Chapter 20【VIP】
Opesa's heart trembled violently.
Where did the note come from? On Holly's body? She immediately thought of Sinderel's strange behavior after waking up in the orphanage. Did he already know her identity at that time?
Breathing suddenly became difficult. Opesa quickly picked up the design draft and the note and put them on the table, recalling what the table looked like just now and rearranging them.
How did she put it there? She was so confused that she couldn't think calmly. Her fingers started to feel cold and trembled unconsciously.
She fled from Sinderel's room and paced back to her bedroom.
What will happen next? She bit her fingers, not knowing how the future would develop.
Why didn't Sindriel kill her? Why didn't he question her?
He clearly knew his secret, but he didn't show any reaction and instead faced himself as usual.
Why is this happening? She doesn't know.
She couldn't just sit there and wait for death.
Fortunately, she remembered she had a plan. She hadn't received a response to her last inquiry from Anastasia, so she needed to find her and get a definitive answer. Her two daughters had recently established a relationship with a wealthy businessman's daughter, so she could simply go over there and find her.
After quickly packing her luggage, Opesa walked quietly around the hall, slowly opened the door and went out.
She didn't notice that behind her, a pale shadow emerged from the gap in the kitchen, staring quietly at her leaving back.
He had long felt that this woman had become strange. Ever since the strange fragrance appeared, Opesa's behavior had become completely different.
This was a trap he had deliberately set up so that Opesha would see it and then take the initiative to look for information about him.
The moment he was brought to the slave farm by Holly, he exposed his identity. He didn't expect that it would be an insignificant maid who exposed him, nor did he expect that he could learn the woman's secret from the maid.
When he got the note, he was confused at first.
The handwriting was strange, beyond his comprehension. But beneath the note, a translation had already been written, making the content even stranger. It was as if someone was getting to know a complete stranger and then recording what they already knew.
At the bottom, Holly's crooked words: "She" is not Mrs. Opesha.
The doubts were resolved and the strange behaviors were explained.
But these truths still challenge his inherent cognition. He believes that there are gods and angels in the world. Even if those gods have never saved him, he is convinced that there are perfect and holy gods in this world.
That woman came from another unknown world.
Until he barely figured out the logic, his first reaction was an inexplicable expectation.
Sinderel thought of the story about angels that his sister told him before she died.
Could this soul from a completely unknown and unfamiliar world be the angel that would free him from his shackles? He didn't know, nor was he sure if he still had the qualifications to ascend to heaven.
He had long been forced to be stained with blood, Satan's call echoed in his ears all the time, the souls of the dead always entangled his limbs hideously in the dark night, and the dark past accompanied by violence and hunger always rushed into his brain madly, telling him all the time to remember that he was a person abandoned by the light.
Sinderel almost completely believed that sentence - "The Son of God" must endure eternal loneliness and pain in order to get the chance to ascend to heaven.
The God he believed in was unwilling to save him, but instead imposed on him the heaviest fate.
He wanted to see what expression this woman would have when she knew his full appearance.
Wearing a coat that concealed his features, Sinderel followed quietly on horseback. He watched Opesha get off the carriage, then dismounted himself, whispering a few words to the horse to wait at the city gate.
He watched Opesa walk towards a market, and then saw his annoying sister walk out, and the two of them whispered something.
It was a bit far away, but his keen hearing, which was used to survive in the dark, was enough for him to hear their conversation.
"Did you find out?"
"Yes... Mother, why are you investigating the killer? This is too dangerous and too bad!"
"I'm worried that Holly is the killer. If she is, then many people will want my life next. God bless you, I don't want anything to happen to you. Tell me what you found out first."
"I asked this as a joke during the tea party. The young lady said her company had a partnership with the Pace Trading Company. Previously, during maritime trade, the Pace Trading Company had sent people to provide escorts. I heard that those escorts never showed up. When it came time to pay, the Pace Trading Company said anyone who showed up with a dagger would be paid directly."
Silver tongued.
Secretly investigating, Sinderel hid in the corner and listened with his eyes lowered.
"So... Pei wants to manage?"
"If that's what I heard, I think it's likely. The symbol of the black market is the dagger, but how..."
Any other news?"
"...There's a piece of news that's half true and half false. It was revealed by this wealthy woman after a drunken accident. It's said that the church has always been protected by the Pace Trading Company, and those assassins were all selected and forced into the position by the priest."
Father. Sinderel's eyes darkened.
This noble person, whom he once admired, gave him the heaviest mark.
"Father?" He heard Opesa's slightly raised tone of doubt. Perhaps she didn't expect that a killer, such a filthy being who had never seen the light of day, could actually talk with the representative of God and the disseminator of truth.
No one will know, and even if someone hears it unintentionally, they will deliberately treat it as a joke.
"Anatasha, you did a great job." He didn't hear Opesha's comments or response. After a moment's silence, Opesha asked, "Have you decided on the specific time for the next party?"
"Yes, on the last day of the month."
"Okay, I'll offer the gold coins before that."
Hearing this, Xindrel couldn't help but frown.
Where could she get the money? If she remembered correctly, the debt to those people in the trading house had to be repaid on the fifth of next month.
Thinking of what she was busy with, Xindrel just thought she was naive.
She had no idea how terrible this world was. That group of people would never let her succeed easily. If she showed any signs of trying, troubles would come like mushrooms after rain, and eventually they would be forced to become prisoners and then locked in cages as slaves without human rights.
He knew better than anyone how cruel those people were, having experienced it firsthand.
This woman will probably be tortured to death in a few days.
The woman's footsteps clunked past, and Sinderel turned away, avoiding the edge of her vision.
Where is she going next? Curious, my steps also moved.
Following, he saw the roof of the church.
His fingers couldn't help but shrink, and Sinderel looked at the woman who didn't know how to live or die coming to the church with a pale face.
Even though he didn't dare to enter the place, the woman just walked forward with a clear purpose and entered the church.
Was she really going to die? Sinderel couldn't understand. No matter how stupid this person was, she knew that the Trading House was something even the royal family didn't dare touch, and that the Trading House controlled the Assassin's Guild and protected the Church. She should have avoided it, not gone straight to death.
He only knew a little about the secret cooperation between the trading house and the church, which was what was discussed in the conversation just now.
The priest is looking for a "son of God" chosen by fate.
The "Son of God" must bear the pain on behalf of all living beings, and can only be redeemed after suffering.
And that poor man wrapped in fate is him.
He was born a slave. Ever since he could remember, he had lived in a cramped and damp cage with a group of slaves whose numbers were too numerous to be identified.
The place was very small and dark, and one had to curl up into a ball to sleep. If one met someone stronger than oneself, one would inevitably be beaten.
In addition to the exclusion and bullying among the same kind, there is also torture from those outside the cage who can control their own destiny.
Despair accompanies him day and night. Since he was born, he understood that the chain around his neck was fate, and that he would eventually fall into the hands of the so-called "master" and continue his destined destiny.
His memory has always been repetitive and rigid.
Until that day, a priest in black and white appeared. The color was exactly the same as what he saw, even blending into one, but he noticed the red book with his sharp eyes.
The only vivid color, the only color other than black and white, that he had ever seen in his life.
He will always remember the moment the book fell in front of him and he reached out his hand to touch the paper.
That was a turning point in fate and the arrival of another kind of pain.
Sinderel clenched his hands violently, pinching the tender flesh of his palms with his nails.
The pain cleared his confused mind, and he took a step forward without hesitation, entering a place he never wanted to enter again in his life.
It seemed as if the prayer had just ended. He was surrounded by devout believers, but he ignored them like transparent air. His footsteps finally stopped at the door of the church, about twenty or four steps away.
He heard a subtle movement from inside, and then a woman's voice: "Hello, respected father, my name is Opesha. I came to visit today because I have some questions I would like to ask."
"..." It was like a priest turning around, slowly examining her for a moment, and then a magnetic and low voice, deeply etched in my mind, rang out, "Hello, Madam. It's my honor to help you out. Have you encountered any troubles recently?"
"To be honest, my visit today is not because I encountered any difficulties, but because I want to ask the priest about something."
"Oh?" The priest obviously didn't expect Opesa's intention. "Please forgive me, ma'am. I've been in the church for a long time, so I may not be able to give you the answer you want."
"Father, you must know. If you don't, I can't think of anyone who does." From inside came the sound of fabric rustling, followed by the crisp sound of paper falling. "Father, have you ever seen this pattern?"
Shrinking in the shadows, Sinderel thought of the pattern painted on the title page of the Bible.
"This pattern...where did you get it from?"
How could he not know? He knew the meaning of the pattern better than anyone else.
Because he was carrying a divine mission, he chose to gamble with his life and became a killer who would die if he failed, thinking that this would allow him to gain the so-called freedom.
"Oh, this is a pattern I came across by chance. I thought it was very mysterious, so I wrote it down." Opesa pondered with ease, "Does the priest recognize it?"
"It seems the lady has a good eye. No one has ever asked me about anything other than my worries. Let me explain it to you. Some theological interpretations say that this pentagram represents the five wounds of Christ, symbolizing the beauty of devotion."
"I see." Opesa asked somewhat distressedly, "But why does it have a pair of wings? There shouldn't be more than just this explanation, right?"
"Ma'am, I think your purpose here is not just to inquire about the pattern."
This straightforward question was met with skepticism from the priest, and Opesa calmly followed up, "Father, do you know anything about the 'Son of God'? I used to do business in the black market and have heard rumors about this, and I've always been interested in it."
She was not at all timid and stated her purpose directly.
The priest was silent for a long time, his footsteps slowing down. "Do you know 'Son of God'?"
"Yes."
"Before answering your question, I would like to ask you, do you know the story of suffering creating saints?"
“Is it the story of Jesus’ crucifixion?”
“Jesus was born holy and performed many miracles, making the paralyzed walk, the deaf hear, and the dumb speak. Unfortunately, he was exposed to fire and water, sentenced to death, and endured worldly pain and suffering. However, because of this, he received God’s mercy and salvation, and from then on he interceded for believers.
"The 'Son of God' is a being that appears once every thousand years, inheriting the will of Jesus. It is innately bound to endure suffering until the moment of its demise." The priest paused, "This pattern is the mark of the 'Son of God'."
Son of the God.
The title that Sindriel hated most.
He could still remember the strong and foul smell of blood in the Colosseum, as well as the rotting corpses everywhere with flies and mosquitoes flying around.
In order to survive and fight back, he learned how to communicate with animals, how to use sharp weapons, how to hide, and even his ears gradually became more sensitive in the invisible darkness.
Living is harder for him than dying.
"Madam, excuse me for asking, but do you know Sindrel?" the priest asked with a smile. "You recognize this symbol, so it seems you didn't see it by accident. I assume you are Charlie Brand's wife and Sindrel's stepmother, right?"
Charlie Brand was the name of the man who bought Sinderell home.
Sinderel could not see him as a father and would never acknowledge the man as his nominal father.
In his numb and decayed memory, this man had never fulfilled his responsibilities as a father.
He is a beast in human form.
Having her identity exposed, Opesa was stunned: "How... did you know..."
"Because he is the child I found. Sindriel is indeed the 'Son of the Lord God.' He possesses a look comparable to that of a god, eyes as pure as the sky, and a fate that is truly tragic. Since you came to ask me, perhaps you have seen the mark on his ribs. But do you know his true identity?"
He hated his face, and even though everyone who saw it praised him, he hated it so much that he wanted to destroy it.
He remembered those days and nights, those days and nights when he was ordered by men to please the other family. He could still vividly remember the touch of disgusting and rough hands caressing his body. He had to pretend to please them and then strike them with his knife when they were least prepared, reaping their lives.
He had always been an object, a sharp weapon ready to be used at any time. No one regarded him as a living being, and even the rare caress from his mentally ill "mother" was done in the name of his deceased sister to soothe her wounded heart.
He doesn't even get to choose his gender.
"His background?"
“I first met him in a slave farm. Yes, it was destined. He would not have a good background or future. Even his personality was eccentric and weird, like a walking corpse.
"As if to defy fate, he chose to become a killer. He was exceptionally cold-blooded, brutal, and extremely intelligent, able to kill anyone who stood in his way without anyone noticing. Later, he was purchased by Charlie Brand and became his nominal child.
"During that time, all merchants and nobles who opposed Charles Brand met their end. I cannot tell you how I know this, and as a representative of God's will, even if I knew this, I could not interfere; I could only observe.
"I need to remind you that he carries a divine destiny and has endured pain since birth, affecting those around him. Furthermore, as a killer, he is constantly condemned by the Pure Ones. Countless souls have perished at his hands, and these will become karma that will backfire on him and those around him. I suggest you stay away from him. It's best to send him away."
The priest's eyes were as sharp as needles, and when they swept over Opesha, she felt only pain.
Separated by a wall, Sinderel leaned against the beam, the winter chill extending along his back and corroding every limb.
The shadow and the sunlight were only toe-to-toe apart, but he didn't dare to cross that line, for fear that the scorching light would burn his dirty and dark soul.
He was born in darkness and was born unfortunate.
Knowing the truth, she would probably also feel that he was despicable. His whole body was riddled with holes from being eaten by carrion maggots, and anyone who saw him would feel disgusted.
"——Thank you for the reminder, Father. These are some things that are worth pondering."
Sinderel's eyes moved.
In the end, he finally gave up his so-called hope.
"Excuse me, but a barbarian who hasn't received a good education can abandon the inherent rules of survival in the woods and then talk about nobility? This is obviously unreasonable. This is not destiny, but the result of his upbringing.
"I don't believe that under the right guidance, he would be as cold-blooded and ruthless as you say—unless he's born a super-male, in layman's terms, it's caused by a genetic defect or disease, and there's really nothing we can do about it.
"Although I may be an insignificant person to her, as a mother, this is my duty. The blame should go to his biological parents who abandoned him, rather than putting the blame on him and accusing him of a trumped-up crime. He did nothing wrong."
His pupils contracted unconsciously, and he didn't know when, the colorful sunlight slanted over half of his body.
"She's a person with a weird temper, moody, dangerous, stubborn, and a worrying fool, but she's also kind, at least she'd fight for me... That's certainly not something to praise, but I won't give up on her."
He had no expectations.
But this person appeared, forcefully intervened in his world, and used awkward actions to care for him when he was about to give up on himself and on the verge of collapse.
He didn't even know her name or what she looked like.
But she actually became a god who reached out to him.
After those impulsive words were spoken, an eerie silence fell over the church. Opesa bowed uncomfortably and said, "Sorry, Father, I'll take my leave now."
But just as she turned around, someone grabbed her wrist tightly.
The emerald eyes were still obscured by the long blond hair, making them clearly blurry, but Opesa could see a burst of clarity, like a gem soaked in water, reflecting light.
She subconsciously wanted to look back at the priest, but she couldn't move her eyes away from Sinderel's capture. She saw her reflection in Sinderel's eyes, saw his lips move slightly -
Come with me.
The church enshrines a high and mighty god, and the god's messenger cruelly issues the death penalty.
The young man held his unbelievable angel and stood under the critical scrutiny of all the gods.
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