Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Ghost Knocks at Midnight

Beneath the shroud of darkness, a solitary glimmer on the distant horizon stood out with striking clarity. Through the scope of her sniper rifle, Chris gazed at the far-off lights, then turned her head and spoke.

“We’ve reached the target location.”

“Understood, sister.”

Hearing Chris’s words, Eluca nodded, her expression grave as she gripped the laser rifle in her hands and drew a deep breath. Standing beside her, Corona watched with a hint of unease. To be honest, Eluca simply could not comprehend why Faeron had so readily agreed to offer such selfless assistance to someone he had only met once. If, previously, Faeron’s acceptance of the village chief’s request from Apricot Blossom Village could be explained by some innate kinship, then his decision regarding Tyke was utterly baffling; Eluca could not begin to understand or accept it. She could not fathom why Faeron would agree to such a request, especially when he seemed indifferent to Tyke himself. In fact, Tyke had not even been permitted to ride in the Harmony with them, instead being knocked out by Eluca and tossed into the trunk. Faeron had shown no reaction to this. So what was his motive?

“I still can’t accept this, Commander.”

“I don’t need you to.”

Faeron smiled nonchalantly at Eluca’s complaint. Unlike Eluca, who was stewing in silent frustration, Faeron now stood before the full-length mirror in the lounge, meticulously arranging his attire. Delin, once again assuming her maid form, stood quietly at his side, diligently straightening his clothes—collar, tie, jacket, suit, and even the hat atop his head.

To be honest, if Eluca had been born before the Cataclysm, she would have thought Faeron was preparing for a gala or a ball, not going to take a life.

“To do a good deed each day is the highest pursuit of our ideals and beliefs, Eluca. There’s an old saying in my homeland: ‘Do good unto others, and good comes to you.’ Do you understand?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, if you help someone kill, they might help you kill in return.”

Delin added calmly, lowering her head to adjust Faeron’s cuffs. Eluca and Corona stared blankly for a moment, then shook their heads in unison.

“I hardly think Tyke is capable of anything like that...”

“That just shows your understanding is lacking. You’d do well to read the Ruby Book more often—it’ll do you good.”

Once Delin finished her inspection, Faeron turned, smiling as he patted Eluca on the shoulder.

“And you should know, doing good deeds brings joy to the heart. If you can combine it with your own pleasures, it’s even more delightful.”

“...???”

Hearing Faeron’s words, Eluca and Corona exchanged glances, but found no answer in each other’s bewildered eyes. Faeron, however, said no more. He snapped his fingers, and the car door silently slid open. The cold night air rushed in, rousing the two from their drowsiness.

“If you don’t wish to go, then stay here and mind the place. After all, this is my problem, not yours.”

With that, Faeron stepped out of the Harmony. Eluca and Corona watched his retreating figure, uncertain what to do. Eluca hesitated, then clenched her teeth, preparing to follow. But before she could move, a hand rested on her shoulder, halting her.

“Miss Delin?”

Startled, Eluca looked at the cat-eared maid beside her, at a loss for words.

“What are you—”

“I’d advise you not to follow. This is the master’s pleasure, and the thing he dislikes most is having his enjoyment interrupted... Do you understand me?”

“...”

Eluca was baffled by Delin’s words, but Corona nodded emphatically. When she played with Little Bear, she didn’t like her sisters watching either—it always felt too embarrassing. Who would have thought that the commander, a grown man, could be just as shy as her?

“So, we—”

“If you’d like, you can stay here and learn how to brew tea. The master is very particular about it.”

“...Fine.”

The car door closed again, and darkness reclaimed everything. Faeron narrowed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips as he gazed at the trembling Tyke—not from fear, but simply from being shut in the trunk for too long.

“All right, Mr. Tyke. You can go and do what you wish now.”

Hearing this, Tyke hesitated.

“I... I don’t understand, Doctor. You mean...?”

“I’m here to help.”

In response to Tyke’s question, Faeron smiled.

“And I’m only here to ‘help,’ so whatever you need to do, Mr. Tyke, do it yourself. I’ll be on my way.”

With that, Faeron turned and walked toward the faint light in the distance. Once his silhouette disappeared into the darkness, Tyke hesitated a moment more, then gritted his teeth and left in the opposite direction. At the same time, the Harmony, its optical camouflage engaged, silently slipped away, vanishing into the night.

The chill wind swept over him as Faeron strode across the wilderness. He raised his head, gazing at the settlement ahead, a smile curling his lips. The area around the settlement was eerily still, the only sound the wind whispering over the barren land. Along the perimeter, through the tall walls, one could see heavily armed soldiers patrolling the sentry posts, guns at the ready. The searchlights atop the checkpoints spun ceaselessly, turning the darkness into a pool of harsh white light. Clearly, this place was nothing like District Nine. Though District Nine, too, was heavily guarded, its security was more like a business—Blackstone Group’s merchant instincts made their security resemble that of a private firm: strict, but not grave. Here, it felt like a military barracks. Just by looking at the upright stance of the sentries flanking the main gate, the difference was clear.

But, unfortunately, it made no real difference.

“Halt! Who goes there?”

Faeron made no attempt to conceal himself, and as he approached the main gate, the sentries at the entrance quickly spotted him. The vigilant guards wasted no time, raising their weapons and aiming down their sights as they barked their challenge.

But they never managed to pull the trigger.

In the blink of an eye, Faeron, who had been nearly a hundred meters away, appeared right before the two sentries. He extended his hands, and two silver scalpels slid effortlessly into the guards’ throats. The hapless souls could only stare in shock, mouths gaping like fish out of water, but no sound escaped them. Their bodies went slack, and they collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Drawing out his scalpels, Faeron closed his eyes, breathing deeply as though intoxicated by fine wine. Then he opened his eyes again, looking ahead.

“Well, time to do a good deed...”

At that moment, a sharp, piercing alarm tore through the night, echoing across the darkness.