Arabella said she'd take him out for some fun.
Bramwell thought they were going for some amusement, but when night fell, he saw Arabella dressed in black, with her pants tucked in—a sharp look more suited for killing.
In fact, Arabella was indeed going to kill.
At that moment, she stood at a high vantage point, calmly setting up her sniper rifle.
The muzzle was pitch black, hidden within the darkness.
Bramwell stood in a corner, hands empty, looking relaxed. If it weren't for Arabella preparing her weapon nearby, one might think he was out for a leisurely night stroll.
"Master Unknown, don't you need my help?" Bramwell asked, a bit puzzled, unsure why Arabella had brought him along for a kill.
In the darkness, Arabella gave him a bright smile, saying calmly, "When it's time to run, make sure to keep up with me."
Bramwell didn't quite understand what she meant.
It wasn't until Arabella fired a single shot that blew apart the head of the branch leader, that Bramwell realized what she meant by "run."
The entire street erupted. In the southern district of the Destiny, a local boss had been publicly sniped, and his lackeys were now savagely searching for suspects.
After packing up her rifle, Arabella effortlessly leaped from rooftop to rooftop, moving gracefully over uneven corners and sloping roofs.
Bramwell ran until he was gasping for breath, face twisted in anguish, finally understanding what she meant—he was truly sprinting after her, desperate to keep up.
Arabella's combat abilities were unparalleled; who the hell could outrun her? She was like a monkey, nimbly darting across high rooftops.
This wasn't her taking him out for fun; she was clearly having fun with him.
When he reached a rooftop with too wide a gap, he couldn't make the jump and had to rush down to the street, nearly getting spotted and slashed to death by the Destiny's members.
When Bramwell finally arrived at the next vantage point, panting heavily, he found Arabella sitting on the rooftop, casually licking an ice cream with her legs swinging leisurely.
The Island's river surged with humidity, and the mountains were shrouded in mist. At night, the temperature dropped significantly compared to the daytime.
Arabella wore a long coat and trousers, with a tight-fitting zip-up shirt that reached all the way down, revealing only half of her face. The ice cream was half-held in her mouth, white and tilted, its texture wet and sticky.
Occasionally, melted ice dripped down, and she quickly extended her tongue to lick it. Not satisfied, she slid most of the ice cream back into her mouth, sucking audibly.
In the darkness, watching Arabella consume the ice cream, Bramwell felt a shiver run down his spine.
A demon in the dark could also be a source of desire.
After finishing the ice cream, Arabella's eyes gleamed with a smile as she casually tossed the napkin down the side of the building.
The target appeared.
When aiming the gun, Arabella's gaze was intense, like a beast stalking its prey. Her eyes, slightly narrowed, curved with a bloody intensity at the moment her finger pulled the trigger.
Even without looking down, Bramwell knew the target below was dead.
Cries of fear, gunshots, and curses followed as another boss from the Destiny's southern district in Island met his end.
In one night, four of the five district bosses in the southern sector of the Destiny were assassinated. The last one got wind of it, surrounded himself with his men, and hid under his bed, trembling.
Arabella had her fun for the night, took a comfortable bath, and went to sleep.
Bramwell spent the whole night running after her, trying to keep up and avoiding the Destiny to prevent getting hacked to death.
The entire time, he was merely running for his life, with no ability to kill anyone. Only Arabella could pull off killing four people in such a calm, leisurely manner.
His legs were nearly broken from all the running, and as he lay in bed, he was still trembling unconsciously.
He finally understood that Arabella had used him as a decoy.
After all, Arabella was too skilled and could kill undetected, making her an obvious suspect. With him as a potentially suspicious target seen occasionally, the suspicion on Arabella lessened considerably.
When Quentin received the news in the dead of night, three people were already dead. Before he could drive to the fourth gang leader's location, he received more news on the way.
The person was already dead.
Quentin threw his phone to the ground with a sharp snap, and it immediately shattered into pieces.
Several of the gang members identified a suspicious man in black who had emerged from an alley. However, he didn't have a bag that could carry a firearm, so they didn't realize it in time.
After regaining his composure, Quentin sat in the car and carefully considered the suspicious figure.
Killing a few district leaders wasn't particularly unusual—any skilled sniper could do it. But to calmly kill four people without using any transportation? That wasn't something just anyone could accomplish. After all, running alone consumes energy, and for a sniper, restlessness is the enemy of precision.
"A man?" Quentin muttered to himself. He thought about the Night Owl rankings, where only one woman, Arabella, was listed, while the other nine were men. Excluding the unnamed elite agents with code names from various governments, there were only four people in the underworld.
Ranked second, AE was a major drug lord. It made no sense for him to be awake in the middle of the night, crossing an ocean to come to his territory and kill his gang leaders.
Ranked fourth, Marcellus was one of his own, so it was even more unlikely.
As for the one ranked ninth, the mysterious figure behind the Spanka black market—rumors said he was also the leader of the Night Owl organization. He was an unnamed, shadowy figure who preferred to stay in the background. There was no reason for him to suddenly come and kill in the middle of the night.
The remaining possibility was Raven, ranked sixth, who just happened to be Arabella's man. No wonder there were no signs of Arabella herself—she had sent her dog to do the dirty work.
At this point in his thoughts, Quentin's expression turned cold and ruthless. Now that he had a suspect, he could take action.
He quickly ordered all his subordinates in the southern district of Island to search every inch to find Raven.
What he never dreamed of was that Raven had already returned to Kewa with his team, lying low in preparation for the next move.
Meanwhile, the second lady of the Darnley, Ivy Darnley, had just landed and returned to the old headquarters of Destiny in Kewa.
Ivy was an extraordinarily beautiful woman who had studied finance and trade, responsible for managing the family's legitimate businesses.
Today, she wore a fitted red dress that accentuated her waist. Her eyes sparkled, and when she smiled, two dimples appeared, making her look exceptionally radiant and captivating.
The butler stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Welcome back, Miss. I trust your journey went smoothly."
"Where's my brother?"
"The young master is handling business in Island. He specifically instructed that if you returned, you must call him."
Ivy smiled faintly, knowing her brother wanted to inquire about her engagement with Marcellus.
This time, she had accompanied Marcellus back to meet his parents, and with the engagement imminent, it was only fitting to meet the elders.
After tidying up and resting, Ivy dialed her brother's pager.
"Quentin—I'm back," Ivy waved at the camera with a smile.
"Why did you come back so soon? You could've stayed a few more days to build some rapport with Marcellus."
At the mention of Marcellus, Ivy's shyness surfaced, a slight curve forming at the corners of her mouth.
"Well, my precious little princess is shy," Quentin teased, laughing on the other side of the screen.
"Quentin—you're too much," Ivy giggled, playfully acting coy.
After sending Ivy to the airport, Marcellus returned home alone.
Mrs. Ackerley had gone to bed early. Ever since the loss of her son years ago, she had been dispirited and often dazed. Mr. Ackerley stayed by her side, having long since handed military and political power to Marcellus.
Marcellus wore a military uniform, with the cuffs of his trousers neatly tucked into black combat boots. His posture was straight, sharp, and handsome, with a captivating glint hidden within the gleam of the blade.
He went straight upstairs, down the hallway to the last room, and gently pushed the door open.
The room was empty, silent and still, monotonous and gray, devoid of any color or life.
The room's owner had died years ago, never setting foot in it again.
Marcellus walked to the desk, where only one picture frame sat, containing a half-folded photo.
In the photo, there was a young man, simply standing quietly, his beauty subtly revealing the contours of his physical strength. His features were sharp, yet his eyes were clear and full of spirit, carrying an air of openness and shyness.
It was a face identical to Marcellus's, but with softer eyes, bright as stars, and exceptionally beautiful.
Marcellus gently took out the photo and slowly unfolded the other half.
The boy's gaze was fixated on a girl standing beside him, full of attachment and longing.
The young girl was cold and unruly, with an unhidden sense of murderous intent in her brows and eyes. She stood there motionless, not once turning to look at the young man.
Marcellus's eyes darkened as he stared at the indifferent girl in the photo, letting out a cold snort before shifting his gaze back to the boy.
"My dear brother, look at your taste. The woman you risked your life to protect is nothing but a damned beast. You were fool—"
Marcellus folded the photo back to its original state, concealing the girl's face along with another partially revealed face in the corner.
That partially revealed face was identical to the boy in the photo.
As Quentin was frantically searching for Raven, Arabella received a message from him.
It was a single line: "The Miss has returned."
Arabella slowly smirked, her laugh filled with malice. When she was alone, her smile faded, replaced by a sinister thought: Marcellus's fiancée definitely deserved a warm welcome.
