The night highway stretched endlessly beneath the dim glow of streetlights.
Inside the moving minivan, Lucien Blackwood sat quietly in the passenger seat, one arm resting against the window while dry evening wind brushed lightly across his face.
Scarlett drove carefully beside him.
Compared to before, the atmosphere inside the car had become strangely peaceful.
For the first time since this nightmare began, the suffocating pressure surrounding them seemed to have weakened.
Lucien's deductions made sense.
Death was not omnipotent.
It was not some invincible god deciding fate on a whim.
It consumed power.
It followed rituals.
And most importantly—
it could weaken.
Scarlett still found the entire explanation difficult to fully understand, but she trusted Lucien far more than she trusted her own judgment now.
Belief.
Souls.
Cause and effect.
Coincidences becoming rituals.
An unconscious evil spirit gradually shaped by human fear and worship.
The idea sounded insane.
But after everything she had experienced, insanity no longer felt impossible.
Lucien's calm voice continued inside the quiet car.
"Faith is a strange thing."
Scarlett glanced toward him briefly.
"Sometimes it does nothing."
"And sometimes it gives authority to things that should never possess it."
The city lights reflected faintly across Lucien's dark eyes.
"The reason that entity became what people call the Grim Reaper is because of believers like the mortician."
"They witnessed death repeatedly occurring through impossible coincidences and began worshipping it."
"They gave meaning to something that originally had none."
Scarlett slowed slightly, listening carefully.
Lucien continued in the same calm tone.
"They believed Death existed."
"They feared it."
"They obeyed it."
"And eventually, that fear became power."
"The rituals of sequential killing, the omens, the warnings before death… those weren't natural laws."
"They were characteristics shaped by countless human interpretations."
Scarlett frowned slightly.
"So people… created it?"
"Not entirely."
Lucien shook his head faintly.
"The entity already existed."
"But human belief gave it identity."
"And identity gave it authority."
Scarlett felt chills run down her spine.
Lucien's explanation made the thing hunting them feel even more disturbing.
A monster born from fear.
Strengthened through death.
Fed through souls.
Lucien stretched slightly in his seat.
"But in the end, a fake remains a fake."
"It still relies on killing to sustain itself."
"Without souls to harvest, it will eventually weaken."
Scarlett finally exhaled softly.
"So… it's almost gone?"
"Probably."
Lucien's tone remained casual.
"The remaining followers already sacrificed themselves."
"The mortician's soul was likely its last significant source of power."
"And most of that was wasted trying to kill me inside the police station."
Scarlett almost laughed despite herself.
Only Lucien could speak about being relentlessly hunted by Death with this level of indifference.
Then he added:
"I haven't sensed danger for a while now."
"That alone proves its condition is deteriorating."
Scarlett finally relaxed slightly.
The terrifying pressure gripping her chest for days seemed to loosen.
Maybe this was finally ending.
Maybe they had actually survived.
Lucien closed his eyes slowly.
"I'm tired."
Scarlett blinked.
That simple sentence suddenly reminded her of everything he had done over the past two days.
The constant vigilance.
The nonstop attacks.
The shopping mall incident.
The police station.
The investigation.
The countless times he had protected her.
Yet not once had she considered how exhausted he must be.
"Take me back to the antique shop," Lucien said quietly.
"Your father should've already given you the address."
"I'll sleep for a while."
Before Scarlett could answer, Lucien tilted his head slightly against the seat.
A few moments later, his breathing steadied.
He had actually fallen asleep.
Scarlett stared at him in surprise.
Then guilt slowly appeared in her eyes.
From beginning to end, she had only focused on her own fear.
Meanwhile Lucien had carried all the pressure alone.
She unconsciously eased off the accelerator, making the drive smoother and quieter.
At least let him rest properly.
The city lights flowed gently outside the windows.
For several peaceful minutes, nothing happened.
Then—
RING.
The sudden sound of her phone shattered the silence.
Scarlett immediately grabbed it with one hand while keeping the other on the steering wheel.
Her brows tightened slightly.
"Hello?"
The caller on the other side sounded almost hysterical.
"Oh thank God… thank God…"
Scarlett's expression changed instantly.
"…Dad?"
The man on the other end was practically sobbing.
"You're alive… Scarlett… thank God you're alive…"
Fear slowly crept back into Scarlett's chest.
Her father had regained composure long ago after learning Lucien was protecting her.
For him to sound like this—
something terrible had happened.
"What happened?" she asked quickly.
Scarlett carefully pulled the minivan to the roadside and parked beneath a flickering streetlamp.
She instinctively glanced toward Lucien.
He remained asleep.
Only then did she continue speaking softly.
"Dad, calm down."
"What happened?"
Her father tried to steady his breathing.
Then, in a trembling voice, he explained.
A catastrophic bridge collapse had just occurred in San Francisco.
An enormous section of the bridge suddenly gave way during rush traffic.
Hundreds of vehicles plunged into the water below.
Countless people died instantly.
Scarlett's heartbeat suddenly accelerated.
Then came the sentence that made her blood run cold.
"All the surviving passengers…"
"They were on that bridge."
Scarlett froze completely.
"…What?"
"Every one of them," her father whispered shakily.
"I checked… all of them…"
"For various reasons, they all happened to cross that bridge tonight…"
"And now they're dead."
Scarlett's fingers slowly tightened around the phone.
Her breathing became uneven.
No.
No, that wasn't possible.
Lucien had already proven Death could weaken.
He had already disrupted the sequence.
So why—
Then realization struck her.
Death hadn't continued hunting them one by one.
It had gathered them together.
And killed them all at once.
The rules were gone.
Everything Lucien deduced—
was wrong.
Or perhaps…
Death had simply become desperate enough to abandon its previous methods entirely.
Her father continued speaking emotionally.
"When I saw the news, I thought…"
"I thought maybe you were there too…"
"But you're alive…"
Scarlett barely heard the rest.
Cold fear swallowed her completely.
Now she was the only surviving passenger left.
The only one.
A freezing wind suddenly swept through the inside of the car.
Scarlett's entire body trembled violently.
Her eyes widened.
Black mist drifted slowly across the windshield.
Then—
The radio turned on by itself.
Static crackled through the speakers.
And the familiar song began playing once again.
John Denver.
Cold wind.
Black mist.
Scarlett's face turned deathly pale.
"No…"
It was back.
Death had come back.
Not weakened.
Not dying.
Still hunting her.
Still watching.
Still waiting.
"Lucien!"
Scarlett immediately grabbed his shoulder desperately.
"Lucien wake up!"
"Wake up!!"
But Lucien showed no response.
His breathing remained calm.
Peaceful.
Almost unnaturally peaceful.
Panic exploded inside Scarlett's chest.
No no no no—
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She shook him harder.
"Lucien!!"
Still nothing.
Her heart nearly stopped.
Then instinct took over.
She immediately started the engine again.
They couldn't stay here.
Open space.
They needed open space.
No buildings.
No traffic.
No sharp objects.
She slammed the accelerator—
BANG!!
A violent impact exploded from behind.
Scarlett screamed as the entire vehicle lurched forward.
At the same instant, burning heat erupted from inside her coat.
One protective talisman shattered.
But before she could react—
BANG!!
Another collision slammed into the vehicle from the side.
The airbags exploded outward violently.
Her head snapped backward painfully.
Sharp ringing filled her ears.
The second talisman burned apart.
Scarlett's vision blurred.
Glass shattered everywhere.
Stone fragments and debris burst through the windows like bullets.
She instinctively raised her arms—
But every sharp fragment barely grazed past her skin instead of piercing it.
The third talisman erupted with searing heat.
Then crumbled.
Scarlett's face lost all color.
Three talismans.
Destroyed almost instantly.
Death…
was no longer holding back.