บททั้งหมดของ Catch-22: To Die Is To Live Hard: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

IN THE PITCH-dark afternoon, the room was filled with the mechanical sound of the heart monitor. It had been two weeks since the clash between General and Blanche had occurred, and yet, the General was still unconscious. Nikolai intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them. Squinting at the computer screen, he scoffed. "What? Why?" his companion asked, curious about Nikolai's reaction. He shrugged and clicked on the mouse. "I wonder if Lucien really lost her sanity," Nikolai muttered while zooming out on the surveillance recording. "Insane or not, you should have secured her room better. She wouldn't have escaped her prison cell if I had known your idea of containing her in the Black Organization's secret chamber would fail." Nikolai groaned, irritated by his companion's comment. "Instead of meddling in my business, why don't you ensure your little puppet won't betray you?" he snapped, implying his companion's sudden decision to

THUNDER roars as the storm rages with no sign of letting up. Lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the room and casting jagged reflections across the rain-streaked windows. The newcomer stood silently by the glass, hands buried deep in her pockets, her presence unsettling. The tension in the air was palpable, and the others remained quiet, wary of the eerie aura she exuded. “It’s been a while since he’s shown any sign of life,” she mused, her voice calm yet cold. She raised a steaming cup of coffee to her lips, glancing at the reflection of the man lying motionless on the queen-sized bed. “Don’t you think it’s time we put an end to this?” She set the cup down on the bedside table, her gaze never leaving the patient. “Honestly, I bet the old man would prefer rest at this point. Revenge is a young person’s game, and he’s far too old for it.” Her fingers brushed the IV tubing that snaked from the patient’s arm, her touch both casual and threat

MOONLIGHT cast long shadows across her face as the weight of the truth bore down on her. She could hear the faint hum of her father's words replaying in her mind, like a haunting echo she couldn't shake. Since the very beginning, the General had plotted the death of General Silas Grey, the man who once held his position with honor. But General Elias Grey --- the man Cessair had idolized the moment they had met --- was not even a true member of the Grey family. The General, Cessair's father, has been adopted by the Grey's, his bloodline was nothing but a pure fabrication. Her heart sank as she thought of the man who had silently supported her throughout, a man who had murdered his predecessor out of jealousy, out of his twisted sense of entitlement. She sighed as she closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to the General's story; a story he had never told her in full detail until now. Elias and Silas Grey, claimed by the Grey clan to be twi

BITING her thumb's fingernail and bouncing her knee nervously, Blanche peered through the window, trying to make sense of their location. How long had it been since she last visited this place? She could barely remember. After the incident, she'd fled, starting a new life in a different country. She rubbed her hands over her face, feeling uneasy despite having her companions beside her. Alexis glanced back at her and sighed. “How long are you going to act like that?” Alexis asked, her tone a mix of impatience and concern. The car had been parked outside the old apartment for a while now, and Blanche seemed completely unaware. Blanche messed up her hair, frustrated. “Why are you even with me?” Raising an eyebrow, Alexis scoffed. “Because the director wanted me here.” Blanche rolled her eyes and leaned back against the leather seat. “Why do I have to stay here with you guys?” “Why not?” Aracelli shrugged from the fr

IT ALREADY started. There’s no turning back now, no room to quit what they’d set in motion. For years, the case lingered in limbo, but this year—this was different. This year, they made progress like never before. Everything was finally aligning, piece by piece, right in front of them. Had any of this event fallen into place, there would’ve been no foundation for the intricate plans they were executing now. Everything—every risk, every loss—had brought them to this pivotal moment. Yama sighed deeply before entering the room where Aerith lay confined. She was safe, but still unconscious. The accident had left her with severe injuries—far worse than Blanche’s. Unlike Blanche, there was no guarantee that Aerith would ever wake up, let alone walk again. Yama gently took Aerith’s hand, massaging it with care, as she did whenever she had free time. Only she and Blanche knew of this place; they needed to keep Aerith secure. "You need to wake up," Yama whispered softly