Buried memories surged up from the depths of his mind.
One week ago.
In a dim, cramped secondary bedroom, James sat on a chair. In front of him lay a woman on the verge of death.
Her entire body was covered in bulging veins. Her face was riddled with red acne and burst pus-filled sores, pitted and scarred. Large patches of her hair had fallen out.
"I'm so sorry…"
He looked at the dying woman he loved, his eyes filled with an indescribable exhaustion and guilt.
"Cough, cough!"
Hearing the sound, Mary slowly opened her eyes.
She looked at James, forcing a weak smile. Her voice was frail and powerless:
"Don't apologize… I told you… I want this pain to end."
James nodded silently, his hands gripping his knees so tightly the knuckles turned white. "Yes… you did say that, but… that's not an excuse for what I'm doing."
His expression twisted with unbearable conflict. His mouth opened and closed for a long time.
In the end, he endured the pain, looked carefully at his wife, and spoke with a trembling voice:
"The truth is… I hate you. I don't want to take care of you anymore…"
"I just want life to go back to normal."
Lying on the bed, Mary seemed almost resigned when she heard those words.
She let out a deep sigh, looked at James with nothing but gentle heartache in her eyes — no blame, only love. "If that's really how you feel…"
"Then why do you look so sad?"
That single sentence was the final straw.
The psychological wall James had built for so long completely collapsed. Tears he could no longer hold back poured down. He gently took Mary's hand, sobbing uncontrollably. "Mary…"
"It's okay, James."
Mary seemed to have expected this day long ago. She cut off his coming apology and self-blame, slowly pulling out an envelope she had written in advance.
"Here."
"What is this?"
James asked.
"This is what you've been searching for."
Then came the murder scene from earlier.
...
The memory faded. Consciousness returned to reality.
James slumped in the chair, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from his body.
So his wife Mary hadn't died of illness three years ago.
She had died just last week.
Smothered to death by his own hands with a pillow.
No wonder Mr. Soren had asked him those questions.
An enormous, unfillable emptiness instantly swallowed his heart.
He couldn't describe the feeling — it was as if a piece of his heart that should have been beating was simply missing.
This was what "going back to normal" meant?
If this was the price of freedom, then that freedom was far too heavy — so heavy that even breathing felt like a crime.
James's eyes were hollow. He subconsciously reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown medicine bottle —
White Claudia.
On the bottle were small printed words: This should do it. At a special time, in a special place.
He had prepared it for himself before killing his wife. They said that once you drank it, you would stay with Mary forever.
He had buried both the memory of the murder and this bottle together.
Now, the time had finally come to use it.
James slowly unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, and raised the bottle.
Whoosh—
A faint sound of breaking air rang out. A small stone struck his wrist with pinpoint accuracy.
"Ugh…"
The sudden pain made him instinctively loosen his grip. The bottle fell and shattered, the liquid spilling across the floor.
James clutched his reddened wrist and looked toward the doorway.
A man in a red trench coat was leaning against the doorframe, casually tossing a small pebble up and down in one hand.
"Mr. Sunderland, doing this is going to make things very difficult for me…"
Soren's current state wasn't great.
His coat had been slashed open in several large tears by the steel spider, exposing the skin underneath. His face was slightly pale from the stamina he had lost in the fight.
From a distance, he looked like a down-and-out beggar.
The moment he pushed open the door, he had seen this exact "swallowing pills to commit suicide" scene.
He looked at James's numb, empty expression and felt zero emotional fluctuation. "The commission isn't over yet. If you die, who's going to pay the final installment?"
James stared blankly at Soren. His emotions slowly returned, and shame appeared on his face.
"I… I killed her, Mr. Soren. I'm the real monster."
Soren pulled Mary's letter from inside his coat, flicked it with two fingers, and sent it flying over.
"Read it yourself. These are the words Mary left for you."
James looked at the envelope that had landed in front of him, hesitated for a moment, then tremblingly picked it up and opened it.
The first familiar line greeted him:
[James, you promised me one day you'd take me back there. That special little town. But you never did.]
As he read further, more familiar handwriting slowly appeared, like memories he had lost and regained.
[I know I made your life hell.]
[I wish I could change everything, but I can't.]
[I'm lying here waiting for you… how pathetic and ugly that is.]
...
[The doctor said I could come home for a few days.]
[I'm so happy. I miss you so much.]
[But I'm scared, James. I'm scared you won't want me back.]
...
[Especially when I found out I was going to die, I got so angry. I hurt everyone I loved — especially you.]
[So if you hate me, I understand. But I want you to know I will always love you.]
...
[I want you to keep living.]
[Keep living.]
[For yourself, and for others.]
[The way you once did for me.]
[James… you made me happy.]
Mary's gentle voice seemed to cross the boundary between life and death, between time and space, softly brushing across James's face.
Soren watched James's face twitch slightly.
Conflict, unwillingness, anger, helplessness…
All kinds of emotions flashed across his features, mixing together until only numbness remained.
Ding!
A familiar notification finally sounded in Soren's mind.
[Main Quest: Letter from the Dead Wife]
[Objective: Find James's wife, Mary]
[Quest Completed. James has confronted the truth and found the real Mary deep in his heart.]
[Reward: 1000 points credited. Bloodline Awakening in progress…]
[Bonus: Solo-killed James's inner demon — Maria. Additional reward: 500 points]
The instant the system message appeared, Soren felt a scorching heat explode in his chest, as if a drop of magma had flowed out from his heart.
Thump—
A heartbeat like a war drum detonated inside his body.
All the stamina he had exhausted in that brutal fight was instantly restored.
In its place, a violent, destructive power surged from his heart and spread throughout his body.
A demonic phantom flickered across his body — armor, powerful limbs, and the silhouette of unopened demon wings on his back.
The oppressive demonic shadow lasted only a moment before vanishing back into Soren like a brief blooming flower.
"Huff—"
Soren exhaled a long breath. The air twisted from the heat carried in that single sigh.