Marcellus was ultimately unable to continue tracking Ferdinand. When he took a military helicopter to Manor, his father's head had been reattached to his body. From the forensic photos of the crime scene, it was evident that the murderer had struck in an instant, leaving his father unable to even close his eyes—his death, a grim and restless one.
Such a major event naturally required immediate news suppression, at least to prevent the media from revealing the true cause of death. Marcellus stood outside the living room, watching the busy people inside the bedroom. As both a son and a national leader, he seemed to be detached from it all.
When he arrived, he glanced at the wound on his father's neck. The wound was incredibly fine and clean, almost as if the neck had been severed by wire, the head cut off horizontally. The killer was so swift and ruthless, able to execute the murder silently under heavy guard without leaving a trace. This kind of terrifying skill was likely beyond his own.
But how many people could possibly surpass his own skills? Arabella was dead, AE had no reason to act, Blade couldn't be the one, so there truly was no one else. The thought of Arabella's death struck him painfully. Arabella was dead, his brother was dead, and now his father was dead. Although over the years, due to Arabella, he had gradually sidelined his father's power, and their relationship had been tense, he was still his father. To die like this was an untimely fate.
Marcellus suddenly felt exhausted. Looking back at the vastness of his past and present life, he realized he was the only one left. Whether it was love or hate, he had suddenly lost his direction. A flood of regret washed over him—if he hadn't leaked the information back then, would his brother still be alive? If he had let go earlier, would Arabella not have come, and would she not have died?
He had already resigned himself to fate, silently guarding the place where Raven had buried Arabella and Cyrus, numb as he spent the rest of his life. But at this moment, he desperately longed to see Arabella. His heart was filled with a thousand grievances, the pain so overwhelming that he wanted to howl at the sky. He tore away all traces of his rationality, leaving only madness. He truly regretted it—Arabella was dead. He couldn't keep her alive, but was it too much to ask to keep her body after death?
Suddenly, as if everything had become clear to him, Marcellus turned and rushed out. His secretary and the guards urgently called after him, but he didn't even look back as he got into his car and drove off. He was still in a daze, as though he were dreaming. Just not long ago, Arabella had been fighting him fiercely, her strikes brutal and unforgiving, but her eyes had been so bright, her body so warm and soft. How could she just be gone, like this?
While driving, tears streamed down his face, and he wasn't sure who he was crying for. He knew, of course, that from the year Arabella was driven away by the Ackerley family, with her identity and life, this kind of tragic end was inevitable. Setting aside Cyrus's reasons, between him and her, there was always no resolution.
He contacted the private soldiers still tailing Ferdinand and slammed his foot on the gas, madly chasing after Ferdinand's car. When the car was halfway there, he suddenly made a sharp turn. After a gunshot rang out, one of the tires exploded, and the car slid violently across the ground, its tire grinding against the asphalt. He struggled to control the steering wheel and barely passed the other car, managing to turn on the emergency lights and pull over to a safe zone just in time.
Marcellus's expression was one of surprise and confusion. The car was on a spiraling overpass, and the buildings on either side were far apart. To hit the car's tire with such ease outside of sniper range, and even as he was dodging, seemed almost impossible. There was only one person who could do this, but that person had just been executed not long ago.
Just as Marcellus was puzzled, the leader of the private soldiers tracking Ferdinand urgently reported, "Young Master, Ferdinand's car is heading in the wrong direction."
"Isn't he heading toward Manos?"
"Ferdinand's car was indeed headed toward Manos, but he didn't turn at the border intersection. He kept going straight."
Straight ahead?
Marcellus was taken aback, puzzled by Ferdinand's actions. Scalien, being a landlocked country, only had three rivers, and the two most important rivers ran along the borders. Therefore, the developed towns, including the capital, were all located near the borders. However, because the eastern and southeastern borders were adjacent to the disputing country, Jingle, so the capital was set in the northern border area, right next to Manos.
Manos was a country rich in resources, almost as if heaven had blessed it with endless wealth. A small coup had occurred a few years ago but was quickly suppressed. Because of its prosperity, the country no longer sought to plunder others and had maintained a friendly relationship with its neighbor, Scalien. The two countries were closely connected, with capitals located at the borders, and the drive from Scalien's capital to Manos' capital took no more than a day and a night.
Based on Ferdinand driving off with the bodies, Marcellus deduced that Ferdinand must have planned to use a temporary pass issued by the international police to leave Scalien, head to Manos, and then charter a plane within Manos to take the bodies away.
Although he wasn't sure where Arabella had instructed Ferdinand to bury her, Marcellus was certain about Ferdinand's route of departure. If Ferdinand was now suddenly avoiding Manos, where else could he be going?
It didn't seem right to keep driving forward. Heading north along the border, the end of the road led to the deadly Manos Swamps, which bordered Manos. The place was as feared as the Mountains range. Arabella had once rushed into it without a second thought, and Marcellus had thought she would die there.
Had Ferdinand taken Arabella's body, despaired of life, and decided to end his own life in the swamps?
Marcellus's eyes turned cold, and he decisively gave the order, "Find a way to intercept him. Wait for me to arrive. He cannot be allowed to enter the swamp."
At this point, Marcellus had no intention of hiding his purpose. He directly ordered the dispatch of a military helicopter to pick him up. He no longer cared about violating international agreements. If Ferdinand were to kill himself with Arabella's body, where would he ever be able to meet Arabella again?
What Marcellus didn't expect was that just as he hung up the communicator, the private soldiers tracking Ferdinand was ambushed. Bramwell was crouched behind a sniper rifle, his eyes filled with dangerous intent. The righteous appearance he had shown in front of Taras and the others was now gone. Having spent so much time with Arabella, he had long grown accustomed to killing. Now, as he took lives, he showed no emotion. One shot, one kill. After all, he had concealed his true strength for so long that too many had forgotten he was on the individual combat rankings. His skills were far more terrifying than any special forces soldier.
The private soldiers tracking them wasn't many; after all, it was originally Marcellus himself who was following them, and one man alone could easily take on hundreds or even thousands of enemies. Unfortunately—another shot rang out, swiftly killing a dodging private soldier, and Bramwell revealed a malicious grin. Marcellus had fallen into the trap; halfway through, his tire would be blown up by Master Unknown, and by the time he arrived, he would probably only see a field of corpses.
While Ferdinand rushed towards the Manos Swamp with the body, Caracal had already disguised himself as the doctor's assistant and was currently helping the doctor carry luggage.
"Doctor, Master Unknown said she would prepare all the living necessities. You don't need to worry so much." Caracal looked at the two large boxes the doctor handed him, afraid that the doctor might think they were truly going into exile and planned to empty out his entire belongings.
The doctor shook his head and explained, "One box contains items that Young Master Cyrus had prepared for Miss Arabella and left with me. The other box contains the medications I've prepared for Miss Arabella over the years, the best heart and lung medicines."
Caracal immediately voiced his suspicion, "Could it be that Master Unknown is really seriously ill? Is it not just a pretense?"
"At the moment, it's not yet at a critical condition, but she had symptoms of heart failure as early as five or six years ago. If she stops the scheming, the infighting, and the killing, she could easily live another twenty or thirty years. That's why Miss Arabella, upon realizing this, started planning her escape."
Caracal hesitated for a moment and quietly asked, "Did the master know he wouldn't live long, even back then?"
The doctor knew exactly who Caracal was referring to. He sighed slightly and said, "Originally, he wouldn't have had such a short life, but after he and Miss Arabella made their agreement five years ago, the five-year disguise technique accelerated his condition. By the way, you're Caracal, right? The old master asked me to pass something on to you before he left."
Caracal cautiously took the thin piece of paper, tore open the seal, and inside, there were only a few brief words: "My disciple, I'm gone. All deception through disguise comes with a price. The materials used in the disguise technique are toxic, and long-term exposure will result in a shortened life. The so-called three-year term, the five-year limit—beyond five years, that layer of false skin becomes completely stuck, unable to be removed. The bones cannot stretch, and the internal organs can no longer reshape. Though one may fully pass for someone else, it is also the path toward death. I hope, my disciple, that you will follow Arabella from now on, adopt a new identity, and live in peace, using your true face for a long and healthy life."
The doctor saw Caracal's eyes redden, and he sighed, "He got his wish, his great revenge has been avenged."
Caracal nodded, quickly wiping away the tears at the corner of his eyes, and started the car, "Doctor, let's hurry up and go, we need to rendezvous quickly."
Meanwhile, Taras and Faceless Ghost received the news that Marcellus had turned back from the Manor to pursue Ferdinand. This meant he was neglecting national affairs and blatantly violating international treaties, which left them both greatly shocked.
Faceless Ghost frowned as he looked at the message in his hand, then sneered with mockery, "Wasn't he the one who was willing to let Cyrus and Arabella be buried together? Why is he suddenly going back on his word? Now that he knows his father's dead, he can seize all the power for himself and just doesn't care anymore?"
Taras shook his head, "I'm afraid it's precisely Marcellus's father's death that triggered this. Otherwise, based on his character, he wouldn't act so impulsively."
"But who on earth has the ability to silently kill people under such heavy guard, and not only that, but also be a master of hidden weapons? How is it that so many top experts in hidden weapons suddenly appeared?"
Faceless Ghost's unconscious remark caused Taras to freeze for a moment. He suddenly stood up, his gaze growing cold as he looked at the stack of Arabella's case files on the table. Since Arabella had been executed, her case was officially closed, and the international court would archive the case records and seal them permanently.
"Are there many people in this world with skills like mine?"
Faceless Ghost pointed at Taras's face and said, "If you want me to praise you, just say it. Without Arabella, AE is the only one who can barely match you now."
But Taras pointed to the documents on the table and said, "Yeah, there shouldn't be anyone this strong left in the world, how did they suddenly appear?"
Faceless Ghost heard the implication in Taras's words and immediately grew nervous, saying, "Don't be ridiculous. I personally triple-checked her identity, and she was killed right under our noses. There's no way she could have survived by chance."
Taras naturally trusted Faceless Ghost, especially since he himself had personally examined Arabella and even spoken with her—there was no possibility of deception. Moreover, there was no chance of a substitute, as the person he fought in the warehouse was definitely Arabella, no one else had that capability.
This was strange. Could it really be that every generation produces new talents? Was there a new person he didn't know about, coming up to kill? But why would they target old Ackerley?
Before the two of them could figure out what was going on, new information came in from Ferdinand.
"What? He didn't go through the Manos border guard? Where did he go then? The fastest route only leads north to Manos! With two bodies, where else could he have gone? Did he keep heading north?"
As soon as Faceless Ghost hung up the phone, he asked Taras, "Something's off. That kid Ferdinand might be planning to commit suicide. The northern end leads to the Manos Swamp, could he be planning to bury himself with Arabella and Cyrus's bodies in the swamp?"
"If it's Ferdinand, he really might go that crazy. Damn it—how did I not think he would choose suicide? We need to hurry, his actions will only provoke Marcellus more."
At this moment, completely ignoring the private soldiers from the Ackerley family that had originally surrounded him, which had now been reduced to Swiss cheese by Bramwell, Ferdinand floored the accelerator and charged the car, along with the two bodies, into the Manos Death Zone.
The Manos Swamp, the most dangerous place in the world, no less perilous than the Mountains range. It was noon, with the scorching sun high in the sky. The car had barely entered when its wheels suddenly sank deep into the overly lush, almost claustrophobic, primitive jungle, becoming completely stuck and unable to move forward.
Despite the sun hanging high, the dense layers of trees ahead blocked the sky and cast darkness. It seemed like a vast black mouth of death, waiting to devour a person's life.
In this dark jungle, untouched by human presence for centuries, there were countless hidden dangers. At any moment, one might step into a treacherous swamp, where venomous creatures would quickly swarm over the body, devouring flesh and blood in an instant, even the eyeballs would be overwhelmed by a mass of writhing, dark, insect-like creatures. On top of that, the oppressive, humid air was filled with miasma, diseases, all sorts of venomous snakes, wild beasts, and completely unknown predatory species.
Such a terrifying place, where once, in order to survive, Arabella was forced into this desperate situation by the Ackerley family, escaping in incredibly difficulty. Now, at this moment, Ferdinand, without hesitation, charged in with the bodies. After killing all the Ackerley family's private soldiers, Bramwell followed suit, charging in without any hesitation.
Ferdinand stepped out of the car, opened the door, and began to lift the bound and secured body from the back seat. Not far away, the trees swayed, and a shadow suddenly leapt down, moving with lightning speed, heading straight toward Ferdinand.
