Arabella's heart had stopped once again. The doctor, Scalien's foremost cardiovascular expert, was already over fifty but still spirited and sharp. Adjusting his glasses, he spoke to Marcellus with utmost seriousness, "General Marcellus, this patient is currently in critical condition and cannot withstand further harm. There's a possibility of heart failure, though we need additional tests to confirm the exact cause."
Marcellus was incredulous. "Her? With heart disease? She could take down a tiger with her bare hands!"
The doctor, equally astonished, couldn't understand Marcellus's logic. "General, her ability to overpower a tiger has nothing to do with whether she can suffer or die from illness or injury, does it?"
Hearing the undertone in the doctor's words, Marcellus realized he had overreacted. Composing himself, he took a deep breath and apologized. "I wasn't thinking clearly. Sir, please expedite her diagnosis. She's—she's an important prisoner. There can be no mistakes."
The doctor nodded and returned to his examination without further comment.
Marcellus slumped onto a nearby sofa, watching the medical staff bustle around the bed. Arabella was hooked up to an array of devices, the beeping of the monitors blending into a rhythmic hum that left him slightly dazed. Perhaps it was Arabella's fearsome reputation over the years that had made him forget she was human too—subject to pain, loss, and death. He recalled the time she had been trapped in the mountains, struck on the chest by a tiger during an attack. The blow had left her severely injured. He had secretly followed Cyrus back then and seen her pale face as she lay there—eerily similar to how she looked now.
Could that moment have been when the seeds of her condition were sown?
"Sir, please conduct a thorough examination and make it as detailed as possible. She's suffered many injuries over the years—there might be some hidden damage."
After returning, AE received news from Nicholas that Arabella had been seriously injured and captured by Marcellus. He immediately summoned Scorpion and initiated a call with Marcellus. Marcellus ignored the first call. It was only after AE left a message asking whether he valued his fiancée's life that Marcellus begrudgingly accepted the video call.
On the other end, AE appeared masked, half-hidden in the shadows. A single standing lamp cast mottled, dim light around him, lending a chilling atmosphere.
Upon seeing Marcellus, AE wasted no time. "Release Arabella, and I'll return your fiancée." With that, he waved his hand, and his subordinates dragged forward Ivy, her hair disheveled, mouth gagged, and hands bound as she struggled fiercely. Her eyes burned with hatred as they fixed on Marcellus. She now knew who he truly was. The man she once thought to be a refined gentleman, a supposed ally, had revealed his true face—a heartless, deranged demon. All this after she had laid bare every card her brother had left her, trusting him completely.
Helpless and unable to speak, Ivy could only thrash and struggle desperately, crashing against her restraints, her wide, frantic eyes fixed on the video feed of Marcellus as she shook her head with all her might. Her life was worthless in her own eyes, but if Marcellus had captured Arabella, then let that woman pay in blood for her crimes.
Marcellus sat still, his gaze shifting to the frenzied Ivy. His face betrayed no sorrow, no joy—his inner thoughts unreadable.
Seeing the lack of effect, AE picked up a sharp knife from the table, its blade gleaming coldly. He raised an eyebrow and signaled his men to press Ivy onto the table. With one hand, he tore off the tape covering her mouth, pried open her jaw, and with the other hand, drove the knife down cleanly. A chilling scream erupted as blood sprayed. The hands restraining her released, and she crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain. A bloody piece of soft flesh fell from her mouth.
Beneath the terrifying mask, AE's expression remained unreadable. He calmly reached out, took a handkerchief, and methodically wiped the blood from the blade. His voice was cold and chilling as he spoke: "Marcellus, I'll give you time to think. For every day you delay, your fiancée will lose another part of herself."
"Is threatening people with women the only thing you're good at?"
AE let out a delighted laugh from behind the mask, his tone dripping with malice. "Mr. Ackerley—oh wait, you're General now, aren't you? Congratulations. I'll send you a little gift to celebrate your election. As for your fiancée, she's just an appetizer. You're going to love it."
Raven led his men back through the cave. Familiar with the route now, they suffered no casualties this time. Once they emerged, they didn't linger in Doma at all, heading straight back to Jingle without stopping.
Raven's group didn't dare rest along the way, traveling non-stop for four or five days until they finally returned to the factory in Jingle. A team had stayed behind to guard the place, and when they saw Raven's group return in a state of disarray, they were stunned. The guards had no idea where Raven had taken his men before, but his cold and steely demeanor kept anyone from daring to ask.
Some tried to quietly question the dozen men who had returned, but they remained tight-lipped. After all, Raven had led the group in abandoning Arabella—an act of betrayal they couldn't afford to admit. For now, no one knew exactly what had happened.
Raven holed up alone in a room on the second floor, one that used to belong to Arabella. The bed was spotless, as if Arabella had never slept there.
Still, there was some comfort in the familiarity. Wrapping himself in the blanket, Raven, exhausted from days of sleepless travel, felt his eyelids grow heavy. Before he knew it, he drifted off into sleep.
In his dream, he saw Arabella again, back when they were young. She was sitting on a chair, her gaze dark and brooding. At the time, she hadn't yet mastered the art of faking smiles, and her cold expression carried a hint of malice. A group of children were fighting brutally, and she watched indifferently, silently waiting for a victor to emerge. Someone stood at the edge of the fighting ring, acting as referee while occasionally instructing others to carry away the corpses of the defeated.
Over twenty children fought fiercely. Raven had already defeated two opponents in succession, wounding them but sparing their lives. As he finished his bout with a third opponent and emerged victorious, Arabella called for a halt.
At that moment, Raven had just risen after knocking his opponent to the ground—a half-grown boy, bloodied and with his arm twisted and limp, clearly incapacitated. Raven had no intention of killing him. To him, winning was enough; taking the boy's life was unnecessary.
Arabella approached, her gaze sweeping indifferently over the boy's pitiful state before fixing on Raven. Her tone was calm but sharp as she asked, "Why didn't you kill him?"
Raven met her eyes and replied honestly, "Since the goal is simply to win, why should I go out of my way?"
Arabella said nothing. Somehow, a dagger appeared in her hand, its blade flashing coldly as it spun between her fingers. After a few rotations, she stopped and held it out to Raven. "Kill him, and this dagger is yours."
Raven stepped forward, taking the dagger without hesitation. He understood that Arabella thought he hadn't proven himself without drawing blood. Without any pause, he bent down and drove the blade into the boy's chest. The narrow blade pierced the heart swiftly, causing only a small trickle of blood to seep out—there was no splatter. The boy's scream caught in his throat as he twitched a few times before going still.
"It's done," Raven said respectfully, then reached out to retrieve the dagger, but Arabella stopped him. "He's not completely dead yet," she said coolly. "If you pull it out now, the blood will spray everywhere. Cleaning up will be a hassle."
From that moment, Raven understood exactly what kind of person Arabella was—cold, ruthless, and unyielding, someone utterly undeserving of loyalty. But what could he do? He had followed her. Every move he knew was taught by her. In moments of life and death, she had saved him. Day after day, he had been by her side.
Looking back on his life, Raven felt both confusion and attachment. A person like Arabella, someone with a heart of stone, could still have a softer side. There was someone she was willing to lay down her blade for, someone whose corpse alone was worth her every effort to reclaim.
Raven gripped the dagger Arabella had gifted him years ago. Just like back then, he seized the moment when she wasn't on guard and plunged it into her chest. This time, the blade fell and rose again, and Arabella's words proved true—if the person isn't dead, the blood sprays everywhere. His hands, his face, his vision—all were soaked in vivid red.
"Arabella!" Raven jolted awake, drenched in sweat. It was just a nightmare, but he felt utterly drained.
He climbed out of bed, poured himself a glass of water, and downed it. Before he could catch his breath, his eyes turned cold as he barked, "Come out."
Nicholas stepped out of the shadows with a soft chuckle. "You must really be worn out from all the back-and-forth. You didn't even notice me entering your striking range."
Raven ignored his provocation, responding coldly, "Speak quickly."
"I've drawn AE into the trap. At least he's showing some concern for Arabella. As for Arabella…" Nicholas hesitated. He wanted to ask but didn't dare, fearing the worst outcome, one he couldn't bear.
"Blade and Faceless Ghost attacked together. Naturally, she's gravely injured."
Although Nicholas had braced himself, hearing the news still sent him into a rage. "Damn it! Those two conniving bastards don't deserve to lay a finger on Arabella! If she hadn't planned this herself, they'd be dead somewhere by now."
Raven remained silent, his calm and rational nature prevailing. He knew that Blade alone was a match for Arabella. Adding the highly skilled Faceless Ghost tipped the scales further. Even he could barely fight Faceless Ghost to a draw. If these two joined forces, even without any premeditated schemes, Arabella might not be able to escape unscathed.
"Let's talk business. What about the batch of drugs that was supposed to be smuggled into Scalien?"
Nicholas sneered. "Blade has been hiding under Abyss's cover all these years, but he forgot one thing—Abyss was my creation. If I could build it, its roots will always remain in my hands." "He's just a cop. What does he truly know about the rules of the underworld? It's all surface-level. I've already sent dirt on various Scalien officials to knock them into line and brought in Abyss's best people to handle the drug shipment."
Raven nodded and cautioned, "Be careful. We can't let Marcellus catch wind of this too soon. Master Unknown is still working on something important with him."
Nicholas poured himself a cup of tea and sat down, smiling cryptically. "Don't worry. Arabella has abilities we don't even know about."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't say for sure. It's just a strange hunch I had. I need more evidence to confirm it."
