Chapter 62: The Traitor’s Trap

In the gloomy alley, a single dim yellow streetlamp cast its weak light. Beside it, a patch of low-lying bushes rustled softly as a breeze swept through.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the thicket. They paused briefly by the streetlamp, then swiftly vanished back into the profound silence. Ella, a young woman, navigated the darkness alone, her hand tracing the cold wall.

Ella eyed her surroundings with caution. While Purburg’s nights had generally grown exceptionally quiet since martial law was imposed, with only the city’s various nightclubs still bustling with activity, this meeting location felt unsettlingly remote.

‘Was this meeting spot perhaps too secluded?’ she wondered, despite having attended numerous clandestine organizational gatherings before.

Slowly, Ella made her way towards the meeting room. Each step brought her closer to the house. Upon reaching the door, she gathered her courage, pushed it open, and stepped inside.

A faint yellow lamp emitted a dim glow within the room. The furnishings were starkly simple: rows upon rows of cabinets filled with books, and a single table cluttered with disorganized papers.

The chairs in the center of the room stood empty, and not a soul was in sight.

Ella frowned. ‘What was happening? Why had she been summoned for a meeting, only for no one to be here on time?’

‘Wait…’

‘Just a moment?’

A sudden, ominous premonition flashed through Ella’s mind. She hissed softly. ‘Come to think of it, when I pushed the door open just now, it wasn’t even locked?’

‘Strange, it’s far too strange. A secret meeting like this, and the door isn’t locked?’

The more she considered it, the more wrong it felt. Turning to leave, she had barely pivoted when the cold barrel of a black gun pressed directly against her forehead.

Startled, Ella froze, her gaze darting up to the person before her.

“Heh…” The man in black smirked disdainfully, a silenced pistol held firmly in his hand, aimed squarely at Ella.

Panic seized Ella. She couldn’t fathom why an enemy would be here. ‘What was going on?’

‘This…’

‘Was this a trap?!’

The man in black’s face was grim, his eyes fixed intently on her.

“Don’t move,” he commanded. “Stir again, and I’ll shoot. Now, hands over your head, and walk inside!”

Ella’s body trembled instinctively. Powerless, she retreated backward. The man in black forced her into a corner, then urged her again:

“Hands over your head, quickly!”

As the man in black spoke, several more figures suddenly entered through the doorway. They closed the door behind them and advanced. Ella reluctantly raised her hands, only for one of them to step forward and knock her unconscious with a muffled blow.

Darkness consumed her vision.

****

“Ugh!”

When Ella next awoke, her vision swam with golden sparks. It took a long while for the scene before her to gradually sharpen. Her head still throbbed faintly.

She turned her head, her heart seizing with alarm. She was bound to a wooden stool, her hands and feet secured by iron chains. A wave of intense anxiety instantly coursed through her.

In the dark room, fear, only fear, reigned supreme. Her emotions were on the verge of collapsing.

Just then, a powerful beam of light pierced her eyes.

The blinding glare stung, forcing her eyes shut. After a moment, her eyes slowly adjusted to the intensity of the light, and her vision finally cleared. Before her, a slender figure appeared.

The figure watched her coldly. Dressed in plain clothes, he leaned on an interrogation lamp, seated at a table with a notebook laid out before him.

‘This…’

In her panic, Ella struggled to widen her eyes, desperate to discern the identity of her interrogator. As she noticed his delicate features and his distinctive golden hair, something clicked in her mind.

‘Fran!’

She suddenly remembered who he was. Perhaps overwhelmed by fright, she didn’t even question why Fran was here. Instead, she strained her neck, craning forward as she loudly exclaimed:

“Fran? Mr. Fran, it’s me, Ella! I’m one of us! Please, help me! I don’t know why I was suddenly attacked by men in black!”

“Oh? One of us?”

Fran chuckled softly. “Miss Ella, you’re… one of us? Why would I be ‘one of us’ with you? Why… do I have no recollection of you at all?”

Ella was stunned.

‘This…’

She immediately began to explain, “We met at the tavern a few days ago, didn’t we? You’ve forgotten? You were right next to Mr. Lyon then, and I was a waitress at the tavern. We both work for the Teutonics! I’m Mr. Lyon’s informant!”

“Pfft, is that so?” Fran continued to sneer. This person was quick to incriminate themselves.

Ella nodded excitedly, saying, “We’re on the same side, Mr. Fran! Please, get me out of here! I still need to report to Lord Lyon!”

Fran remained seated, a cold sneer on his face as he turned his head away. Suddenly, his laughter grew manic. He pounded the table, bitter tears welling in his eyes. After a long moment, he clapped his hands, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he addressed the person before him:

“Heh, how interesting. You think I’m a traitor too? Hahaha… Even you believe I’m a complete traitor! Hahahaha—very well, Miss Ella, I’m so pleased to have your approval. Even you think I’m a traitor!”

He rose and leaned close to Ella, his eyes wide, threatening her. “What a pity, I’m afraid I can’t grant your wish.”

“Huh?” Ella froze for half a second. Fran’s glare jolted her awake. ‘No… that’s not right…’

She felt the hostility emanating from him, a hostility that made it difficult to breathe. As her mind cleared, a chill ran down her spine. She began to wonder:

‘If Fran is part of the Teutonic faction, then… how could he be here?’

‘Could it be… him?!’

‘The rumors are true?!’

‘No… that’s impossible. Mr. Lyon told me it was just a fishing trap…’

‘But…’

“You… you’re an undercover agent for the underground resistance?!”

Ella suddenly realized. Fran nodded coldly. “What else? And those two letters, I wrote them too, Miss Ella! How about that? Didn’t expect it, did you?”

“You? You wrote those two letters? The Patriot Alliance’s letters were written by you?”

“Precisely, they all came from my hand. And I also know that you are Lyon’s informant, codenamed ‘Carrier Pigeon.’ It was also you who betrayed the Patriot Alliance, deliberately leaking information to them, leading them to their deaths, wasn’t it?!”

Ella’s mouth fell open in disbelief, only to see Fran beside her had already pulled out a dagger. A cold expression on his face, he gestured with the dagger towards Ella. “You’d best confess everything yourself, otherwise… I can only guarantee that I’ll be slightly more merciful than the Teutonics in the security department…”

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