and asked nonchalantly, "Which blind fool dared to cross Master Ackerley?"
"Arabella."
At the mention of that name, the man paused, then immediately called out, "Go! Gather all the nearby men. Search for any unknown individuals in the area. Seal off all coastlines."
Marcellus laughed at the response. "Quentin Darnley, you know that dog too?"
"It seems you haven't seen your old acquaintance in a long time. That 'dog' of yours is quite formidable."
Meanwhile, Arabella returned to the inn, climbing directly through the window from the outer wall.
Bramwell pulled out his gun warily, only to see Arabella, drenched from head to toe, coming in through the window. The usual smile on her face was even more pronounced.
Perhaps it was the lightning and thunder behind her, but her smile seemed laced with malice, looking particularly sinister.
Raven also slipped into the room upon hearing the noise. Knowing Arabella better than Bramwell, he immediately sensed that something had happened.
"Leave immediately."
