686: Where Are You Going?!

Where Are You Going?!

Zeke only felt surprised for a second before he quickly readjusted his emotions. This was not the first time he had experienced a terrorist attack in the simulation, yet last time, the situation had been very chaotic with a bunch of men intruding into the Imperial Palace carrying guns, cannons and bombs with them. And he had died in the middle of running away.  1

This time, the institute had finally made some changes to the scenario.

It was not a group, but a single man's doing. He had chased away the servants and killed every member of the royalty, leaving only the King for the last. Zeke glanced at his dying Imperial Father with not even a hint of compassion in his eyes. Instead, he was more interested in observing the assassin.

Standing in the middle of a hall full of corpses with the overcast sky and heavy snowflakes as a backdrop, he painted a very picturesque yet bizarre image, almost as if he had walked straight out of an oil painting. 

Zeke was surprised to find that the assassin was so young, at most only one or two years older than him. Blood had splattered all over his body, almost turning his black clothing damp. The crimson streak across his cheek became all the more striking against his fair complexion and bright blonde hair.

He looked more dead than alive. Just like God of death, or a grim reaper who was here to reap these sinful souls.

Zeke knew some insider information. Usually, the researchers would create virtual characters based on themselves, it was just like how an artist would leave a signature on their painting. He combed through his memory, yet he still could not pinpoint which researcher this blonde assassin was based on. 

Amidst the thick tension in the air, nothing could be heard except for the King's laborious breathing. Perhaps he had known that the only way forward for him was death, he simply threw caution to the wind and sneered, his tone taunting. "I didn't expect… Minister Lu's grandson would come to knock on my door. Say… if he were to see you right now… what would he think…?"

The assassin was still gazing down at him coldly as though what the King said was nothing more than a fleeting breeze. 

Zeke admired how steady and cool he was. He had known early on that his Imperial Father's reign was more evil than good. He was selfish, tyrannical and paranoid. He had the blood of many innocent lives in his hand, and Zeke, too, would have been one of his victims had he not been lucky to evade death all this while. It was just time for someone to come and seek revenge on him.

He had only one thought in his mind: serve you right.

He was starting to yawn in boredom when the assassin finally lifted his gun. Every single body Zeke had encountered on his way here had been killed in one clean head shot, but only the King had numerous bullet wounds on him, all within non-vital areas. This time, too, when the assassin opened fire, it only hit the King squarely on his thigh. 

"Ahh—!!" An agonizing howl escaped his lips.

Zeke grimaced and used his little paws to cover his ears tightly. Damn it! The old man's voice was so aggravating! Why didn't the assassin just kill him now?! Were his ears not hurt when he listened to this kind of ugly scream?!

Another bullet was fired, then another, and another.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The assassin's expression hardly changed, yet it gave Zeke the impression that he was venting some kind of intense emotions within him. 

All of the bullets were embedded deeply into the King's body, almost turning him into a human sieve. Blood poured out continuously of the wounds, forming a thick crimson pool around him. His body jerked and spasmed violently. He was in so much pain that he could not even scream anymore. "Don't…" he wheezed out amidst the gurgle on his throat. "M–Mercy… Have… mercy…"

"Keep talking," an emotionless and slightly hoarse echoed softly in the air, almost drowned out by the whistling wind outside.

Zeke was flabbergasted by how unreasonable he was. The King was already on his last breath, how could this person expect him to keep talking? It was lucky if he could take five more breaths, okay?! 

His conjecture was soon proven right. The King drew in one breath, two breaths and then… his entire body turned still. His health was already fragile to begin with and coupled with the severe injuries, he could no longer hold on and swiftly breathed his last. Life quickly drained from his bloodshot eyes, transfixed at the very person whose gun muzzle was still pointed at him.

Zeke sharply held his breath. Now that Imperial Father had died, then… it would be his turn next. He had no idea why he was transported into a little cat's body. In normal scenario, the assassin was supposed to find him – the King's beloved son – hiding behind the pillar then dragged him out and continued another round of torture until every single person in the Palace was dead. But how was he supposed to do that when Zeke was in this body?!

He was just contemplating if he should go ahead and offer himself when the assassin's fingers twitched in surprise. He did not seem to expect that the King would die so fast. A flash of rage fleeted past his eyes and then he fired his gun, again and again, on the King's lifeless body until his magazine was empty. Even then, instead of looking relieved, his expression became all the more twisted, as though he was angry at himself for killing his enemy so soon. His harsh and agitated breathing echoed in the deathly place akin to an injured beast trapped in a cage.

Zeke grimaced. As he expected, the assassin's bloodlust had not been satiated yet.

Just as he was ready to reveal himself, the assassin suddenly threw his gun aside and turned around, swaggering his way toward the front gate that was already soaked in blood, leaving behind a dumbfounded little black cat.

Hey, where are you going?! You should kill me first! How am I supposed to get out of the simulation otherwise?!

Without giving himself any room for doubt, he rushed out from behind the pillar and chased after the assassin. He opened his mouth and intended to call him out, but when his eyes landed on the man's back… he suddenly could not bring himself to make any sound. 

The man's physique was very proportional, sturdy and powerful. In one glance, Zeke could tell that he was not someone to be trifled with. Yet for some reason, when he gazed into the assassin's back which was gradually blurred by the fierce snow, he got the strange impression that… the man looked exceptionally fragile and lonely. As if he would shatter with the slightest touch.

He was startled when the notion first appeared in his mind. This was only a simulation and everyone inside was only a virtual character, including the assassin and himself. So how could someone showcase such complex and profound emotions? Impossible, it must only be a figment of his imagination. 

Giving his head a little shake, Zeke continued on his endeavor to offer his poor cat life to the assassin.

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