Chapter 68

For some reason, Peter extended his hand like a gentleman. As Grace was about to take it, her vision, which had been blurry from rubbing her eyes, suddenly cleared, and she froze.

A hand in a black leather glove, and beyond it, a rain-soaked cap and a black trench coat.

The man who extended his hand to Grace was not Peter.

“...Ah!”

The man grabbed Grace's wrist as she recoiled in shock. The grip was so tight it felt like her bones would break, and as she groaned, a cold, wet lip touched her ear, and a chilling whisper pierced her.

“Honey, did you enjoy your last outing before you die?”

A shiver ran down her spine.

Grace turned her head to avoid the sharp, icicle-like eyes. Beyond Winston's shoulder, she saw the tightly closed iron gate of the annex.

The moment she caught sight of Peter standing at the end of the line of soldiers, his hands clasped obediently, tears, thicker than raindrops, blurred her vision.

“Wh-what, how...”

The person she had trusted without a doubt had betrayed her to the enemy.

Even in this moment of shock, she clearly understood.

Fred had revealed Peter's true identity.

Peter had become Winston's double agent to survive, and Grace had been completely unaware.

The call was not to Nancy but to Winston. While pretending to argue with Nancy, he had deceived her into thinking he was taking her to Nancy.

As Grace trembled with betrayal and sobbed, Winston approached Peter. He lightly patted Peter's shoulder as if congratulating him, then twisted his lips into a sneer.

“Didn’t know the post office delivered women too?”

The hand in the black leather glove gripped Peter's shoulder tightly.

“Laugh. It’s a joke.”

From Peter to the soldiers, all the men, who had turned pale, forced a laugh. Winston, the only one not laughing, dragged Grace out of the carriage and brought her to Peter.

“Miss Ridley, why didn’t you tell me you knew this diligent delivery man? Oh, I didn’t tell you I knew him either, so are we even?”

Facing Peter, who avoided her gaze, made her furious. Grace pushed Winston away and lunged at Peter.

“Dirty traitor! How could you do this to your ally! I’ll kill you! Fall into hell!”

“Grace! Stop it!”

Peter, lacking the strength to resist, acted shamelessly. He waved his hand and head as if swatting a fly, looking annoyed, and muttered.

“You should have stayed locked up...”

At that moment, Grace clenched her fist so tightly it hurt and swung it at Peter’s face.

Thud.

Her fist hit Peter’s jaw directly. As his head snapped to the side, his eyes changed.

“What the—”

Peter’s palm flew toward Grace’s cheek. Just before it hit, the hand in the black leather glove grabbed Peter’s wrist.

Grace, trying to dodge, stumbled and fell onto the rain-soaked gravel, her legs giving out.

“Sob...”

Before she could feel the pain from falling, she was overwhelmed by sorrowful sobs...

Bang.

A gunshot rang out.

Grace, eyes wide open, let out a short scream in shock.

Peter, covered in blood, lay on the gravel path, just a step away, gasping his last breath. Smoke rose from the barrel of the pistol in Winston’s hand.

“Dirty rat, how dare you...”

Winston, who had been glaring at the dying Peter, suddenly turned to Grace.

Thud.

His black shoes stepped on the blood-soaked gravel as he approached her. The pistol was still in his hand.

Is he going to kill me too?

“A, ah...”

She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. As she tried to flee, her trembling hand touching the sharp gravel, she was caught. The cold texture of the leather glove around her neck made her shiver.

“I sent that guy to hell, just as you said.”

He bent down toward Grace. In front of those eyes, colder than anything in the world, everything froze, and she couldn’t even cry.

“Do you want to go with him?”

As she shook her head, unable to control her body, he released her and ordered.

“Then beg.”

The offer of a chance to avoid death made Grace even more desperate. She looked up at him with confused eyes, and Winston gritted his teeth.

“Yeah, you’re the easiest in the world for me.”

Winston raised the pistol, which had been pointing at the ground. As the cold barrel pressed against her forehead, Grace let out a desperate, anguished scream.

“You said it yourself, begging doesn’t always work! You’ve never listened to me, no matter how much I beg! Just kill me!”

As she vented her frustration, a wild look began to flash in her eyes.

“Yeah, kill me! You’ve always wanted to kill me with your own hands! Do it! Pull the trigger! Is my attitude the problem? Kind Captain, please kill me!”

A pale hand grabbed the pistol and pulled it down. The moment the hard metal touched her lips, Grace willingly opened her mouth. As she glared at Winston with a fierce expression, the twisted smile on his face slowly faded.

Grace used her last strength to grip the barrel and Winston’s hand tightly with both hands.

She had bet her life in a gamble with the devil. Her turn was over. Now she could only wait for the other player’s move.

She closed her eyes. In the silence, only the sound of rain was heard, and the rainwater trickling down the barrel fell onto her tongue.

The rainwater tasted of gunpowder and metal. It was no different from the taste of blood.

It was the taste of death. And the taste of freedom.

Perhaps death was not a constraint but freedom. Especially for someone for whom the only way to regain freedom was through death.

Even losing this gamble wouldn’t be so bad, she told herself. The hard metal repeatedly bumped against her teeth.

Was it her who was trembling, or the barrel?

It was a pointless question. The barrel was pulled out of her mouth.

“You’re using another arrogant trick.”

The pistol was holstered.

“You’ll have to pay the price.”

Leon turned his back on the exhausted woman.

A pathetic bastard, the easiest man in the world to that woman.

He wanted to put a bullet in his own head.

* * *

Campbell glanced at his superior. The thin curtain outside the window was slowly turning with the dawn.

“Will that do?”

Caught off guard by the sudden laughter, he turned his gaze back to his superior at the desk. What was so funny? Just as he was about to ask, the captain waved his hand holding a cigar.

“Continue the report.”

“Yes, the commotion this morning involved the elimination of an intruder who attempted to steal military secrets in the annex. We plan to report this to headquarters today.”

He had been called to work in the middle of the night due to an emergency and was greeted by a body sprawled in the annex courtyard.

He was momentarily speechless when he realized it was the rebel the captain had personally recruited as a double agent not long ago.

But the fact that the woman who had caused the commotion had escaped unharmed, while the one who had obeyed the order was dead, was not surprising.

“Escape route?”

“The prisoner used tools to dig through the wall between the bathroom and the storage room...”

“Campbell, I know that.”

He was asking if the escape route after that had been identified. Campbell was at a loss. The area outside the storage room was a dead end, blocked by iron bars and a corridor. How had the woman escaped without passing through the iron bars?

“The route from the storage room to the back wall is still unclear, but we are investigating and will report as soon as we have more information.”

“Do that.”

“Captain.”

The captain, who had put the cigar in his mouth, raised an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t it be best to ask the escapee herself?”

“That’s true.”

If she could speak. Leon inhaled the cigar smoke deeply and twisted his lips.

“Who was responsible?”

“The two guards on duty at the time did not notice any suspicious movements or sounds.”

“The woman from the storage room to the back wall...”

The captain snapped his fingers.

“Did she teleport?”

“The private responsible for the torture room door was absent from his post between three and four, leaving the corridor in front of the door unattended.”

“Campbell, what was your first thought when you heard that?”

The captain smiled, his eyes crinkling, and asked. Campbell, who had served close to Captain Winston for years, knew well. This was a moment to lower his head.

“Sorry, Captain. The private will be reprimanded for leaving his post, and all assigned personnel will be thoroughly trained to prevent such incidents in the future.”

“That’s a given.”

The captain, tapping the ash from his cigar, urged him to continue the report.

“So, the renovation of the torture room I ordered?”

“I will confirm the schedule with the relevant company as soon as they open. The wall repairs, removal of the storage room door, and the addition of locks and bolts are expected to be completed by this morning.”

“Thoroughly prevent any recurrence.”

“Understood.”

“Dismissed.”

As Campbell left, Leon issued an order in the empty office.