Chapter 13 Chapter 13 Will I Also Be Made...
Miss Foster cautiously reached for the magazine hidden atop the bookshelf. She quickly reloaded, while Elio, clutching his throwing knife, watched with bated breath as the intruder climbed in through the window and circled the living room, searching for them.
There was silence.
Until Elio's cell phone suddenly rang. He didn't dare to look at Miss Foster, but took a deep breath. The intruder had obviously heard the ringing and rushed straight to the study. But he didn't open the door immediately, instead he raised something with one hand.
——Why does he have a gun too? !
Elio tumbled and dodged in a panic, secretly hating himself for not being too embarrassed to take Alvin's equipment when he left. The bullet shattered the door panel, and Miss Foster, who had survived by leaning against the bookshelf, reached out and picked up Elio who had rolled in front of her.
Then there was a bang on the door. Elio swung the knife through the hole in the door, hitting the intruder in the chest. He fell without a sound, and the apartment returned to silence.
"Is he dead?" whispered Miss Foster.
"I'll go check it out," Elio said.
He stabbed the intruder several more times through the door, but the intruder made no sound. Reassured, Elio walked out the door, looking down at the intruder. At that moment, the "corpse" on the ground suddenly opened its eyes and lunged towards Elio.
Elio raised his hand to block, and they struggled for a while. The intruder, who had been stabbed several times, was slightly outmatched and gradually lost his strength. Elio seized the opportunity and threw him back onto the coffee table, shattering the vase that Miss Foster had just finished tending to.
Elio reached into his pockets and was about to pull out another throwing knife to deal a final blow to the intruder, but he found that his stock was exhausted.
At this moment, the intruder trembled a few times and climbed up from the ground. He looked at Elio, who was empty-handed, and sneered, "Assassin."
"From what I've seen so far," Elio said, making a fighting gesture, "you look more like an assassin than I do."
"We'll see," the intruder said. He raised his hand and feinted, and Elio dodged, his body swaying. The intruder smiled at him, and Elio grinned back through gritted teeth. Just as he was about to attack, he saw a vase fragment suddenly appear in the intruder's hand and fly towards him.
Elio immediately ducked behind the sofa, trying to emerge several times before quickly retreating. With a sharp, puffing sound, he burrowed into the leather and sponge. Finally, there was a pause. Elio figured he had used up all the broken vase pieces, so he emerged from the other side of the sofa and pounced on the intruder.
The intruder, who had been pulling the knife from his body, fell heavily back onto his body, strewn with flowers. Elio pushed the knife down hard, and the intruder roared in pain, struggling with him for the hilt. The struggle was brief, the tip of the knife piercing deeper and deeper. Suddenly, as if giving up, the intruder let go, and the knife plunged all the way into his body, burying the handle and everything in it.
Elio didn't hold back, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. The intruder smiled grimly at him and suddenly reached out with his empty hand; the tip of a knife flashed from his sleeve and pierced Elio's eyes.
Elio leaned back suddenly. But he clearly foresaw that at this distance, he had no time to resist!
With a bang.
The sharp sound of the hidden blade swishing past Elio's eyelids was so close to death that he fell to the ground helplessly. Elio breathed a sigh of relief and saw Miss Foster walking towards the study door. Without hesitation, he shot the intruder in the head again.
"Asshole," she said, "I spent an entire afternoon at the furniture store looking for that couch!"
Elio climbed off the intruder, wiping the burning wound beneath his left eyelid. He hissed, awestruck, as Miss Foster stood there, firing several more shots into the corpse's chest.
"You saved my life, Ms. Green," Elio said hoarsely.
"You saved my life too, Elio."
Under his surprised gaze, Miss Foster casually put the pistol back into her waist.
"He came after me," she thought thoughtfully, "probably because I hurt someone's interests..."
First she was kidnapped, then she was murdered in her home. It was obvious. She had been found, despite her caution. She had to tell Batman...
The sound of a police car downstairs interrupted Miss Foster's thoughts. She looked up and saw Elio squatting down quickly and peeling something off the corpse's hand.
"How do you know my name?" Elio asked without looking up.
"You're my student," Miss Foster said, crossing her arms. "You said so yourself."
Elio carefully pulled the knife from the body and put it back in his arms. He stood up and glanced at Miss Foster, wanting to say something.
"I remember your face," she smiled, "but you don't seem to remember me. So what are you doing here?"
“…I’m sorry, Ms. Green,” Elio said. “I’m a friend of Willow’s. I’m trying to find her. For various reasons, I can’t contact the police, and you’re the last person the school surveillance showed had contact with her—I’m sorry I lied to you. But if you can remember any clues related to this matter, I’d be very grateful.”
Miss Foster looked at him for a moment.
"Well, I told the police anyway," she said. "There were two vans that day. I was locked in one and Willow was in the other. When they were handing over, I heard a familiar voice and recognized it as Willow's brother Graham."
Elio stared at her quietly.
"—I made some noise and told Graham his sister had been kidnapped," Miss Foster recalled. "He was surprised. Or maybe a little angry. Anyway, he immediately rushed out in a hurry. I don't know what happened next, the car fell over, and I was knocked unconscious."
"I see," Elio said slowly.
He dropped his eyes for a moment, as if he were feeling a little sad. Miss Foster heard the ding of the elevator outside her door.
“If you can’t see the police,” she warned, “then you need to leave now.”
"I know." Elio glanced at the door behind him and walked towards the window. "Do you know who was behind your attacker?"
"I have no idea."
There was a knock on the door.
"Then I can give you a clue," Elio said. "The people who 'kidnapped' you that day were from Quinn's gang. They're trafficking people."
Miss Foster froze suddenly.
"You mean Quinn?" she demanded.
Outside, the Gotham Police Department was informing them of the noise complaints they had received.
"Liam 'Lucky' Quinn," Elio said, standing by the window and looking down. "Have you heard of that name?"
There's a river down there. Great! He's pushing the boundaries again.
"...He seems to be my husband's boss," Miss Foster murmured. "Johnny does his accounts..."
He closed his computer screen as she approached. He said she needed to rest. He took the children to their parents' house. He pulled them together at the door, urging them to kiss "your mom" goodbye. Memories flashed through Miss Foster's mind.
Elio glanced back at her.
"I'm sorry," he said gently.
The knocks on the door intensified. Miss Foster stood silently beside the body, blood splattering on the floor, soaking her slippers. The living room was a mess, a punctured pillow bursting with feathers, falling into a pool of blood strewn with flower petals.
"Don't say that," she whispered, "It's not your fault."
The knocking stopped. This was the prelude to the officer's breaking in. But Elio hesitated at the window for a moment, then hurried back. He pulled a pen from his pocket, quickly wrote out a string of numbers, and slipped the memo to Miss Foster.
"If you need any help, call me," he emphasized. "Any help, you understand? Don't do anything impulsive."
Miss Foster clutched the note he'd slipped into her hand and looked at her former student in surprise. Still staring at her, Elio repeated, "Don't do anything impulsive."
Before Miss Foster could say anything, the door burst open. Elio rushed to the window and jumped out.
Whether the officers who broke into the house noticed him from behind remains a mystery. But when Elio checked the news afterward, he saw no wanted notices for the home invasion robber. Instead, the news reported a woman who had killed the intruder, which relieved him.
Now that Graham and Willow's clues were connected, he only needed to keep an eye on Quinn's gang's human trafficking. But Elio was filled with doubts.
It was about the hidden blade, because Alvin told him that it was a weapon used only by assassins.
It was crudely made, lacking the triangular eagle beak logo, and was simply a trigger-activated dagger strapped to the arm. But the intruder had said that word himself.
"assassin".
As Elio wrote the word on the message board, the door to the safe house opened and closed. Alvin had returned from Blüdhaven.
"Ah, you're still alive," he said casually as they passed Elio. "I was worried you'd accidentally kill yourself the night I was gone."
Elio turned his head silently. Unable to get a response, Alvin glanced at the message board in confusion and noticed a new scratch on Elio's nose that looked like it had just healed.
"Almost," Elio said.
Alvin hesitated to speak.
Before he could say anything, Elio turned back to the message board.
"I have a question, Alvin," he said. "Are there any traitors to the Brotherhood?"
Elio got his answer from his mentor's silence. He picked up a pen and drew a line between "Assassin" and "Templar" and put a question mark.
"Where do traitors usually go?" Elio asked.
He didn't hear the approaching footsteps, but the next moment, Alvin's voice rang out behind him.
"We do our best to hunt down those who betray us," he said gravely, "but sometimes the results are unsatisfactory. They often turn to the Templars and become our persecutors. Who did you meet last night?"
"A man who could climb to the eighteenth floor unarmed." Elio looked at him. "I took his hidden blade. It's right there."
Alvin picked up the blood-stained Hidden Blade and examined it for a moment. His originally calm expression gradually turned into a look of confusion.
“It’s a knockoff,” he pointed out.
"Of course it is."
"No, you don't understand me." Alvin unsheathed his Hidden Blade and cut it open. "It's just a crude imitation—although whoever made this knew that assassins had Hidden Blades and that assassins could eject Hidden Blades from their wrists, they didn't really understand how they did it."
Elio watched in confusion as Alvin pulled the Hidden Blade from his hand and compared it with the replica for him.
"The Hidden Blade is a delicate device," Alvin explained. "It must be used correctly to strike without harming the user. Try it on."
At Alvin's signal, Elio put on Alvin's discarded Hidden Blade. As soon as he slipped it on his wrist, Alvin smiled.
"No, that's the wrong way around." Alvin spun him around. "If you put it on like you just did, the hidden blade will pop out and cut off your fingers."
Elio let go of his hand frustratedly and let Alvin put it on him. "Someone else must have made a mistake."
Alvin gave him a meaningful look. "Try it," he said, gesturing for Elio. "Move your ring finger."
There was a sharp sound. Elio unsheathed his Hidden Blade and saw his face reflected in the light. He twisted his wrist, and the reflection in the Hidden Blade was reduced to half his face. Across from him, Alvin's profile stared back at him.
"How does it feel?" said Alvin's half face.
"Should I feel anything?" Elio's half of the face asked.
"You'll find out how useful it is," Alvin shook his head. "But not now. Let's not talk about that anymore and get back to the topic we were talking about."
Alvin held out his hand. Elio thought he was going for his Hidden Blade, but as he went to unhook the device on his wrist, Alvin waved it off and took the pen from him.
"Keep it," Alvin said, turning his back and beginning to draw a schematic on the message board. "I'm making you a new one, but it's not finished yet. You might need it more than I do, and I have another one anyway—back to the point, I don't think this thing came from a traitor to the Brotherhood. They wouldn't make something this crude. This might be related to my purpose in coming to Gotham, which I haven't told you yet."
"Really? I thought you came here for me." Elio joked.
Alvin glanced at him with a mixture of helplessness and amusement, then pointed at him with the tip of his pen. The apprentice raised his hands, and they all laughed.
"Batman told me that there are assassin copycats appearing in Gotham," Alvin quickly returned to his composure. "We suspect someone is 'creating' assassins. The person you saw last night might be the assassin being created."
Elio's expression changed. "Creating an assassin?"
"From the eyewitnesses we've gathered so far, the artificial assassins have shown various characteristics of Isu ancestry," Alvin wrote on the information board. "Eagle eyes, climbing, fighting skills, and even the Hidden Blade you encountered... As for who's behind them and what their purpose is, we still don't know. I know you have your own cases to investigate, but if you come across any relevant leads, please let me know."
Elio didn't answer. Alvin glanced at him and found that Elio's expression was a little strange.
"What's wrong?"
“…Have you ever considered,” Elio said, “that I might also be a manufactured assassin?”
Alvin looked at him. The ballpoint pen turned thoughtfully in his hand. The assassin replaced the cap and tucked it back onto the message board.
"I thought about it," he said.
The author has something to say:
----------------------
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
