“Jimmy, it’s the army!”
A voice urgently called him from outside. Grace casually followed Jimmy as he ran inside the hall.
‘Leon Winston, that b*stard… He will be my useful avenger.’
Jimmy entered a conference room where an old round table stood. He lifted the carpet, retrieved a key, and opened a hidden compartment in the floor, revealing stairs leading downward. He descended and came back up with several rifles and magazines.
“You stay here.”
He still seemed not to fully grasp the situation as he left her behind and dashed out of the hall.
‘James Blanchard Jr., I wish you luck. You will endure the pain I did.’
She watched the departing figure with a cold gaze before glancing down at the secret door he had left unlocked.
º º º
The resistance was quickly suppressed.
Leon stepped out of his car into the center of the square, twisting his mouth into a smirk.
“How boring.”
It was his own doing, after all. The more perfectly planned the operation, the more boring the actual combat felt.
“It was perfect, but too perfect, even.”
He looked around. Soldiers herded prisoners, who were raising their hands, into military trucks like cattle to a barn.
His gaze then shifted from the trucks to a church, from whose broken windows smoke was billowing. The church, expected to be a site of stubborn resistance, had fallen easily to a few grenades thrown through its stained-glass windows.
Leon turned towards the sounds of groans from the injured and the sobbing of a coward.
At one side of the square, in front of a building that looked like the town hall, a makeshift barricade had been poorly erected. Around it, those who had resisted until the end were either kneeling or lying face down on the ground, their heads pressed under gun barrels.
As the sound of boots leisurely hitting the stone grew closer, the people raised their heads. In their eyes, the tall man approaching in a swirling black trench coat, whip in hand, looked like the angel of death.
Leon furrowed his brow as he looked down at the people before him. They all looked like ordinary country folk.
He sighed.
All these years, his father suffered and died miserably because of such trivial people? Still, it was not a time for reflection.
Holding a riding crop in one hand, he pointed at them and asked.
“Where is your commander-in-chief? I would like to see his face.”
A young man who had been kneeling behind the barricades gritted his teeth and slowly stood up.
“James, Blanchard, Junior.”
Leon spread his arms wide, raising his gloved hands in astonishment as if he had met a celebrity, while Blanchard glared back at him with eyes full of contempt and rage.
“I’ve always been curious about what you looked like.”
Leon chuckled upon seeing his face.
It seemed he had brainwashed that woman, too.
“Cambell.”
As he gestured, Cambell led a soldier who was restraining Little Jimmy to bring him forward.
“Ah, I almost forgot to introduce myself. I’m Leon Winston, a captain with the Western Command Domestic Intelligence and the father of the child in your fiancée’s womb. Or should I say, ex-fiancée?”
When he smiled wryly, Blanchard, despite being a prisoner, attempted to spit at him. Before he could, Leon kicked him down to the ground.
“Oh, such an overly warm welcome. I’m pleased to finally meet this way. Aren’t you thrilled?”
Which.
The whip cracked through the air and hit the leather gloves.
“I even sent you an invitation to my mansion, but you didn’t bother to reply. Instead, you sent back a love letter intended for another woman. It was also laced with poison. How rude.”
Blanchard, who was struggling to get up like a dog on his hands, glared murderously at him. Sensing something, Leon used the tip of his whip to lift Blanchard’s chin, laughing lightly at the defiance in his eyes.
“Looks like her handiwork on your face.”
One side of his face was swollen red.
As the man tried to turn his head away while wincing from the whip, Leon grabbed his hair and forced him to make eye contact. Looking down at the man who had been a notorious rebel leader just minutes earlier, now reduced to a pitiful state, he couldn’t help but click his tongue in disdain.
“I wonder why she trusted someone as insignificant as you till the end. How did you brainwash her? Tell me. No, actually, we can get to that later…”
He released the man’s hair with a dismissive toss of his hand. His gaze then swept the area before settling on Jimmy again.
“Tell me. Where is my woman right now?”
It was at that moment, with a twisted smile on his face—
Bang!
—A thunderous noise shattered the air and echoed up to the sky.
º º º
Without realizing it, she found herself tuning into the gunfire that kept getting more distant.
Evil battled evil.
…No, humans battle. It was human greed.
Grace suddenly realized. There was no absolute good or evil in this world. There was only human greed. Therefore, she decided not to take sides anymore. From now on, as her mother’s will suggested, she would live only for her own happiness.
She walked down the dark forest path while holding an oil lantern in one hand and a heavy bag in the other. She then stopped suddenly.
“Hmm…”
She snorted disapprovingly and turned around.
Boom!
An explosion thundered from somewhere deep in the forest, and the ground shook as if something had collapsed beneath it.
“I’m still of use.”
Grace chuckled to herself, turning back around to continue her walk.
Soon, the forest path ended, and a wide river unfolded before her. Walking about thirty meters south along the riverbank, she came upon a small dock. At its end, out of place for a rural village, was a high-end motorboat that was anchored.
She uncovered the four-seater boat and threw her luggage onto the back seat. The bag contained money stolen from the underground safe, along with a handgun, dagger, and ammunition.
Foolish boy.
It was fortunate that the punk hadn’t gotten rid of his habit of leaving keys in his desk drawer. After quickly untying the mooring ropes at the dock, Grace climbed aboard the mahogany boat and sat down at the helm, inserting the key.
The engine roared to life immediately.
Just like Jimmy to keep his boat well-maintained, the fuel gauge needle was at full.
“Alright…”
With her escape preparations complete, she caressed her belly where she could feel the baby’s movement and sighed deeply.
“You’re coming with me for now.”
It was a night with a full moon.
Her gaze, which was initially lost to the endless unseen horizon of the silvery river, gradually turned resolute.
The riverbank, where animals hibernate, and migratory birds had flown south for the winter, was quiet. The sounds of gunfire had ceased, leaving only the faint echoes of carols. While one side waged war, it seemed a Christmas Eve service was in full swing in a village across the river.
Grace hummed along to the familiar hymn lyrics.
“Have mercy upon us, forgive us all our sins…”
Her lips twisted as she recited the holy words.
Sins must be paid for to be forgiven.
…And there was one more person who had to pay.
‘Leon Winston, now it’s your turn to suffer in hell.’
If falling in love was the start of her revenge, then disappearing forever would complete her vendetta against that man.
And there would be no end to this revenge.
Without hesitation, Grace turned the gear. The boat thundered forward, slicing through the moonlit waters. The woman named Grace, a so-called grace from God, delivered hell to all sinners.
And then she vanished. Without a trace.