Chapter Text
Rain.
The night in the Eastside had never felt so frigid and oppressively dense. Those raindrops, carrying a razor-sharp chill, tore through the darkness, crashing harshly against the heavy armor on my shoulders before shattering into countless microscopic mists. I absolutely loathe downpours like this. It fails to wash away the filth of the world; instead, it only serves as a grim reminder of the metallic stench of mud, blood, and corpses. It drags me violently back to the fragmented memories buried beneath the quagmire of the DisSea tragedy three years ago. The year N.F. 103. The year my entire squad-comrades who had braved life and death by my side-was covertly sacrificed for a sordid political chess game orchestrated by the upper echelons.
Paradeisos.
A mere fleeting thought of that name is enough to ignite a pitch-black fury surging within my chest, incinerating every cell, clawing at my eardrums. I instinctively grind my teeth, my jaw muscles tensing, pressing hard against the icy edge of the metal mask locking away the lower half of my face. Yes, I have to wear this muzzle, like a rabid dog in need of chaining, to restrain myself, to prevent the maddening Mania from devouring my last remaining shreds of sanity. I survived hell, crawling out from the mound of my brothers-in-arms' corpses, bearing a survivor's guilt as heavy as a boulder. I live only for vengeance.
On this very dreary, storm-swept night, an urgent directive was issued to the Framework Against Catastrophe (FAC) command. The radio channels shrieked with panicked voices. The security perimeter at Erica Villa, one of the most extravagant and heavily fortified private residences in the Eastside, had been completely breached. Mania abominations were swarming the premises. The most ridiculous, the most ironic twist of fate thrust upon me on this foul night, was the identity of the person besieged and waiting for death inside that manor. An official of Paradeisos.
When the commanding Sergeant relayed the situation over the comms with a trembling voice, stating that the Minos Bureau of Crisis Control (MBCC) forces could not intervene-because their legendary Chief was confirmed missing or dead, leading to the total collapse of the MBCC's Sinner control system-and that the FAC had to immediately dispatch rescue personnel, I wanted to laugh. A sardonic, arid, and bleeding laugh. Paradeisos's hounds being torn apart by the very subterranean monsters of this city? How exquisitely fair. Let them perish. Let them be eviscerated, let them taste the absolute despair that my squad once endured in the abyss. My feral instincts screamed at me to stand by, light a cigarette, and watch that villa burn to ashes.
Yet my rationality, honed by three grueling years of weathering the storm, dictated otherwise. The one trapped inside was a Paradeisos official. A living chess piece. If I could step inside, masquerading as a devoted bodyguard to keep her alive, I would possess the perfect pretext. A golden opportunity to infiltrate their internal network, to extract intel, to systematically climb that rotten ladder of power and plunge a blade into the throats of those who ordered the massacre of my team. She wasn't a human being; she was merely a key.
- "I'll go." - my voice echoed, hoarse and fractured through the mask's filter. - "Alone."
No one in the FAC command center dared to stop me. No one wanted to accompany me either. They knew I was an S-rank Sinner, a reckless soul, a slaughtering machine unleashed only when a situation was utterly hopeless. Turning my back, I strode out of the base, ignoring the apprehensive and wary glances cast from behind. The roar of my heavy-duty motorcycle's engine ripped through the curtain of rain. I sped down the highway leading from the bleak outskirts toward the glamorous Eastside. The wind slashed at my face like a razor, yet it sharpened my focus. Flickering neon lights reflected off the drenched asphalt. The extravagance of the Eastside always made me nauseous. This place was built upon the blood and bones of society's dregs, of the FAC soldiers shoved to the front lines as cannon fodder. Tonight, I would drag the grime of the front lines straight into that cradle of aristocracy.
Erica Villa loomed before me like a dying fortress. The intricately forged, gold-plated iron gates were bent and shattered like cheap toys. Everywhere, the crimson glare of corrupted Mania mingled with fresh blood pooling on the perfectly manicured lawn. The air grew dense, reeking of a metallic tang, scorched iron, and decay. The manor's security forces lay scattered-some dead, others wounded and groaning. I squeezed the brakes, the motorcycle skidding across the brick pavement, sparking a blinding trail of friction before coming to a dead halt. I kicked down the stand, unhooked my colossal shield, and gripped my weapon with my other hand. Right in the center of the grand fountain in the courtyard stood the silhouette of a woman. Surrounding her was a pack of howling Mania beasts, ready to tear apart anyone who dared to intervene. That mysterious Sinner, the one harboring the ambition to assassinate the Paradeisos envoy, looked up at me. Beneath the rain, I saw her lips curl into a smirk-the smile of a predator who had grown bored of her old prey and found something far more entertaining. But she didn't linger. Seemingly recognizing the overwhelming surge of Mania erupting from me, or perhaps having other calculations in mind, the woman retreated into the shadows.
- "Don't even think about running!"
I roared, but she vanished, leaving only the horde of Mania beasts as a barricade.
- "Come here, you filthy mutts..."
I whispered, feeling my heart rate accelerate, the Sinner blood boiling in my veins. The perpetually suppressed fury had finally found an outlet. I charged into the center of the monstrous pack. The sounds of snapping bones and tearing flesh echoed dryly. Every swing of the shield, every slash carried the lethal precision of a battle-hardened soldier. I paid no mind to the claws shredding my drab canvas jacket. I ignored their black blood spurting, staining my vision. The reaper's scythe danced in my hands. In less than five minutes, the front courtyard of the villa had transformed into a literal slaughterhouse. The last monster collapsed at my feet, convulsed, and dissolved into streaks of corrupted Mania mist. I exhaled a long breath, shaking the filthy blood droplets from my weapon.
- "Freeze! Drop your weapon!"
A trembling shout echoed from the manor's main entrance. A man in a black suit, an Erica Villa Security Chief badge pinned to his chest, aimed a handgun at me. Behind him stood the few remaining guards, faces ashen, weapons tightly gripped.
I stood up straight, the darkness and rain obscuring part of my face, though my metal mask and piercing gray eyes were unmistakable. The Security Chief swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the mangled monster corpses I had just crushed and the oppressive level of Mania still radiating from my body.
- "You... You're a Sinner! Don't come any closer!"
He yelled, hands shaking violently. Fear was etched deeply into his voice. How pathetic. Were these the people Paradeisos paid to protect their lives? I furrowed my brow slightly. Had it been in the past, I would have lunged forward and snapped his arm in the blink of an eye, teaching him a lesson about never pointing a gun at the one who just saved his life. But I held back. I needed a cover. I needed to get inside. Slowly, using one hand, I plunged my weapon into the cracked earth, raised both hands to chest level to show I had no intention of attacking, then gradually reached into my inner coat pocket. A few tense clicks of guns being cocked rang out. I pulled out my rain-soaked FAC military ID and tossed it; it glided through the air, landing at the Security Chief's feet. I spoke clearly, my register deep and gravelly:
- "Rahu. Sergeant of the Framework Against Catastrophe, Anti-Mania Mutation Squad. I was ordered here to assist in cleaning up the scene and protecting the target per your emergency request. The MBCC isn't coming. You only have me."
The head of security bent down to pick up the card, his gaze sweeping over the vivid red military seal. He still hadn't completely lowered his gun.
- "But... you are a Sinner. Your contamination level is too high. How do we know you're not in league with that witch who just attacked this place? How can I let a monster like you into the envoy's home?"
A flash of rage sparked in my brain. But I forced myself to swallow the insult. I coldly pointed at the dissolving Mania corpses.
- "Look around. If I wanted to kill you and your boss, I wouldn't have wasted my energy cleaning up this trash. Furthermore..." I took a step forward, radiating the oppressive aura of a veteran who had walked out of death, forcing the guards to step back. "Your defensive lines are completely shattered. Monsters might have already slipped inside. Do you really think you can protect your VIP with those pathetic pistols? Move aside. Either you let me do my job, or tomorrow you can carry your own severed head to report to Paradeisos."
Silence enveloped the tense seconds that followed. Finally, the Security Chief bit his lip and slowly lowered his weapon. He signaled his subordinates to clear the way.
- "Alright. But I'll be keeping an eye on you. The target is in the safe room on the second floor. No one is allowed to enter unless she summons them."
- "Fine by me."
I replied curtly, yanking my weapon from the ground and storming straight into the main hall. That entire night was an exhausting series of cleanup tasks. I patrolled the opulent corridors, trampling the expensive Persian rugs with my blood-and-mud-caked boots, exterminating the minor Mania remnants left behind. I checked every blind spot, collecting the strange Mania energy trails left by that mysterious Sinner. Everything had to be done meticulously.
The night dragged on. I stood out in the hallway, leaning against the freezing marble wall, listening to the incessant patter of rain against the glass windows. The Paradeisos VIP, someone named Shalom, was still sound asleep inside the safe room. I thought to myself, how absurd. While I, a person bearing the scars of countless battles defending this wretched city, had to stand guard in soaking wet, bone-chilling clothes, my enemy was sleeping on a warm goose-down mattress, completely oblivious to the cruelty outside. My contempt for that unseen woman grew with each passing hour. I had already prepared every scenario in my head. Tomorrow, when she woke up, she would look at me with half-lidded disdain. She would pinch her nose at the stench of blood on me. She would order me around like a slave. And I would bow my head in compliance, hiding my vengeful glare, awaiting the day I could dig her grave.
I had calculated everything. Except for one thing.
It wasn't until nearly noon the next day that the safe room door finally opened. The rain outside had ceased, giving way to weak morning sunbeams filtering through the stained glass windows, casting speckled light onto the floor. The Security Chief walked over to me, jerking his chin.
- "The envoy is awake. She wishes to see the one who handled the monsters last night."
I took a deep breath, pushing my aching body away from the wall, and followed him.
The ajar mahogany door was pushed open. The expansive room was flooded with light. The atmosphere here was entirely distinct from the outside-it was tranquil, immaculate, and carried a faint, delicate floral scent, cold yet incredibly refined. In the center of the room, sitting on a velvet-upholstered armchair, was a woman. My footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second.
She... no, she... didn't resemble any of the portraits of the Paradeisos elite I had so bitterly imagined. There was no arrogance, no patronizing plumpness, nor the sharp haughtiness of noblewomen who treated human lives like dirt. She wore an elegant, minimalist outfit that exuded a natural aristocratic grace, embracing her slender, tall figure. Her long, silver-tinged wine-colored hair cascaded softly over her narrow shoulders. Her skin was pale, nearly transparent under the morning sun, utterly flawless. What made my breathing feel constricted were her eyes and her smile. When I walked in, looking like a ragged vagabond-my drab canvas coat crusted with dried black blood, the metal mask obscuring half my face, my hair disheveled and matted from the rain-she didn't recoil. She didn't frown. Her serene eyes, like an autumn lake, gazed directly at me.
- "So, this is the sole FAC reinforcement I was told about."
Her voice resonated. Sweet. Soothing. Warm as a moonlight Sonata. That sound slipped past my eardrums, strangely pacifying the frantic throbbing in my temples. She stood up, walking toward me unhurriedly. Every movement exuded an unbelievable elegance. When she stopped just an arm's length away, I could clearly smell that pristine fragrance. It completely overpowered the rusty stench of fresh blood on me.
- "I am Shalom." - She smiled. A perfect, gentle smile, containing a reverence I never thought I would receive from a Paradeisos affiliate. - "The head of security mentioned you cleared out all the chaos outside single-handedly to protect me. I've been very much looking forward to meeting you upon waking up."
Looking forward to meeting me?
My heart skipped a beat. The hand tightly gripping my weapon's handle unconsciously loosened a fraction. Every defensive scenario, every sarcastic, venomous remark I had mentally prepared shattered. A colossal contradiction slammed into my psyche. My enemy, my target, the representative of the system that slaughtered my comrades, was a woman so seemingly fragile, frail, and harmless. Looking at those narrow shoulders, looking at that pristine white neck completely devoid of any defense in front of a dangerous Sinner like me, I suddenly realized she had no capacity to protect herself. She was no different from a spider lily blooming amidst a battlefield; just one strong gust of wind, or a swing of my arm, and she would be crushed.
Simultaneously, something prickled beneath my skin. A chilling sensation shot down my spine. Her excessive calmness. Her flawless, unblemished composure. Standing before a bloodthirsty killer like me without blinking an eye, her smile maintaining an immutable curve. It was like looking at a magnificent masterpiece that lacked the most authentic core of humanity. Too exquisite. Too perfect.
- "That is my duty."
I replied, forcing my tone to be gruff and aloof to dispel the indescribable itch creeping into my chest.
- "I am Rahu. Whatever threatens your life, I will crush it."
Shalom blinked softly, her smile seemingly deepening a fraction. Her gaze swept over my mask, over the tears on my shoulder.
- "I know you would, Sergeant Rahu. Those scars... they are proof that you have sacrificed yourself for others. Truly honorable. A true knight."
…
I was never a knight. I was a stray dog surviving hell, a person with a rotting soul. Yet this woman looked past my filthy exterior and called me a Knight with a voice so sincere, without a trace of pretense.
I blinked, the muscles constantly tensed for defense suddenly relaxing. A bizarre train of thought emerged. I told myself that Shalom was probably just a low-level official, a naive puppet thrown out as bait by Paradeisos. She knew nothing of the darkness, nothing of my comrades' deaths. To harbor hatred for such a frail, delicate, and gentle woman was truly a cowardly act.
Deep down, where instincts dictate the most authentic truths, I recognized a tiny seed of emotion, or perhaps a blind desire to protect, covertly sprouting. I despised weakness, yet I suddenly wanted to become the sturdiest shield to ensure those pale hands would never have to touch the sordid blood pools of the underworld.
But I wouldn't allow myself to yield. Not now. I cleared my throat, stepping back half a pace to create a safe distance from the fragrance that was scrambling my mind.
- "The enemy from last night fled, but she could return at any moment. The security of this villa is currently as flimsy as scrap paper. You... Shalom. Please continue to rest. It is best not to leave the room. I will go out to review the entire security perimeter and re-establish the defense line."
- "I understand. I am counting entirely on you, Sergeant Rahu."
Shalom nodded obediently, an entirely voluntary surrender of her life glinting in those tranquil eyes. I turned my back, walking swiftly out of the room, the wooden door closing behind me. I stood in the corridor, placing a hand over my chest, which was beating a beat faster than usual beneath the armor.
The mahogany door clicked shut behind me, completely severing the silent space filled with that pure scent inside. I froze in the middle of the hallway, leaning against the cold marble wall, eyes squeezed shut.
My heart was still missing beats. Beneath the tactical armor and the drab coat caked in dried black blood, my chest heaved uncontrollably. Her scent, that elegant, aloof, yet caressing and lingering fragrance, still haunted the tip of my nose. I raised my leather-gloved hand, staring at the grimy bloodstains. This hand had swung a shield to shatter the skulls of countless Mania creatures, had closed the eyes of comrades fallen in the DisSea swamp. It was born to destroy, to claw, to exact vengeance. Yet just minutes ago, it had trembled in confusion when facing a woman completely incapable of self-defense.
- "What the hell are you doing, Rahu?"
I hissed through my teeth, the voice fractured through the metal mask's filter. I delivered a fierce punch to the adjacent wall. The impact sent a sharp pain through my knuckles, but it successfully yanked me from that damn reverie. Sensitivity, compassion... those were luxuries a feral dog surviving hell wasn't permitted to have. Especially toward someone bearing the name of Paradeisos.
I took a deep breath, forcing the frigid hallway air into my lungs, reawakening the instincts of a soldier. Facade or not, fragile or naive, that would be sorted out later. Currently, my mission was to keep this "key" named Shalom alive. And to achieve that, the pathetic security system of this manor needed to be torn down and rebuilt from scratch.
I took long, heavy strides echoing down the hallway, heading straight for the front yard. Last night's rain had stopped, yielding to an ashen, heavily clouded sky. The pallid noon light illuminated the once perfectly manicured garden that had now become a desolate battlefield. Monster blood mixed with mud, snapped tree trunks, and a scorched stench wafted through the air. The Erica Villa guards were bustling about-some carrying stretchers, others welding the destroyed iron gates. In the middle of the mess stood the Security Chief. He was smoking, holding a tablet, his forehead wrinkled into deep crevices, constantly barking at his subordinates in a shrill, panicked voice.
I approached, my towering figure eclipsing even the meager light casting upon him. Startled, he hastily put out his cigarette, his eyes still holding a degree of apprehension and defensiveness upon seeing the Sinner who had slaughtered an entire pack of monsters last night.
- "What's the casualty status?"
I asked bluntly, without beating around the bush. He cleared his throat, trying to regain a facade of authority.
- "Three dead, five severely wounded. We are trying to restore the infrared cameras and laser grids on the outer perimeter. Paradeisos hasn't sent reinforcements yet, so we have to use automated systems to compensate for the lack of manpower."
I rolled my eyes, scanning the area, assessing his so-called automated systems. The corner of my lips smirked beneath the mask. A bland, highly contemptuous smile.
- "Useless." - I spat out the word, sharp as a blade.
The Security Chief flushed, his neck veins bulging as he argued:
- "What did you say? This is an S-tier multi-layered security system of the Eastside! Its cost is enough to buy an entire FAC battalion of yours!"
- "Yes. Expensive. Flashy. And idiotic."
I stepped forward, snatching the tablet from his hands before he could react. I swiped my finger across the villa's thermal map, pointing directly at the flashing blind spots on the screen.
- "As a Sergeant, let me teach you a lesson in survival. First, the laser grids on the west and south wings are stationary, creating a fan-shaped blind spot of about fifteen degrees near the fountain area. Last night, that Sinner and her monster pack used this exact blind spot to rally before swarming in. Second, your infrared cameras are completely scrambled by Mania radiation. They're only useful for catching thieves, not for combating monsters born from the abyss."
I tossed the tablet back against his chest. He fumbled to catch it, sweat forming on his brow.
- "Monsters don't walk through the front gate to ring the doorbell, Mr. Security Chief. On the front lines, a tactical deployment mistake like yours would cost an entire squad their lives. You are protecting a Paradeisos envoy, not guarding a gala. If you want the target to survive until tonight, do it the FAC way."
He swallowed hard, the arrogant ego of an Eastside resident finally crushed by the bloody reality that had just unfolded.
- "Then... how do you want to handle this, Sergeant?"
- "Shut down half of the automated systems, divert that power to the anti-Mania magnetic field generator in the center of the villa. Deploy physical barricades-use armored vehicles, use concrete, use whatever you have to block the blind corners on the west wing. Divide the remaining men into three teams. One sniper team on the roof, two mobile patrol teams crisscrossing in a figure-eight pattern around the perimeter. And absolutely do not rely on machines. Use real eyes, use real ears. When the foul stench of Mania appears, machines can't smell it, but humans can."
I outlined every defensive point, detailed down to the smallest loophole. I calculated bullet angles, wind direction, and even the guards' panic if attacked again. I did all of this with an astonishing dedication, so much so that I myself shuddered and questioned my own motives. Why was I trying so hard? Why was I exhausting my military experience just to build the safest glass cage for a Paradeisos woman?
To get information. To exact revenge.
I repeated that mantra in my head like an empty requiem. Yet every time I closed my eyes, instead of the images of enemies needing extermination, the image of Shalom's frail shoulders and tranquil smile surfaced. She wasn't like them. A traitorous voice whispered in my ear. She was too delicate to belong in this filthy world.
When the outer perimeter was fortified to my exact specifications, and the Security Chief had scurried off to execute the orders with a much more respectful attitude, I turned on my heel and headed back to the villa.
Inside the building, everything seemed relatively tidied up. The air conditioning's cool breeze swept away the garden's stifling heat. I strode down the second-floor hallway carpet, intending only to walk past Shalom's room to survey the situation, to ensure the core of this defensive layer remained secure. I told myself I wouldn't go in. I didn't want to face that smile again today. It was too dangerous for my rationality.
Just as I turned the corner toward her luxurious suite, I halted. Someone was standing in front of the door. A young girl, perhaps only eighteen or nineteen years old. She wore a crisply ironed black-and-white maid uniform, tailored with extreme finesse. The most striking feature was her snow-white hair braided neatly into two pigtails cascading down her shoulders. In her hands was an intricately carved silver tray bearing a steaming ceramic teapot, a few exquisite bite-sized pastries, and a hydrangea blossom in a small glass vase.
Hearing the heavy tread of military boots approaching, the maid startled and turned around. Her eyes widened upon seeing me. It made sense. A towering 181cm giant, covered in scars, wearing a coat stained with dried blood, and donning a murderous-looking metal muzzle, this was not a sight an Eastside maid was accustomed to seeing. The silver tray in her hands trembled slightly, the teacup clinking against the saucer, echoing in the quiet space. She took a step back, pressing against the wooden door, her timid gaze filled with fear.
I stopped about two meters away from her, trying to slump my shoulders, reining in the killing intent and Sinner pressure radiating from me.
- "I'm not going to kill you." - I spoke, trying to make my voice sound as un-gruff as possible. - "Are you a worker here?"
The maid blinked, seemingly realizing my tone carried a protective nuance rather than a threatening one. The fear in her eyes gradually gave way to a spark of curiosity and... admiration? She took a breath, regained her composure, stood up straight, and bowed slightly.
- "Yes... yes. I am Rosa. I am the personal maid assigned to attend to Lady Shalom during her stay at Erica Villa."
She said, her voice clear as wind chimes. Then Rosa's eyes lit up, staring at the tears on my shoulder.
- "Are... are you Sergeant Rahu? The FAC soldier who single-handedly drove away the monsters to save Lady Shalom last night?"
I frowned slightly beneath the mask.
- "How do you know my name?"
Rosa smiled, a radiant smile overflowing with gratitude.
- "Lady Shalom told us. This morning, when she woke up, the first thing she did wasn't checking her belongings or panicking about the attack. She called all the surviving staff together, asking if any of us were injured. And she instructed us, if we meet a tall female soldier in a black coat, to treat you with the utmost respect. She said you are a benefactor, a knight who protected everyone."
My heart was once again gripped by a senseless, invisible force. Those two words again. Shalom didn't just say that to me to win me over in a moment of peril. She also proclaimed it to the servants here. Why? Why would a high-ranking Paradeisos official, people who always viewed their subordinates as trash, care to announce the name of a lowly grunt like me in front of the staff?
- "She... I mean, Lady Shalom... said that?" I muttered, avoiding Rosa's gaze. "I was only doing my duty. There's no need to deify it."
- "Not at all, Sergeant Rahu!"
Rosa shook her head vigorously, her white pigtails swaying. The girl seemed to have completely shed her initial fear, stepping forward, her eyes sparkling with adoration for her master.
- "You don't understand. Lady Shalom... she is truly wonderful. I've worked as a maid in this Eastside district since I was fifteen. I've served countless nobles and officials. They... they usually treat us as tools, run errands, berate us, or even use us as meat shields when things go wrong. But Lady Shalom is completely different."
Rosa recounted passionately, her voice brimming with genuine affection. I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall, trying to appear indifferent to her story, but my ears perked up, absorbing every single word. I was maddeningly curious about the real person behind that flawless facade.
- "She has never raised her voice at anyone in this villa…" - Rosa continued, her dreamy gaze drifting toward the closed door. - "She is always smiling. Whenever I bring her tea, she personally takes it, asking if my work is tiring today. Would you believe it, last week, upon hearing that the head chef's mother was severely ill down in the Syndicate district, Lady Shalom used her privileges to send the best medicine down there, and even gave her paid leave. She always knows how to make those around her feel respected, to feel like they are living as actual human beings."
I bit my lip silently. Rosa's words were like needles piercing my skepticism. A Paradeisos official caring about the mother of a chef from the bottom rung of the Syndicate? That organization was notorious for its inhumane policies, for human experiments on Sinners, for bloody massacres to cover up the truth. How could someone who grew up and worked in that cradle of evil retain such purity and compassion?
Rosa whispered, as if revealing a massive secret:
- "She always looks very peaceful, but sometimes, when standing alone on the balcony looking toward the gloomy sky of the West District, her back looks so lonely... She's like a canary trapped in the glass cage of Paradeisos. She is incredibly intelligent, very refined, but she is completely incapable of defending herself amidst this violent world..."
My military mind and the paranoia of someone bearing deep emotional scars screamed a warning. Be careful, Rahu! This is Paradeisos! Everything could be a trap. The one who appears the most harmless is usually the one wielding the knife that stabs the deepest!
The portrait of Shalom that Rosa had just sketched inadvertently matched perfectly with what I had personally felt. The gentleness, the unconditional surrender of her life, the serene smile that didn't waver in the face of death. If all of this was an act, then this woman named Shalom had to be a demon wearing the face of a saint, the most terrifying psychological manipulator humanity had ever birthed.
But... what if it was the truth? What if Shalom was truly just a puppet official exploited by the organization? What if she was genuinely a kind woman, an outcast among the starving wolves of Paradeisos? What if her goodness wasn't fake, but the only feeble rebellion she could muster against a rotting system?
I felt my head spinning. The internal conflict ripped my logic into pieces. Half of me wanted to draw my weapon, storm into that room, put a blade to her neck, and force her to spill all of Paradeisos's secrets. The other half, the half I despised so deeply yet couldn't deny, wanted to walk in there, kneel before her, kiss that pale hand, and swear to use this very life to protect her from all the filth of this world.
- "Ms. Rahu? Are you alright?" Rosa's call pulled me back to reality. The girl was looking at me with worried eyes.
I jolted, hastily straightening up, coughing dryly to hide my fluster.
- "It's nothing. I was just thinking about rearranging the patrol formation. Take the tea in to her. It's getting cold."
Rosa smiled and nodded.
- "Yes. You've worked hard. Thanks to you, Lady Shalom and all of us are safe. She was right; you truly are a knight."
Saying so, the young maid gently knocked on the mahogany door, politely announcing her presence before pushing it open and stepping inside. As the door opened, I caught another whiff of that familiar fragrance, mingling with the warm scent of rose tea. Through the ajar gap, I caught a glimpse of Shalom's silhouette sitting by the reading table. The sunlight cast upon her profile, beautiful and strangely distant. She looked up, beaming a radiant smile at Rosa. The door closed. I was left alone in the empty hallway.
I raised a hand to my chest. The heartbeat beneath the armor was pounding powerfully, painfully, yet overflowing with a strange vitality I thought had died that day in DisSea.
- "A harmless, fragile flower... or a velvet-draped abyss?"
I whispered into the silent void, my voice hoarse, laden with exhaustion and conflict. I didn't know the answer. A predator's intuition told me something was off about this woman, a chilling stillness hiding beneath the perfect exterior. Yet the heart of someone too weary of blood and betrayal yearned for the warm light, fake or genuine, radiating from her. No matter who she was. Whether she was a saint accidentally trapped in the quagmire, or a venomous snake using kindness as a toxin to manipulate me. I would uncover the truth. I would personally strip away every layer of her facade, exposing the darkest secrets that Paradeisos was hiding.
The second-floor corridor of Erica Villa was steeped in a silence so profound I could clearly hear the blood coursing beneath my skin. Rosa had departed long ago, leaving me alone facing the closed mahogany door. The atmosphere here was entirely removed from the fiery, putrid battlefield outside. It was clean, tinged with the scent of velvet roses and floor wax. A flawless, sterile world, a place where people like me were supposedly never allowed to enter.
I stood there, leaning against the cold marble wall, arms crossed over my chest. I should have resumed patrolling. That incompetent Security Chief needed supervision, and the blind spots on the western perimeter still unsettled me. But my feet, my military boots caked in mud and dried black blood, felt nailed to the thick velvet carpet. I couldn't take a step. My mind was still trapped in the tangled web of suspicion and the damn fluttering that had just kindled.
She is Paradeisos, Rahu. I reminded myself, trying to evoke the images of my comrades' corpses in the DisSea swamp to extinguish the absurd softness creeping into my chest. A harmless flower? No. In Paradeisos, nothing is born without venom.
I took a deep breath, intending to turn and leave. But just then, a voice echoed from the other side of the door.
- “Sergeant Rahu. Are you still standing out there?"
The voice wasn't loud, just enough to pierce the thick wood and reach a Sinner's acute hearing. It was soothing, warm, and carried a strange certainty. I flinched, muscles involuntarily tensing. How did she know I was here? I had deliberately suppressed my breathing, forcing my heart rate to the absolute minimum. A normal person absolutely could not detect my presence through a closed door. A creeping chill ran down my spine. The beast's intuition rang its warning bells once more.
- "Come in. Don't stand out there forever."
I pursed my lips, hesitating for a long moment. Instinct told me to refuse, but my armored hand automatically reached out, touching the cold brass doorknob. The lock clicked softly. I pushed the door and entered.
The room was flooded with light. The floor-to-ceiling windows of this suite fully embraced the faint morning rays. In the midst of that opulence, Shalom sat on a velvet armchair next to a small tea table. She had changed into an ivory loungewear dress, the soft silk draped over her slender curves. Her long silver-tinged wine hair was swept neatly over one shoulder, revealing a pristine white neck. Surrounding her, on the table, the windowsill, and the mother-of-pearl inlaid cabinet, were dozens of colorful flower baskets. Roses, daffodils, hydrangeas, lilies... The room looked more like a nursery greenhouse than the refuge of a government official who had just escaped death.
Her eyes turned toward me. The stillness in those eyes remained completely intact, just like last night, as if a blood-drenched soldier exuding killing intent walking into her bedroom was the most obvious and normal thing in the world.
I stood rooted at the threshold, suddenly feeling my existence in this room become profoundly grotesque. I was too filthy. I was the embodiment of violence, of death. My drab canvas coat reeked of blood and rust. The invisible wall of class disparity and worldviews weighed heavily on my shoulders.
I raised a hand to my face.
My fingers touched the metal clasp at the back of my neck. Click. The lock snapped open dryly. The compressed air inside escaped with a soft hiss. Slowly, I removed the metal mask obscuring the lower half of my face. I had never done this in front of a stranger, especially a protection target. The mask was a cage for the madness of Mania, but simultaneously, it was the sturdiest shield concealing my frailty, my confusion, and the scars slashing across my left eye.
Standing before Shalom, it seemed an invisible force had stripped away my defenses. Perhaps because the atmosphere here was too peaceful. Perhaps because her smile harbored no fear. Taking off the mask felt like a silent surrender. I wanted to breathe the same air as her, unfiltered by any mechanical membrane.
Shalom's eyes widened slightly, a flash of surprise fleeted past incredibly quickly before being submerged in her perpetual gentleness. Her gaze swept over the harsh contours of my face, lingering briefly on the faded scar at the corner of my lips, but conveying absolutely no disgust.
- "You look... much more relieved taking that off."
Shalom spoke, accompanied by a soft smile. She gestured toward the empty chair opposite her.
- "Come here. The tea is still warm. Rosa just brewed it. Would you like a taste?"
I swallowed hard. My throat was bitter, constricted. I looked down at my hand, then at the bone-china teacup, its delicate gold rim steaming on the table. This hand was used to gripping weapons, used to snapping monster necks. If I held that cup, I might accidentally crush it. I didn't belong here. Her gentleness was suffocating me.
- "No, thank you, ma'am. I am a guard. My duties do not include enjoying tea."
I remained in place, keeping a safe distance. Shalom didn't press. She merely withdrew her hand, lifting her own cup to take a small sip, her demeanor so graceful one couldn't bear to look away.
- "You're too rigid, Rahu." Shalom said softly, calling my name so naturally it made my heart skip a beat. "In this room, there are no superiors or subordinates. There is only me, and my lifesaver. You can relax a little."
I saved you because I need you alive so I can exact my revenge. If you knew the real reason behind this protection, would you still smile and invite me to drink tea? That thought stabbed into my chest like a knife, but I quickly suppressed it.
- "How is your health status?"
I changed the subject, clearing my throat to reclaim my military composure. My gaze swept over her fragile body, assessing her vital signs. No external wounds, steady breathing, and though pale, it wasn't the lifeless pallor of the sick.
Shalom set the teacup down, interlacing her fingers on her lap. She tilted her head slightly, looking at me.
- "Thanks to your timely intervention last night, I am completely unscathed, not even a minor scratch. On the contrary... the one whose health should be inquired about is you."
Her eyes stopped at my shoulder, where the canvas coat was ripped open by a monster's claws, exposing a dented patch of tactical armor stained with streaks of black blood.
- "I told Rosa to find a first-aid kit, but the girl said you wouldn't let anyone near." - Shalom gently reproached, her voice mixed with a hint of sorrow that left me stunned. - "Those wounds... must be very painful. Are you just going to leave them like that?"
- "Just a few surface scratches. They'll heal on their own."
I brushed it off, deliberately turning my body at a slight angle to hide the bleeding arm. For a close-combat Sinner like me, injuries were daily occurrences. Physical pain had never bothered me. What bothered me now was the way she looked at me. That genuine concern made me feel weak. And I hated weakness.
- "Are you always this strict with yourself, knight?"
Shalom whispered, a phantom sadness lingering on her smiling lips.
Silence engulfed the room. I didn't know how to respond. My usually sharp mind seemed frozen before this girl. I averted my eyes around the room, and my attention once again collided with the colorful flower baskets piled up all around.
- "The people of Paradeisos seem to really favor ostentation."
I blurted out, raising an eyebrow at a massive white orchid basket tied with a red silk ribbon.
- "In the midst of the villa being attacked, security in chaos, they don't send reinforcements or weapons, but they send... flowers?"
Hearing this, Shalom chuckled softly. Her laugh was crystalline, yet carried a profound irony.
- "You're right. They favor flashiness over practicality."
Shalom said, her elegant fingers reaching out to gently stroke a blooming velvet rose petal on the table.
- "When news of last night's attack reached the center, the upper-tier officials panicked. But instead of finding a way to resolve the threat from The Garden, the first thing they did was send these. Flowers, handwritten cards, hollow wishes for good health. They know I like flowers. And they think that filling this room with the most expensive blooms in the Eastside will prove their concern and loyalty to me."
I smirked, a cold snort escaping my throat.
- "Pathetic sycophants. Do they think you'll use flowers to bludgeon monsters to death if those assassins return? Or do they plan to use this fragrance to mask the stench of blood if you die?"
My venomous words didn't seem to offend Shalom. On the contrary, she looked at me with an appreciative gaze. Shalom nodded, her eyes turning back to the flower basket.
- "A very astute and practical perspective of a soldier. They send flowers every day. The most perfect blooms, pruned without a single thorn..." - Her voice suddenly dropped, becoming vague and distant. - "...No matter how much I like them, I could never care for a single branch myself."
I frowned slightly, curiosity crossing the boundary of my defenses.
- "Why not? You just need to water them. You have a dozen servants in this villa, after all."
- "It's not a matter of water or light." - Shalom shook her head, her fingers sliding off the petal, letting it bounce back softly. - "These flowers... they are too fragile. They are radiant, yes, but their roots have been severed. They are brought here merely to show off their colors for a few days, to serve a decorative purpose, and then they will wither, rot, and be thrown into the trash. Just like those who sent them. And just like..."
Shalom paused, her eyes darkening for a moment, a dismal abyss revealing itself before she could cover it up with her usual soothing smile.
- "...Just like so many things in Paradeisos."
She finished her sentence, a confession wrapped in silk but packing devastating lethal force.
My heart jolted. What did she just say? Was she comparing the power-holders of Paradeisos to cheap, severed flowers? Or... was she comparing herself to them?
I stared at Shalom. Under the morning sun, her skin was transparently white, beautiful and fragile like a mirage that could dissipate at any moment. Suddenly, I realized the truth behind these flowers. They weren't gifts. They were shackles. Those in the upper echelons didn't send Shalom flowers because they cared about her; they wanted to remind her of her place-that she was an exquisite ornament, a rootless doll, locked in the gilded cage of Paradeisos to serve their political schemes...
The chill within me was no longer a suspicion of her ambitions, but a horror at how Paradeisos treated their own people.
- "You... don't like your job at Paradeisos?"
I asked, my voice significantly lowering, unusually timid. This was a question that crossed a bodyguard's limits, but I couldn't stop myself. I thirsted to know. Shalom looked at me, the corners of her lips curling into an understanding smile.
- "Working there... is like being a giant machine that never rests, Rahu. Every day, I have to process countless documents, face exhausting meetings, and cold calculations. My time does not belong to me. Neither does my will."
She intertwined her hands, resting her chin on the back of them, her gaze directed toward the window where gray clouds were rolling across the Eastside sky.
- "The attack last night... was truly a disaster for Erica Villa. My entire schedule was canceled. Communications with the center are temporarily severed for security reasons. Meetings are postponed. Reports are shelved. For my superiors, this is a crisis. But for me..."
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, as if savoring the rare draft of air unpolluted by the stench of power and schemes.
- "...For me, this incident, this delay in work... feels like a privilege. A brief respite I never dared dream of. Here, right now, no one is pushing me. No one is demanding I make cold-blooded decisions. I just need to sit here, gaze at these soon-to-be withered flowers, and enjoy a moment of true peace."
Peace...
That word coming from her mouth sounded so bitter and agonizing. A high-ranking envoy of the city's most powerful faction had to rely on a bloody assassination attempt that nearly took her life just to find a few hours of peace? I clenched my fists, my leather-clad nails digging deep into my palms. The tangled mess in my head snapped. All reasoning, all vigilance, all class hatred I had been desperately clinging to shattered before this naked, heartbreaking truth. Shalom was no demon. She wasn't the mastermind behind the tragedies. She was merely a victim, too. A canary imprisoned in a glass cage, a woman so utterly frail and gentle, exploited by that tyrannical system to the point where she had to seek solace in an attack. Her stillness wasn't the confidence of a manipulator, but the ultimate resignation of someone who had lost the ability to resist.
Shalom opened her eyes, looking straight at me. Her gaze was as soft as a touch, piercing through the thick armor, through the hideous scars, touching directly upon the softest part of the soul I had kept hidden at the bottom of the abyss.
- "The reason I can sit here with a clear mind, enjoying this peace... is precisely because you are out there. Because I know, as long as you stand there, nothing can shatter this moment of mine. Your presence... has helped me so much. Thank you, Rahu."
…
Thank me?
I opened my mouth, intending to say something. Intending to tell her not to be so foolish, that I was a rabid wolf bidding my time to tear out the throats of those in the same boat as her. Intending to say that this peace was fake, and I didn't deserve that gratitude.
My throat felt bitterly choked. My eyes burned.
I looked at the woman smiling before me. Pale skin, soft hair, tranquil eyes holding profound solitude...
The silence within the room was so profound that I could discern every labored tick of the mantel clock. I remained standing there like a statue carved from stone and oxidation, my cold metallic mask once again obscuring the vulnerability I had inadvertently revealed moments ago. Within the chaotic swirl of conflicting emotions and the suffocatingly elegant scent of Shalom, a sequence of characters flickered in my mind like an open, festering wound.
05257885
It was an identification code. The designation of the person who had orchestrated the entire operation at N.F. 103, who had driven my FAC squad into the death valley of DisSea, turning them into soulless corpses beneath the mud. For the past three years, this string of numbers had been etched into my cortex, haunting every sleep, becoming the sole reason I continued to breathe the polluted air of this city. The individual bearing code 05257885 belonged to the upper echelons of Paradeisos. That person was the grim reaper. That person was the objective.
I shifted my gaze to the woman sitting opposite me. Shalom. Her skin was alabaster, her expression serene, her fragile shoulders slumped beneath robes of ivory silk. She was one of them, Paradeisos. Regardless of how she had been persecuted, or how she had been reduced to a severed "doll" as she herself had sarcastically remarked, she remained a cog in that corrupt machine. An opportunity, I told myself, struggling to reawaken the predatory instincts lurking within. I must ask. If only as a test.
I spoke, carefully modulating my voice through the mask's filter to sound casual, detached, devoid of any hint of bloodlust or hatred.
- "Lady Shalom. As a person of Paradeisos, you surely must be familiar with your organization's personnel structure and identification systems?"
Shalom lifted her eyes; the tea in her cup had ceased to steam. Her deep violet eyes shimmered like crystal gems under the dim, hazy light of the Eastside afternoon.
- "Personnel structure? That is a rather macro inquiry, Sergeant Rahu. It depends on which department you are referring to. Is there something specific you are concerned about?"
- "Merely curious about the operational mechanisms of the upper hierarchy."
I lied, as smooth and cold as a frontline report to my superiors.
- "I happened to... overhear an identification code during a previous mission. It was quite unique, unlike the FAC format. 05257885. Have you ever heard of or seen this numeric sequence in any internal Paradeisos documentation?"
My heart hammered against my ribs. Every nerve felt as taut as a bowstring, waiting. I scrutinized her, not missing a single blink, a twitch of the brow, or the slightest change in her breathing pattern. If she knew, if those eyes betrayed even a flicker of panic or deceit, I would know immediately. I would know that this harmless canary was, in truth, a link in the machinery that had crushed my comrades.
Nothing.
Shalom tilted her head, her wine-colored hair sliding along her slender shoulders. She remained silent for several seconds, eyes half-closed as if searching through a vast library of memories, seriously contemplating my question. Then, she opened her eyes, meeting my gaze with a clarity and sincerity that felt cruel. She shook her head gently.
- "05257885... A rather strange string of digits. I am afraid, Rahu, I have never seen or heard of this code in any document to which I have been exposed. Paradeisos's structure is extremely insular and fragmented. There are tiers of encryption that a personnel member like me has no authority to access."
She paused briefly, her voice soft and tinged with mild curiosity.
- "Does that code... belong to a dangerous criminal? Would you like me to report it to the security department to assist the FAC in their sweep?"
- "No." - I replied immediately, cutting her off. My voice was sharp, though I quickly forced it to soften. - "Not necessary. As I said, it is just an old detail, a remnant of a past mission. It carries no value at this moment. Please, do not concern yourself."
Shalom offered a faint smile, not pressing further. Her respect for boundaries only made me feel like a pathetic hypocrite. I stood there, faced with her serene denial, and a complex tide of emotions surged in my chest-a chaotic blend of relief and crushing disappointment.
The relief stemmed from my foolish, treacherous heart breathing a sigh of relief. How fortunate. She knew nothing. She was unrelated to the villain behind that code. She was exactly what I and the maid Rosa had imagined, an ordinary functionary, a decorative tool of the system, uninvolved and entirely clean of the blood-stained slush of that project years ago. Her hands were truly untainted by my comrades' blood. I did not have to kill her. Yet, the disappointment gnawed at my reason with savage cruelty. If she knew nothing, then every excuse I had used to justify my presence in this villa was reduced to garbage.
An ordinary official. I told myself, grinding my teeth behind the mask. A fragile flower, devoid of power, devoid of core intelligence, devoid of exploitable value.
This woman named Shalom was utterly useless for my revenge plot. Protecting her would not grant me entry into Paradeisos. The nights I had spent awake, slaughtering monsters, straining my intellect to re-establish security perimeters... none of it was for some grand scheme. It was merely the act of a beast desperately playing shield for a woman who stirred it. How ridiculous. How pathetic. I was an S-rank Sinner carrying a raging fire of vengeance, yet I had reduced myself to a guard dog for a woman who offered me nothing but her smile. The fury directed at myself made me want to turn on my heel, dash out into the gray mist of the Eastside, and shatter something.
…
I remained there, rooted to the rug, my gaze locked onto her.
The room’s atmosphere shifted. Shalom suddenly set her empty teacup onto the silver tray. She sighed-a sound as thin as silk-then slowly extended her arms, stretching languidly. Her movement did not possess the coarseness of an ordinary person; it was as elegant and indolent as a proud cat basking in the sun. The thin silk of her loungewear slid over her skin, tracing slender curves and a softness that felt lethal. Her neckline dipped slightly, revealing sharp collarbones and a patch of ivory flesh. I averted my eyes immediately, staring fixedly at a landscape painting on the wall, feeling the temperature beneath my metallic mask spike. Damn it. Was she entirely unaware of the danger? Or did she think a Sinner like me was an unfeeling block of wood?
Shalom remarked, her voice sounding drowsy, softened by a subconscious, spoiled tone.
- "Conversing with you is quite interesting, Rahu. Perhaps the lingering effects of last night remain. The doctor's sedatives leave me feeling a bit dizzy. I think... I need to lie down and rest."
She braced her hands on the table, attempting to rise. The moment her bare feet touched the carpet, her body swayed, her center of gravity lost like a flower caught in a gale. My instincts reacted faster than thought. In the blink of an eye, I took a long stride across the tea table. My large, tactical-gloved hand shot out, capturing her elbow, while my other arm circled her waist, supporting her fragile frame before she could collapse.
Thud. I heard the sound of my heart hammering against my chest. Shalom’s entire body leaned against me. She was so light, so light that I felt as if I were cradling a cloud. The softness of her body pressed against my cold, rigid armor, creating an absurd contrast. The scent of roses and cold dew washed over my face, completely defeating the last vestiges of defense I had tried to maintain.
- "Careful... You are quite weak. If you fall, the consequences could be unpredictable."
Shalom gasped, one hand clutching my tactical jacket to steady herself. She looked up, the distance between our faces was so close that I could count her long eyelashes.
- "I apologize. It seems I have been a bit reckless with my own body..."
Shalom whispered, a self-conscious smile flickering across her lips. Then she looked directly into my eyes, her voice becoming unusually gentle.
- "Rahu... would you mind escorting me to my bed? It is only a few steps, but I fear I cannot manage them on my own."
A plea. From a Paradeisos official. To a stray dog of the FAC. My reason screamed at me to call the girl Rosa, to release her and maintain military distance. But my hands betrayed me. They did not release her; instead, they tightened slightly around that slender waist.
- "Very well." - I replied, voice blunt and dry. - "Lean on me. Walk slowly."
We began to move. It was a scene so ridiculous and wrong that I dared not look in a mirror. A towering Sinner, radiating killing intent and equipped for war, was carefully guiding a woman in a white silk dress, coddling her as if she were the most fragile piece of porcelain in existence. Each step was deliberate. The silence of the room was now filled only by our breathing. I let her rest her full weight against me, attempting to step softly so that my combat boots would not make a sound loud enough to startle her. The warmth from Shalom’s body permeated the thin fabric, seeping into my leather gloves, winding its way into every pore. This proximity was pure poison. It paralyzed my nervous system, making me forget who I was, forgetting where I stood.
As we passed the mother-of-pearl-inlaid cabinet, Shalom suddenly laughed. A clear, tinkling giggle, brimming with amusement, rang out right beside my ear, causing me to shudder.
- "What are you laughing at?" - I asked, my voice edged with vigilance.
Shalom tilted her head slightly, allowing her wine hair to brush against the plating on my chest. She cast her shimmering violet eyes up at me. Gone was the sorrow or resignation from when she spoke of the funeral flowers, now, her gaze held a mischievous, sharp spark-the teasing glance of an adult lady enjoying the confusion of her counterpart.
- "Nothing. I was just thinking... there have been many security staff and professional bodyguards in Erica Villa. But not a single one of them has ever escorted me to my bedroom while being... this close to me."
I faltered for a beat, my heart suddenly leaping into my throat. Shalom did not let up. She shifted slightly in my arms, narrowing the already nonexistent distance until I could feel her breath against the vents of my metallic muzzle.
- "Especially since you are a battle-hardened female soldier of the FAC..."
Shalom continued to whisper, the corners of her mouth curling into an intensely ambiguous smile. Her eyes bored into my wide-eyed stare, as if wanting to expose every dirty secret and illicit flicker I was trying to hide.
- "You know, Rahu... with the way you have been gripping my waist, anyone looking would think you enjoy... being this intimate with me."
I felt like someone caught red-handed in a theft. I could feel a searing heat rising beneath my cold metallic mask, spreading from my neck, scorching my cheeks, and racing to my ears. I... an S-rank Sinner, a killing machine of the Frontier Force, was blushing at the teasing of a woman.
I hastily averted my gaze, turning to stare fixedly at the wide-open bedroom door ahead. I bit my lip, attempting to quell the panic causing me to lose control.
- "What... what are you talking about?!"
I stammered, my voice sounding sharp yet acting as the most clumsy concealment in the world. I dared not release her, fearing she might actually fall, yet I dared not tighten my hold.
- "Do not... hallucinate. This is standard target protection protocol. No bodyguard leaves a two-meter gap when the target is unsteady!"
Shalom let out a prolonged "Oh…" laced with disbelief, but the smile on her lips widened.
- "Is that so? Target protection protocol? Does the FAC teach you so thoroughly?"
- "Indeed!"
I snapped, searching for any tactical terminology that might salvage my tattered dignity.
- "You are suffering from the side effects of the medication. Your footing is unstable. If I do not stand close, you could trip on the carpet or the corner of a cabinet and sustain a traumatic brain injury. Furthermore..."
I swallowed, attempting to render my voice as cold and professional as when I scolded the head of security outside.
- "Furthermore, the security here is a mess. There are many blind spots in this room. Suppose an assassin were hiding on the ceiling, or a mutated monster broke through the window right now-if I stood far away, I would lose 0.5 seconds of reaction time. In combat, that half-second is enough for you to become a corpse. I maintain this zero-distance interval to ensure... I can use my own body as a shield to take a bullet for you immediately."
I rattled off the explanation, breath fluttering, hoping those blood-soaked justifications would extinguish the damnably ambiguous atmosphere. She listened in silence until I finished, then emitted a soft laugh, light as a feather settling on a lake. She did not expose my clumsy lie. She merely leaned her head against my shoulder slightly more, like a cat discovering the most comfortable sleeping spot. Shalom whispered, her warm breath touching my ear, carrying absolute surrender.
- "I see. A truly thoughtful and... dedicated protection protocol. Since you are so afraid of a surprise assassin, then perhaps... I should cling to you a bit tighter, shouldn't I, Sergeant Rahu?"
I felt her small hand slip into the folds of my tactical jacket at my hip, gripping it. She was clinging to me, like a sole anchor in a world riddled with uncertainty.
I bit my lower lip, closing my eyes for a second. Damn it. She knew. She definitely knew I was lying. She knew I did not view her as a routine mission target, and she knew full well my desire to be near her stemmed from the most foolish, private, and pathetic reasons imaginable. Yet she did not push me away. She went with the flow, using my own rigid tactical excuse to imprison me within this closeness.
I guided Shalom to the edge of the large bed covered in white silk linens, carefully supporting her as she sat. When I moved to withdraw my hand, Shalom’s fingers brushed lightly across the back of my leather-clad hand-a fleeting touch, yet it burned like glowing coal. Shalom looked up at me, her teasing smile fading, yielding to her inherent gentleness and stillness.
- "Thank you for this dedicated escort, Rahu. Now I can sleep with peace of mind."
I recoiled a step as if electrocuted, my face burning.
- "You... you should rest. I will be just outside the door."
Not waiting for her to add another word, I spun sharply, taking long, heavy strides out of the bedroom and slamming the wooden door shut. I leaned my back against the wall, wrapping my arms around my chest, sliding down until I collapsed onto the hallway carpet. My heart pounded, echoing in the quiet space, so loudly that I feared the woman inside could hear it.
I closed my eyes, tapping my head lightly against the marble wall behind me.
I had calculated every angle. I had mapped out thousands of ruthless scenarios to approach Paradeisos. But I had never anticipated that I would drown in the teasing smile of a woman deemed useless to my plan.
- "Damn it..."
I hissed through clenched teeth, a guttural, helpless curse…