Stranger: Back Home

January 12, 3038

Central Region, Corinth Province, Hyderabad City

Inside the Apsara Foundation, 15th Floor

Russ stood on the balcony, a glass of expensive wine in hand, the lights of the sprawling city twinkling before him like jewels waiting to be plundered. His lips curved into a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained greed as he raised his glass in mock celebration.

"Aerum," he sneered, his voice dripping with false gratitude, "thanks to you, I managed to secure this $200 million penthouse on the top floor of the Apsara Foundation." He took a long sip of his wine, savoring the taste as though it were a tribute to his cunning.

As Russ gazed at the cityscape, a venomous bitterness rose within him. "Why was I cursed to be a commoner?" he growled, his voice heavy with self-pity and resentment. "I should have been born as a king, not a commoner. There is nothing wrong with what I have done. Life is unfair. I was given a chance, and I took it."

Turning his gaze back to the city below, he chuckled darkly. "I hope your sacrifice wasn't in vain," he muttered, the words heavy with cruel irony.

"With the money I've left," he mused aloud, a predatory gleam in his eyes, "I can finally retire. Live like a king. Surrounded by all the pleasures this world has to offer—many women, endless indulgence."

Throwing his head back, he erupted into a maniacal laugh. "HAHAHAHA!"

Drunk on his own greed and bloated arrogance, Russ barely noticed the faint chime of the doorbell cutting through his self-indulgent haze.

He frowned, his irritation barely masking his suspicion, and set the half-empty glass of wine on the table with an annoyed clink.

Staggering slightly, he approached the door, his fingers fumbling as he pressed the button to activate the security feed.

The screen flickered to life, but no one appeared outside. "Faulty tech," he muttered under his breath, turning away with a dismissive scoff.

As he stepped back toward the table, the doorbell rang again. Louder. Sharper. It sent a shiver down his spine, though he quickly drowned it in misplaced bravado.

"Damn S**t" he grumbled, hitting the security button once more. Still, the screen showed nothing.

Irritation turned to unease, but greed-fueled arrogance compelled him to yank the door open.

"Who dares—" he began, but the words never left his mouth.

A sudden, brutal blow struck the back of his head, and darkness consumed him as he crumpled to the floor, his delusions shattered in an instant.

Russ slowly regained consciousness. His body felt heavy, like a weight pressed down on his head. Blinking groggily, he opened his eyes, only to find his hands and legs bound tightly to a chair. Panic set in as he tried to scream, but a cloth stuffed into his mouth muffled any sound.

A sudden scraping noise caught his attention. He turned his head sharply to see Aerum dragging a chair across the room. She placed it in front of him and sat down with a calm, almost detached air.

"Oh, you're awake," she said, her tone eerily casual. "I've been meaning to have a little chat with you. But then, I heard you resigned. Funny timing, isn't it? How was I supposed to give you updates on Hazel Mountain if you're no longer around?"

Russ's eyes widened in terror. He struggled violently against the ropes, his chair creaking under the strain. Aerum tilted her head, watching his futile attempts with mild amusement.

"Relax," she said. "Finding you was easier than I thought. You're not exactly careful, are you? Posting your penthouse online? Really?" She gave a mocking smile. "And then, all it took was a quick search to find it. Convenient, isn't it?"

Russ shook his head desperately, trying to speak, trying to explain. Aerum raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "Oh, you want to say something?"

He nodded furiously. Aerum leaned forward, pulling the cloth from his mouth. The moment it was free, Russ blurted out, "Aerum, please! Forgive me! I swear, I didn't know what they'd do. They told me they just wanted to talk to you. They're from your family—I thought it was safe! I didn't know they'd try to kill you!"

Aerum's expression didn't change. Her voice dropped, cold and cutting. "Funny. I never mentioned anything about killing."

Russ froze. His panicked excuses faltered. "No… I didn't mean—"

"Spare me the bullsh*t," Aerum snapped, cutting him off. "It's been a hell of a day for me. Escaping traps, killing would-be assassins, uncovering secrets beyond imagination… I'm not in the mood for your lies."

She reached into her coat and pulled out a sleek, black gun (Devil gun). Without hesitation, she aimed it at his forehead.

Russ thrashed against his bindings. "Wait! Please! Just listen—"

Aerum's finger tightened on the trigger. He clenched his eyes shut, bracing for the shot. But when she pulled it, nothing happened.

Aerum examined the gun in her hand, her voice cold and detached. "This gun was given by my sister. After she left me—or so I thought—I tried using it countless times, but it never worked. Tell me, am I doing something wrong, or does it lack... something important?"

Russ exhaled shakily, relief washing over him. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, he froze.

A sharp glint flashed before his eyes. A blade.

Before he could scream, the knife pierced through the center of his forehead. It sliced cleanly through skin, bone, and brain. Russ slumped lifelessly in the chair, his face frozen in an expression of terror.

Aerum stood, her movements calm and deliberate. She wiped the blade on his shirt, then placed it back into its sheath. Without sparing a second glance at the body, she turned and walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind her.

After killing Russ, Aerum returned home with a heavy heart.

Without hesitation, she stripped off her blood-stained clothes, each piece falling like a burden she couldn't bear.

She stepped into the shower, letting the water wash over her, rinsing away the dirt and the crimson stains that seemed to cling to her soul as much as her skin.

Dressed in fresh clothes, she wandered to the window and sank onto the stool beside it.

The moon hung high in the night sky, its cold, pale light spilling into the room.

She stared at it, as if seeking solace, but the memories of her past began to surface.

The old memories, buried deep and forgotten, began to resurface as her cultivation progressed. Faces long obscured by time emerged—the loving faces of her father and mother. The tender touches, the sacrifices they made, all came flooding back, piercing her heart with a bittersweet ache.

Looking at the vast sky and the gentle moon above, she muttered, her voice trembling with emotion:

"Life is so fragile. All anyone wants is a life filled with love. The world is cruel, and we blame fate, But the true devil lies within the hearts of people. Is it so hard to live a simple, normal life?"

A single tear welled up, glistening in her eye.

As the memories unraveled further, she recalled the night she escaped into the forest.
Alone in the suffocating darkness, her small body trembled with fear.
She cried out for help, but only silence answered.
The biting cold of the night seeped into her bones, and hunger clawed at her, threatening to consume her entirely.

It was then that her sister's voice whispered within her, soothing her in the void.

That voice became her lifeline.

In the darkness, it radiated a warmth that chased away the chill, a solace that dulled the gnawing hunger.

Her sister's presence guided her through the endless woods, keeping her safe and grounded.

From that moment onward, their bond became her anchor. She never spoke of her sister to anyone—not out of fear of being labeled strange, but to protect the voice that had saved her in her most desperate hour.

The memory shifted to when she was only five years old—the day the Shadow Organization first attacked her. It was the aftermath of her parents' assassination, and survival became a merciless battle.

After narrowly escaping death, she dedicated herself to intense training, driven by an unyielding thirst for vengeance.

For three relentless years, she studied old technologies, honing her skills under her sister's constant guidance. Her efforts culminated in the death of Councilman Agent G, the man who had orchestrated her parents' murder.

With her revenge partially fulfilled, she changed her identity, but the Shadow Organization never ceased their pursuit. They tracked her mercilessly, forcing her to roam the earth, assuming new identities over and over again.

Finally, she found refuge in Corinth Province, An area ruled by her grandfather's family.

The province's strict surveillance laws made assassinations nearly impossible, granting her a brief reprieve from the relentless pursuit.

For years, she enjoyed the fragile peace, clinging to the peacefulness of a normal life.

But peace was fleeting. A cunning trap tore her away from her sister, her most cherished companion.
As the painful memory gripped her, tear welled in her eyes slid down her face, tracing the sorrow etched into her features.
Her heart ached for the voice that had guided her, for the warmth that had once shielded her from the darkness.

And now, sitting under the moonlit sky, she vowed silently to reunite with her sister, no matter the cost.

After a long time, she went to her bed reuniting in her dreams.

From the Author:

Thank you, ReadMyBook2023, for the power stone! I hope you and all the readers enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts—I'd love to hear from you! 😊