Chapter 512 Confused

Cole, Granger?

The name that Angel had always been reluctant to recall was once again before him, in such a despairing way.

Who then was I, Angel Granger? And who was the memory of Angel Grey in my head?

Angel's mind was in a mess. She couldn't help but look at Adam in front of her. The man in a white robe with a constant smile on his face was still waiting quietly, as if giving her time to "accept everything."

But how could I possibly accept this... Angel looked away, looking at the gradually clear crimson moon in the sky. The almost full crimson moon, just like the day she "came" to this world, cast its red gauze-like light onto the sea, onto the beach, penetrating the "psychological invisibility" and shining on the two of them.

From the night half a year ago when she woke up in the basement where "Cole Granger" died and saw the moonlight outside the window, she regarded this world as a "different world" and herself as a "visitor from another world". Based on the memory of "Angel Gray", she constructed a new identity of "Angel Granger", to distinguish herself from the murderer who died before taking the witch's potion.

But now, the person in front of him, who was most likely a high-sequence Beyonder from the audience, told him personally that all of this was just his "fantasy"?

I just forgot my past memories and thought of myself as another person.

What was the point of all he had done? He was still the murderer, his hands stained with blood and covered in sin, yet he still fooled himself into thinking he had escaped the past, had become a righteous person, and jokingly talked about "helping him atone for his sins"?

Angel hadn't known when, but was kneeling on the beach, with several special bullets that had just fallen from her hands in front of her, which "only she could make". Their copper shells showed a strange crimson color in the moonlight, like blood.

Her gaze lingered on the symbols and patterns carved by her own hands, and she reached out and gently picked up a "Storm Gathering".

Is all this also false?

The texture and cold temperature of the metal bullet in her hand seemed to mock her rejection of reality.

Adam took a step forward and stopped in front of her. Angel subconsciously looked up and met those light-colored pupils. There was no ridicule or contempt in them, only calmness.

But the gaze from above seemed like the gaze of a god.

"Then why are you telling me all this?"

She asked softly, her voice like a whisper, low and hoarse.

"To give you a crucial push. When you understand all this, you might even be grateful to me."

His words were still gentle, but they seemed to add another knife to the wound in Angel's heart.

Grateful? I want to shoot you right now… Angel clenched the Lucky revolver in her hand, but she had no urge to draw her weapon. She didn't know whether she had accepted reality or subconsciously believed that she could not harm the person in front of her.

Seeing her clench and unclench the pistol, Adam chuckled and looked up at the sky.

"'Sea King' has already left, and the Mandated Punishers will arrive soon. If you need to do anything, hurry up. If they catch you alive, they might track down others, such as your Klein Moretti."

“He” also knows Klein?

Angel's heart trembled, and he raised his head again, only to find that the blond man in front of him had disappeared. The beach was bustling with people, and the sounds were made by sailors and slaves, as if he was the only one there since a moment ago.

Only their vision through Angel's body proved that "psychological invisibility" was still effective and that the conversation between Adam and himself just now was not an illusion.

Her left hand moved unconsciously, picking up the five bullets on the ground, tremblingly put them back into the cylinder, put the cylinder back in place, and gripped the gun handle tightly.

A moment later, a sigh reached the ears of the woman with long golden hair and delicate skin who was closest to her. She trembled in panic and fear. She looked in the direction of the sound, but saw no one.

————

A few minutes later, a team of "Made Punishers" that was much larger than the normal configuration arrived at the scene with the help of a wind-loving person. The strong wind swept through somewhat uncontrollably, leaving behind several figures in windbreakers.

The leading "Manufactured Punishers" captain stood up from the beach, immediately looked around, and quickly determined the situation on the scene.

There was only a huge sailboat docked in this hidden private harbor, but it was now engulfed in flames, lighting up the entire beach like daylight. He tried to bring sea water to put out the fire, but soon gave up this futile effort and turned his attention to the people standing or sitting on the beach.

Most of the survivors were women in ragged clothes, with heavy shackles on their feet and their hands tied in a row with hemp ropes; a few dozen people were men dressed as pirates, many of whom looked crazy and had fear on their faces.

"Confirm their identity. This is most likely a slave trading team."

The captain frowned and gave instructions to the team members beside him.

He knew that the colonies were all involved in human trade to some extent. Things that were openly prohibited in the Northern Continent were actually more profitable in the Rorsted Archipelago. Moreover, these "slaves" on the beach were all young and beautiful women, and it was obvious where they were being sold to.

Walking around these frightened sailors and sobbing girls who seemed to be waiting to be captured, the captain came to the plank road beside the burning ship. There stood a wooden stake thicker than a thigh, which seemed to have been taken from the upper part of the mast. At the place where the stake was inserted into the wooden planks of the plank road, there were two figures stacked on top of each other, both of whom were pierced through the chest by the stake, with blood all over the ground. They were already dead.

The man below was wearing a tricorn hat, a black eyepatch covering his left eye, his right eye was wide open, and his face was full of panic, as if he had experienced something incredible before his death.

"Mad Captain" Connors Victor, captain of the "One-Eyed Skull", is suspected of having connections with many human traffickers and has a reward of 3,300 pounds.

So, this burning ship is the "One-Eyed Skull"?

He looked up at the silhouette of the ship in flames, trying to identify it, but soon felt his eyes burning, and was forced to look away, stopping at another corpse.

The man was short and wearing a cloak. Compared with the tall Connors, he looked like a child. The thick wooden stake almost tore his chest and made his painful face unrecognizable.

But only two fingers were left on the dangling left hand, allowing the captain of the "Manufactured Punisher" to quickly recognize the identity of the deceased.

The broker in the "Red Theater", "Finger" Maduni.

He often provided special services to high-ranking officials at the Governor's Office and the Naval Base in Bayam who behaved less than respectably, and thus had long been registered with the Mandated Punishers.

It is not difficult to see that a transaction was taking place here not long ago. The two parties were the "Mad Captain" and "Finger", and the "goods" being sold were the women on the beach. They would then most likely enter the "Red Theater" and become a tool for making money, or be presented to some bigwigs as gifts to make them turn a blind eye.

So, the person who killed the two people and burned the "One-Eyed Skull" was a "good-hearted person" who couldn't stand these pirates and disrupted the human trade?

He looked around in confusion, but just like "Sea King" Yann Kottman ten minutes ago, he found nothing.

————

Click.

The door of the luxurious suite on the top floor of the "Blue Wind" hotel was opened, and a somewhat thin figure entered through the crack in the door and closed the door casually.

In the dark living room, only the red moon outside the balcony provided a little light. Angel moved to the single sofa next to the balcony in a daze, but did not stay there. Instead, he walked to the double sofa on the other side, fell down with a thud, and lay on the soft fabric surface.

At this moment, she didn't even know whether her habit of "liking to sit on a single sofa" came from her heart.

Klein went to Tiana Island this week to fulfill the last wish of a deceased novelist in Bayam and to perform his final role as the "Faceless Man". She was the only one in the suite, but Angel was extremely grateful for this because she had no idea how to face Klein, the man who fell in love with her but had no idea about her background.

But while she was thankful, she also felt a little regretful. If Klein was right beside her, perhaps she could muster up the courage to tell him everything and listen to his thoughts.

Thoughts... What could he think of a person whose identity was false, whose memories were false, and whose personality might even be false?

Laughing to himself, Angel turned around, lying on his back and looking at the ceiling.

If Klein knew everything, knew that he was actually the "Cole Granger" wanted by the church; knew that he had simply forgotten the past and thought it was done by someone else; knew that he had the lives of more than ten innocent people on his hands...

And how did he easily get rid of these sins and confidently say that he had not harmed innocent people when he swore to the goddess?

What kind of bullshit beliefs and inner rules are these? Are they all fake?

They're all fake!

Confused thoughts flashed through Angel's mind, and he didn't know when he was in tears. He curled up and fell asleep on the sofa.

Black lines appeared on her face, like the colors of an oil painting, or like protruding blood vessels, quickly covering every inch of her skin, spreading to her neck and around her body.

Her long, light golden hair intertwined and merged into thick branches, like poisonous snakes with their own lives, with their tips opened, some becoming eyes, and some opening into mouths.

As if experiencing great pain, Angel moaned softly, twisted his body restlessly, and turned his face towards the window. The black paint on his face became increasingly thicker.

At this moment, the moon, which was almost full and gradually emitted a blood-red color, became dim. A quiet breath drifted by, and the soft moonlight covered Angel like a veil.

Her breathing, which had been becoming heavier, seemed to calm down a little.