Nor Can Death Part Us from Love
The red text radiated urgency, leaving me momentarily bewildered.
This was a Protection mission?
Just like the rumors—Sin Hunters appearing like heroes right when victims needed them, shielding them from harm.
I said nothing.
I didn't want to get involved in all this. The pay was generous, I admitted, but I was a mother.
Above all else, my child had to come first.
Valerian urged me: "Someone needs help!"
I said, "Even if I don't go, someone else will. The app turned on location services, right? Dylan Garrett was killed by that Sin Hunter called Hemlock. If he killed Dylan Garrett, that means Hemlock is nearby. The strongest Sin Hunter is already here—why should I go?"
"Hemlock was injured on his last mission! He came to finish this one despite his injuries, which is why he could only complete half of it before having me take over!"
"The victim is a stranger to me. Why should I risk my life for her? Besides, if even the strongest Sin Hunter can get injured, what chance do I have?"
I turned to leave, but Valerian said quietly: "Hemlock was injured... because of your husband!"
My heart seized. I turned back to look at him.
"Sin Hunters know everything. How could we not know that a firefighter was going to be killed by scum like that..." Valerian said. "When the platform issued the mission to save your husband, Hemlock took it."
I murmured, "But my husband died."
"Yes, Hemlock failed. He'd completed every mission flawlessly before—this was the only one he failed, and he came back wounded. Nobody knows exactly what happened that day. We only know that the strongest Sin Hunter was injured and failed... I'm sorry. I didn't intend to tell you this."
My mind filled with the image of my husband charging into a blazing building with Major, fighting alone.
He'd succeeded in dozens, maybe hundreds of missions. Yet that day, he sacrificed himself in the flames.
And the strongest Sin Hunter, who'd completed countless missions, failed that day too.
Why...
Why did it all happen at the same time?
I bit my lip, suddenly fighting tears: "If you didn't intend to tell me, why did you? How is this any different from driving a knife into my heart?"
Valerian whispered an apology. After a moment's hesitation, he removed his mask.
He had a clean, pale face. I was surprised he'd show his real identity.
I thought Sin Hunters were absolutely forbidden from revealing their faces.
He handed me the mask and said earnestly: "Borrow this. If you change your mind, I hope it comes in handy. Please think about it—you have this kind of strength. You can save a family from grief. Remember, while you're on a mission, keep checking your phone. The task might update with crucial information at any time!"
He told me there was an unlocked car at the intersection. Using it wouldn't expose my identity.
He told me there were fresh clothes in the car, to protect my privacy.
He begged me to save a life.
I didn't argue with him. I didn't think either of us could persuade the other. I had my own family to protect.
To avoid a prolonged debate, I simply took the mask and left. When I reached the end of the alley and glanced back, Valerian was still standing there, watching me with disappointment.
I sighed, got into my own car. The mission notification appeared again on my phone.
"Protection mission time-limited. Please proceed to Left Bank Café immediately!"
I started the engine, but drove toward home, not toward the café.
My baby was waiting for me to pick him up tomorrow...
The injuries from the fight still throbbed.
I had no spare energy to protect anyone. My mind was full of what Valerian had said.
Why... why had Hemlock failed specifically on the mission to save my husband? What really happened that day?
The Emperor.
Such a weighty title, yet he couldn't save my husband.
I couldn't help wondering—if time rewound, would Ethan Cole still rush into that inferno?
He would... He was that kind of fool. He couldn't stand seeing people suffer.
Remembering his face, I—without meaning to—opened the mission details.
Just looking, I told myself. Opening it didn't mean accepting.
"Protection mission details: Victim Maya Duke will meet her father, Harlan Duke, at Left Bank Café at 10:00 PM. Then, beginning at 10:30 PM, she will be drugged unconscious by Harlan Duke in his car in the underground parking garage..."
A father harming his own daughter?
An ordinary person would find it incomprehensible. I fell silent.
I drove on, my thoughts spiraling.
That freezing winter night.
Mountain thorns cutting me to ribbons. Clutching a stolen phone, sobbing with everything I had.
"I need to report to the police—I was sold into the mountains, I escaped... It's so dark here, I don't know where I am..."
"This is the emergency hotline. Please stay calm—what exactly happened?"
"My parents... sold me to an old man... Help! I hear something making noise, I'm so scared, I don't know what kind of animal might come out!"
"We'll arrange for someone to contact you shortly. Please keep your phone on!"
That night, my crying grew louder and louder.
My breathing shorter and shorter.
The dispatcher.
The police.
The firefighters.
One after another, they tried to reach me, but I couldn't describe my location, and that was so despairing.
"There's a big rock here—a really big rock..."
"I can see the moon... it's on my left... I don't know north from south..."
"Please, I really don't know where I am. My phone is almost dead. It's so dark—I can't even explain where I am!"
In the darkness, I didn't dare cry too loudly, afraid of attracting wild animals.
But I couldn't hold it in—hysterical yet hushed, that contradictory scratchiness in my voice.
I remember the people on the phone changing, one after another, until my husband called me.
He told me... if I wanted to cry, then cry. Don't hold it in.
He said it didn't matter if I couldn't describe my location.
It didn't matter if I couldn't tell north from south.
It didn't matter that it was too dark to see.
"Sis, cry all you want. I'm making you a promise—no matter how vast these mountains are, the moment you finish crying, that's when I'll find you."
He kept his promise. He and Major found me.
I remember he was the first person to ever pick me up like a princess. I lay weak in his arms, while he was the one shivering with cold, wet, covered in scratches from brambles.
When I was carried onto the ambulance, he collapsed too, and we were loaded on together.
Damn it!
I yanked the steering wheel hard, turned the car back toward the alley, switched to Valerian's car, and drove toward Left Bank Café. I picked up my phone and tapped "Accept Mission"!
I didn't want to risk it. I wanted to protect my family.
But I refused to tarnish his name!
The mission interface began pushing notifications.
"Proceed to Left Bank Café via Riverside Drive—the street cameras there are under maintenance and won't capture specific details."
"Harlan Duke and his daughter will sit at Table Five. Please identify accordingly."
"This is a premeditated killing. When leaving the café, Harlan Duke will lead his daughter past the monitored exits and instead take the unmonitored pedestrian exit to parking space G105 in the far corner of the garage!"
Valerian's words had been verified.
Sin Hunters could know everything!
I checked the time—twenty minutes until the father and daughter were scheduled to meet.
I'm just going to observe... I kept telling myself I was only there to verify whether the app's predictions came true. I wasn't actually risking anything.
I arrived at Left Bank Café as instructed, parked, and looked at the mask on the passenger seat.
I picked it up.
Inside the mask, "Valerian" was inscribed, with a smaller line beneath:
"Walking the line between darkness and danger, I am willing to become sin so that the world may be free of sin—Sin Hunter."
I sighed, set the mask down, and found the spare clothes in the trunk. Various sizes lined the bag—simple black tops and pants, from S to XXL.
I entered the café and found Table Five. Table Three was in the corner nearby, with a curtain divider.
I sat down and ordered lemon water. The server said they were closing in an hour. I said that was fine, and waited.
A few minutes later, a middle-aged man sat down at Table Five. He ordered two drinks and slipped something into one of them.
Then he looked around nervously until a teenage girl arrived.
She was plain-looking, wearing outdated clothes with a few grease stains that wouldn't wash out.
The man stood: "Momo, Dad's right here!"
So that really was her name.
Maya Duke sat down and looked at her father without expression.
Harlan Duke was nervous: "Momo, Dad asked you here because I want to talk about something we already agreed on... Why did you suddenly change your mind?"
She said: "Because Mom left."
"I know, but... that doesn't change the three hundred thousand Dad is offering you!"
"Mom is gone from this world. What use is three hundred thousand to me?"
Harlan Duke pleaded: "Sweetheart, your little brother's life depends on you. We already agreed—you need to keep your promises!"
Maya Duke looked at her father and gave a cold laugh: "Harlan Duke—you have no right to talk about promises."
"My mom left the old village with you, worked herself raw helping you build your paint business. Her hands were calloused before she was thirty. When she came to my parent-teacher conferences, people thought she was my grandmother. Did she ever complain once?"
"You promised her a good life. And when you finally made money, her biggest dream was just to open a proper shop—upgrade the products so she wouldn't have to breathe those toxic paint fumes anymore. But what did you do to her?"
"You made it big. You had money. You became a little tycoon in the city. You decided my mom was too short, too fat. You decided her arms were thicker than yours from all the work she did. You decided she'd aged too fast from earning a living. And you went and found yourself a pretty city woman—she really was gorgeous, wasn't she? Standing next to my mom, she made her look like dirt."
"You bullied my mom because she had no education and didn't know her rights. You drained the family accounts and moved in with that woman. You were so clever—you cheated on my mom, but pinned the blame on her, claiming she only gave you a daughter and ruined your reputation in the village. And that woman was so impressive—she gave you a son."
Harlan Duke cut in: "Your mother and I just had relationship problems. I've always been thinking about you, and I love you—"
"Thinking about me? You took your son back to the village to be spoiled by his grandparents—were you thinking of me then? You drained all the money. Mom worked those paint jobs every day to feed me. I used to kneel by the door doing my homework—were you thinking of me then? Your precious kid dressed up nice, riding in your BMW X5. Big dad in a BMW, little boy riding ponies at the country club, being called 'little young master' by the staff. And you call that thinking about me?"
"You never came looking for me. My high school tuition was paid by my mom working overtime. She came to you to borrow money—you just said you didn't have any. You motherfucker, she was asking to BORROW money! Now your son needs a kidney, suddenly you remember me? The first time in over a decade you take me out, I thought my dad was coming home. I cried all night under the covers, telling myself I had a father too. But you took me to the hospital for a kidney match test. That's what you call loving me?"
Maya Duke couldn't contain her emotions, tears streaming down her face: "I hate this so much! I hate that I was born wrong. My mom spent her whole life breathing toxic paint fumes. When she got leukemia from it, her own daughter's bone marrow wasn't even a match. But your pampered brat gets kidney disease, and suddenly MY kidney is compatible! God, you made everything about me wrong!"
"I only wanted that three hundred thousand to pay for Mom's treatment! I didn't want your dirty money for anything else—I'm not giving that bastard my kidney! Now Mom's condition has worsened and she's gone, what do I need your filthy money for? You make me sick. You have the nerve to say you love me, you think about me?"
I gripped my glass so hard my hand trembled.
Memories flashed through my mind.
I remembered wearing thin clothes, being beaten with a cheap leather belt by my parents, crying and apologizing.
"He hit me first... I'm sorry, I won't fight back again."
I remembered every meal—Mom always let my brother eat first. Only when he was stuffed could I sit down and scrape the leftovers.
She'd always tell him...
"Have this, and this... don't worry about your sister, she's not hungry. Eat up, sweetie!"
That night. So, so cold.
I hadn't done anything wrong, but Mom dragged me out of bed.
She was crying, slapping me across the face over and over until my face bled.
She clutched my brother's portrait, screaming at me: "Why didn't you die instead! You killed your brother—you're a murderer!"
Mom...
I'd been such a good girl.
Why did you leave so many scars on me... why didn't it hurt you when you hit me...
If a person has no love, why should they exist? If being born means suffering, why was I brought into this world?
I bit my lip, struggling to breathe.
Harlan Duke said earnestly to Maya Duke: "I was wrong about some things in the past. If you feel that way, I won't push you. Come on—I'll drive you home one last time. I won't bother you again."
Maya Duke's tears kept falling, but she refused to sob openly. She downed her drink in one go, wiped her face, and stood up.
She left with Harlan Duke.
Silly girl.
She had no idea what was coming.
I paid and went back to the car.
I picked up the mask again.
"Walking the line between darkness and danger, I am willing to become sin so that the world may be free of sin—Sin Hunter."
At last, I put the mask on.
The underground parking garage was empty late at night. The corner spot was even quieter. Space G105 was beside an empty slot.
I parked in G106 and cracked my window open just enough to hear outside.
Harlan Duke was supporting Maya Duke, who could barely walk, heading toward the car.
Maya Duke clearly sensed something was wrong. She tried to turn back several times, but she was too weak and he kept pulling her along.
He made a phone call: "It's done. Nobody in the country will do it, so I'll go abroad. Damn it, tell them money's no object! What parent wouldn't do anything to save their child—I'll pay whatever it takes!"
Maya Duke was crying, completely drained of resistance.
As he shoved her toward the car door, while he opened the back seat, I heard her whisper: "Mom... why couldn't I be a match for you?"
He loaded her into the car, then headed for the driver's seat. I stepped out.
He saw me in my mask and stared. I said casually: "Hey buddy, is that your girlfriend? She seems pretty drunk."
Harlan Duke looked confused, then said: "None of your business, weirdo."
He opened the door and put one leg inside.
Just as he was about to sit down, I grabbed the door and slammed it shut!
CRUNCH!
The heavy thud of the door and Harlan Duke's piercing scream hit at the same time!
I lifted my foot and kicked the door repeatedly!
SLAM!
SLAM!
SLAM!
The door battered Harlan Duke's body over and over. He collapsed, clutching his leg, writhing and screaming.
I walked in front of him, looked down, and stomped hard on his nose!
As he howled in pain, I stepped on him to open the door and glanced at Maya Duke in the back seat.
She was still crying, staring at me in shock.
"Let me ask you—do you know where people go when they die?"
She didn't have the strength to answer.
I said...
"She'll become a star in the sky, watching over you as you sleep..."
"She'll become a cool breeze, brushing across your face..."
"She'll become a sudden rain, falling gently on your skin..."
Maya Duke tried to sit up, as if wanting to respond, but couldn't manage it. She burst into tears.
I bit my lip and murmured: "Death can't separate you from love. You'll feel her with you. If she weren't protecting you from above, how could I be here right now?"
Harlan Duke grabbed my leg from the ground and yanked hard.
I let him pull me away rather than resist.
As he coughed and tried to rise, I grabbed him by the hair and hauled him up.
The injuries from my fight with Warren Briggs still throbbed.
But I clenched my fist and said with a cold smile: "Good, you can stand. I wasn't done with you."
I threw a punch, but just as it was about to connect, he roared: "Fuck you!"
At the same time, he pulled a knife from his pocket and lunged at me!
My heart nearly stopped.
A lethal weapon?
Damn it—the mission briefing didn't say anything about this!