Three years later, at the National Central Police Station.
Taras handed a cup of local tea to the Faceless Ghost, who drank it in one go. The fishy taste made him gag. "What the hell is this?"
Taras smiled and handed over a stack of documents. "Since you're awake, why don't you take a look at these?"
Faceless Ghost muttered, "I knew you wouldn't call me for anything good." He was casually flipping through the papers, but slowly straightened up, his expression turning serious.
After a long pause, he looked up, his expression one of suspicion, and asked, "Someone is imitating Arabella's methods?"
Taras nodded and let out a cold snort. "That person isn't worthy of imitating Arabella."
Faceless Ghost curled his lip, pointing at the stack of files. "But if they're able to imitate Arabella, their skills must be top-notch. Still, killing a student... that's just too strange."
Taras nodded. "Exactly. That's why I came to you. This student is also involved in a cross-border drug smuggling case I've been tracking recently. You know, after AE's death, his territory and influence were quickly divided up. But since last year, someone has been secretly pulling the strings, swallowing up a lot of AE's former power, and I also confiscated this—"
Faceless Ghost took the small packet of white powder tossed to him by Taras. Just by the appearance, he could tell it was top-quality. But as he examined it more closely, his expression changed. "Isn't this the G-11, the exclusive drug AE created? It was even used on Merrick once. But... AE didn't die? That's impossible—he was clearly consumed by flames all those years ago."
"That drug has also been modified. Its toxicity has increased, and its hallucinogenic properties are much stronger. It has a powerful hypnotic and mind-altering effect, causing significant damage to the central nervous system."
"Someone is imitating both Arabella and AE? Impressive. Who's bold enough to do that?"
"I can't say for sure if it's the same person. I need someone to infiltrate that school. Given that the other party is a top-tier assassin, regular police won't do. It has to be you."
Faceless Ghost widened his eyes and retorted, "Why don't you infiltrate?"
Taras touched his own face, feeling a rare sense of embarrassment. "My face doesn't look like that of a student."
Faceless Ghost suppressed his laughter, unusually agreeing, "True, you look tough and aged. But you could be a teacher!"
"Being a teacher won't do. All the leads in the drug case are intricately tied to the students of that school. Only by becoming one of them can you truly infiltrate. These are the credentials for the identity you'll need to assume."
Faceless Ghost looked at the disguise information Taras handed him, and asked with curiosity, "Why this person? Can't I just create any random face?"
"This university is the top institution in the nation. It gathers not only the best students from all over, but also the children of government officials and top-ranked corporate heirs."
"Well, it's an elite, noble school? Am I supposed to disguise myself as the child of some influential figure?"
Taras shook his head. "Of course not. The father of the person you're impersonating is just a nouveau riche, who neglects his child's discipline, leading the kid to squander and stay out all night. Recently, the kid overdosed on the modified G-11 and died. His death was temporarily suppressed by the police, and his parents haven't been notified yet, so you're the best replacement to infiltrate the school. Since the kid was able to consume G-11, he must have contacts with the dealers."
While the police were investigating the case, there was a sense of spring blossoming within the swamp's humble cottage.
AE wore a black satin shirt with the collar half open. At that moment, he was leisurely sipping some ice water, not swallowing it. In front of him, Arabella lay naked on a reclining chair, AE's gaze filled with hidden affection as he slowly leaned down, his lips gently touching her exposed skin. The ice cube he held in his mouth, barely perceptible, slid down her curve. The room was filled with the heady scent of pheromones as their bodies entwined. Arabella, half-closing her eyes, enjoyed the teasing from the man behind her. Despite spending so much time in the swamp, her skin remained fair, and her chest, delicate as pearls, glowed.
When Raven entered the room, the two were still tangled together. Arabella was half-kneeling on the sofa, her waist arched. The bracelet that had originally been wrapped around his wrist, AE, had somehow shifted and was now tightly binding both of Arabella's hands. AE's actions were obviously malicious—lacking any faith, the bracelet was made from top-grade gemstones, intentionally crafted to bind her. Arabella had Norris craft several pieces of jewelry from Cyrus's bones, one of which was a delicate bracelet. At this moment, AE pinned Arabella beneath him, the bracelet around his wrist now wrapped around hers as well. He seemed determined, in a childish way, to prove that the living could indeed triumph over the dead.
Arabella wasn't surprised when Raven walked in. Despite her seemingly lazy posture, she and AE had an acute sense of everything happening around them from afar, and even in moments of physical pleasure, her mind remained alert.
"Raven, come here—" Arabella called out, her voice naturally low and soft, the words flowing smoothly between her lips, as if she were whispering in the most tender way.
Raven's expression remained calm, his broad shoulders and firm posture as steady as always. But beneath his composed demeanor, there was an undeniable desire in his eyes. As he walked toward her, he began to strip off his clothes, revealing a muscular torso. Reaching out, he swiftly seized Arabella's delicate wrist, yanking AE's bracelet off her wrist in one fluid motion. It was a subtle battle between the two men, neither of them showing any outward sign of tension. Arabella remained unmoved. She merely squinted, inspecting the special bracelet still perfectly intact on her wrist. She took a deep breath before leaning into Raven, her body pressing against his. From this close, she could clearly see his handsome brow, the pronounced Adam's apple, and the warmth and hardness of his muscles as her hands traced the contours of his chest, which was firm without being overly broad.
Arabella's back pressed against the sharply defined chest behind her, while AE gently bit the nape of her neck. From behind, he stirred up mischief, his body pressing closely against hers, his legs spread in a posture that exuded dominance. Though Arabella seemed helpless, clinging to the two men, both of them knew that in the next moment, she could easily take their lives if she so wished.
As the three continued, Nicholas entered the room. However, instead of joining, he brought news: someone had imitated the actions of Arabella and AE, and Taras was now investigating the case.
"Dare to sell the things I created all those years ago? Someone must be tired of living," AE said casually, draping a shirt over his shoulders. His tone was flat, yet in the backlight, the long, imposing shadow cast by his figure exuded an unspoken sense of pressure.
Arabella glanced leisurely at the documents brought by Nicholas, pausing only for a moment on the photo of the dead female student. In a soft voice, she murmured, "Their skills are at least on par with the Faceless Ghost."
Nicholas turned to Norris, who was silently eating cookies, and asked, "Could it be someone you're familiar with?"
Norris hesitated for a moment, glancing at Nicholas, with a flash of murderous intent in his eyes. Then, he smiled broadly and playfully threw himself into Arabella's arms, saying, "Arabella, ever since I've been with you, I haven't contacted those people. You have to believe me."
Arabella responded casually. She knew Norris's abilities all too well. When the little wolf cub bared its fangs and claws, it thought itself fierce, but in reality, it was just sharpening its teeth. He had skill, a sharp mind, and great physical ability, and if he trained for another ten years, he would certainly be a formidable opponent. But for now—
Arabella easily grabbed him by the back of the neck with one hand, applying slight pressure as she asked, "Not being in contact doesn't mean you don't know anything. Tell me, hmm?"
Arabella's question made Norris's body go numb. Of course, he would never admit that it was her hand gripping his pressure point. After a brief hesitation, he forced a smile and truthfully confessed, "I heard about it a long time ago. There were two or three people who were particularly dissatisfied with Night Owl's solo-combat rankings. They thought they were far superior to the top-ranked individuals, especially you, Arabella. One of them even contacted me at the time, but I was more interested in you, so I turned them down. After we got together, I cut off contact with them."
"How skilled are they?"
"I haven't seen it with my own eyes, but among the people I know, I'd say I'm one of the best."
"Stronger than you?"
When it came to comparison, the young and impetuous Norris immediately became a little defensive. "I'm just younger than them. Only one person might manage to land a hit or two on me."
With a sharp "slap," Arabella immediately gathered the documents in her hand, her gaze locking onto Norris's eyes, which were as deep as the sea. She spoke softly, confirming, "He's the one who killed, but the person mimicking AE's drug production is probably not the same one. He has accomplices."
Bramwell walked over with a tea set in hand. He had listened halfway and was now surprised upon hearing that someone was mimicking AE's drug production. "When I was undercover, I got intel that everything AE produced had a unique mark. It's very hard to replicate."
AE grunted, "So some brat somewhere dares to play mind games with me, trying to flood the market with counterfeit goods and monopolize what I once controlled." As he spoke, he shot a pointed glance at Norris.
Norris, now only nineteen, couldn't handle the provocation. He slammed his hand on the table and demanded, "Julius, what do you mean by that?"
Sitting next to him, Ferdinand immediately reached out and slapped Norris on the forehead, then pressed him back down into his seat. "Kid, you're really too green. One little provocation and you explode."
The men around Arabella, of course, weren't getting along peacefully. Ferdinand and Norris, two geniuses in invention, had formed a small group due to mutual admiration. Bramwell and Caracal worked together more seamlessly. As for Nicholas and AE, they had a relationship of both mutual restraint and cooperation. Only Raven remained solitary, just as he had in the years gone by. In his eyes, there was only Arabella.
As for the imitation crimes, the group of men each voiced their opinions, most agreeing that the imposter causing trouble outside should be dealt with swiftly—cut down before they could stir up any more chaos.
Arabella sat there with perfect composure, while the others drank tea, she drank wine. As the men argued and bickered, she had already downed a few glasses, the fragrance of the wine slowly drifting through the air, lingering on her lips and teeth. When all eyes turned to her, she smiled, setting down her glass. "The clues are all in the school. To figure this out, we'll have to go there and investigate."
The group of men exchanged glances. Except for Norris, none of them looked like they were suited for the role of a student.
Arabella pointed at Caracal. "You're the best fit to be a teacher."
Over the past three years, Caracal had been using medicine to detoxify his body, but the toxins he had accumulated over the years were not so easily removed. In these years, he had stopped disguising himself, using his true face. His features, naturally handsome, were defined by a sharp jawline that carried an air of resolve. Years of being deprived of sunlight had left his complexion pale, almost sickly, and even after recent recovery, traces of that frailty remained. Wearing glasses, he seemed more refined, but when he adjusted them, the play of light and shadow revealed the somber depths lurking in his eyes.
The men exchanged a glance and silently scoffed. "Fit to be a teacher? What kind of teacher—more like a lurking wolf. His gaze toward Arabella always carries desire. 'Gentleman gone wrong' would be a better description."
"How is he supposed to get close to the students? And on top of that, the ones who died were female students."
Arabella pointed to herself and smiled, "Caracal is just cooperating with me. I'll be the student, does it suit me?"
Well, well— the group of men quickly stopped their mocking. Compared to Arabella, Caracal was definitely a much better teacher.
Is there really a student as ruthless as Arabella?
Who would dare teach her?
