White Li walked toward Martha step by step.
With each step, her heartbeat quickened.
The short knife in her hand felt incredibly heavy, the cold metal as if draining all her body heat.
She stared at Martha’s face—that dark purple, expressionless face.
‘She prayed silently, prayed that some fear would flicker across that face, or a plea for mercy, or at least a hint of hesitation.’
‘Then she could give herself an excuse—”She’s scared, she’s guilty, she deserves it.”‘
Yet there was nothing.
The other party was like a statue, the nun’s robe completely still.
White Li’s gaze remained fixed on Martha’s face, but Martha exuded a calmness that came from the very bones, like a tree waiting to be felled—no struggle, no plea, not even willing to shed a single leaf.
White Li stopped in front of Martha.
Only a few steps separated them; she could even hear Martha’s breathing and see the silver cross on her chest.
White Li raised the knife, the tip pointing at Martha’s chest.
Her hand was trembling, her entire arm shaking, the blade tracing irregular circles in the air.
“Go ahead.”
Martha finally spoke, as calm as a prayer.
“Whether I die at Madam’s hands or at yours makes no difference to me.”
White Li bit her lip until it turned white, a flood of images flashing through her mind.
As her instructor when she first joined The Organization, Martha had made her suffer plenty.
On the training ground, the whip lashed her back with searing pain.
When she failed evaluations, she was forced to kneel on the cold floor.
Another time, she tried to escape, but Martha pulled her out of the shadows and carried her back like a chick.
She had also turned Xiao Yu into a monster—that cat girl handing out flyers at the Cat Cafe, turned into a beast that only roared and destroyed after Martha gave her a shot.
And Huang Mao, that thug who robbed her in the alley.
Perhaps he was also given something by Martha, ending up in his current ghostly state.
This person had been unkind to her; she hated her, even feared her a little.
But…
‘I can’t do it. I’ve never killed anyone, and I don’t want to.’
White Li lowered her hand, relaxed her fingers, and the short knife fell to the ground with a crisp clatter.
“Branch only has four people now. Huang Mao is severely injured, and we don’t even know if he can be healed,” White Li looked up at Madam.
“If we kill her, we’ll only have three left.”
She swallowed and added,
“Besides, Martha’s abilities are really useful—teleportation, reconnaissance, infiltration, we can’t do without her. She also saved my life once. Let’s spare her this time, and call it… even.”
“But don’t let it happen again,” White Li turned to face Martha.
“Everyone makes mistakes. If we kill anyone who gets caught by The Organization, who would trust you in the future? Who would be willing to turn their back to you?”
Martha’s eyes finally focused on White Li’s face, but still showed no readable emotion.
White Li averted her gaze and lowered her head.
Her ears drooped, and she looked like a kitten that had done something wrong.
“That’s all I have to say.”
Her voice faded.
“Sorry, I can’t do it.”
She was fully aware of the consequences of defying Madam’s orders. Madam might seem lazy and easygoing, but she despised anyone who went against her will.
White Li waited for Madam’s anger, waited for punishment.
The hall was extremely quiet.
The fire in the fireplace crackled; she could even hear her own heartbeat, so fast it felt like it would leap out of her throat.
“Ha… hahaha—”
Madam laughed, covering her mouth, her shoulders trembling lightly. Behind the mask, her eyes curved into crescent moons.
“Good,” Madam’s voice carried a smile. “Well said. You may leave.”
“Huh?”
White Li looked up, eyes wide, thinking she had misheard.
“I said—you may leave.”
Madam repeated, gesturing with her hand.
“Oh no, wait. Come here first.”
Hearing this, White Li stepped forward and crouched in front of the throne.
Madam reached out and gently pressed her fingers against White Li’s neck.
Click.
With a soft sound, the collar fell off her neck.
Madam picked up the collar with two fingers, as if holding a dead bug, glanced at it with disgust, and tossed it aside.
“Go take a shower and change your clothes.”
Madam covered her nose and waved a hand with a frown.
“You smell awful. It’s giving me a headache.”
White Li lifted her arm and sniffed her sleeve. It really didn’t smell good.
“Also,” Madam looked her up and down. “I’ve never seen you wear a skirt. Don’t you like them?”
White Li was taken aback, not expecting Madam to ask that.
“I don’t like wearing them… inconvenient.” She stammered. “When fighting, it’s easy to… flash.”
Madam glanced at her, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.
“Suit yourself. But…”
She paused.
“It might be nice to try wearing one. With your looks, it’s a shame not to wear skirts.”
“Yes… Madam.”
She nodded, quickly changing the subject.
“Then… I’ll head back now.”
“Go ahead.”
Madam leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs again.
“Don’t forget the mission.”
“Understood!”
White Li stood up, took two steps back, turned, and walked toward the door.
She walked quickly, her tail swishing behind her, vanishing at the end of the hall in the blink of an eye.
Only Madam and Martha remained in the hall.
Madam sat on the stone throne, looking down at the black short knife on the floor.
After a moment of silence, she spoke.
“Well? Do we still need the test?”
Martha bowed slightly to Madam.
“Not anymore, Madam.”
“What do you think?”
Madam shifted her gaze from the knife to Martha.
“Is she really unable to do it, or just afraid?”
“I don’t know…”
Madam let out a laugh, propping her cheek on one hand, her purple eyes gazing at the fire in the fireplace.
“Interesting.”
Back on the ground, the night wind hit her face, making White Li shiver.
She stood by the street and looked up.
Above her was a giant electronic display, scrolling through the news.
“Hours ago, a serious safety incident occurred at the Shelter. Multiple dangerous monsters have escaped. Currently, the Shelter has activated emergency protocols, and the Bureau of Anomalies is fully engaged in pursuing the escaped monsters. Citizens are advised to stay safe. If you spot any suspicious individuals, please call the Bureau of Anomalies hotline immediately…”
Before the voice finished, two photographs flashed on the screen.
One was of the Yellow-Haired Monster, the other was of herself.
Below the photos, in large red letters, it said:
‘Escaped Dangerous Freak—Reward for Information.’
White Li stared at her own photo for a moment, then pulled the wristband from her tail and put it on.
The familiar tightening sensation passed over her body. She glanced at herself in the side mirror of a parked car.
Just an ordinary high school student—no one would look twice even if she walked down the street.
“I need to get a good night’s sleep.”
She yawned and muttered quietly.
“I still have school tomorrow.”
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