Chapter 49: The Empty Gun and a Terrible Choice

The black muzzle of the gun was aimed at the dying old man, and Fran’s mind raced as his hand gripped the handle. It was time for another choice. He closed his eyes, contemplating his next move. What should he do? What could he do?

Teutonic patience was finite; he had to provide an answer promptly. Fran knew this was a test. Ultimately, the direct cause of the entire situation was the pervasive suspicion directed at him, both inside and outside the mansion.

They needed Fran to do something, to declare his allegiance, to prove that he was one of them. Otherwise, this suspicion would never cease.

But…

Fran’s heart was in a furious struggle. He couldn’t bring himself to do it—to kill a man who had tried to save him, a man who had treated him with such kindness.

Even if this man didn’t die by his gun, he would likely perish by the Teutonic blade. Perhaps, in a twisted way, this would be a release.

This internal conflict and torment constantly drained Fran’s last vestiges of willpower. His nerves were taut, and the coin of fate in his mind spun wildly with the passage of time.

Finally, Fran looked at Colonel Raif once more. The old man’s face still bore a look of unwavering determination as he stared at Fran, who couldn’t comprehend its meaning.

Indeed, he was an unyielding warrior, an old man stubbornly clinging to honor, ready to meet death gallantly—a warrior’s pride. But…

Fran wondered if he was merely projecting his own thoughts. Had Colonel Raif understood the meaning behind his earlier words? Could he grasp Fran’s predicament and face his final moments with a sense of solace?

Fran didn’t know.

What ultimately solidified his resolve was Colonel Raif’s steadfast gaze, a gaze in which a fervent hope briefly flickered. Then, Fran heard the old man shout at him:

“Fran, don’t make me look down on you! Be decisive, you bastard! Shoot!”

Why would you utter such a mocking phrase with an encouraging tone, Colonel Raif?

‘I’m sorry…’

“Click—”

****

He pulled the trigger, feeling his legs go weak, and closed his eyes, unable to face what lay before him.

Yet, the gun did not fire.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes, bewildered. Colonel Raif was also stunned, gritting his teeth, thinking Fran hadn’t dared to shoot. In his heart, he cursed Fran for being such a useless boy.

But…

Quidar suddenly clapped his hands, a cold smile playing on his lips. He walked up to Fran, snatched the gun from his hand, wiped the stock, and spoke.

“A bit timid, Secretary Fran, but possessing the courage to shoot is enough.”

He held the gun and turned away, a flicker of doubt in his own mind. He hadn’t expected Fran to actually dare to pull the trigger.

Perhaps he had overthought things?

He sighed, but remained cautious, speaking to the others with his back still turned:

“However… I still need to teach you a lesson, Secretary Fran. Keeping someone like him for further interrogation is far better than simply killing them. He still holds many secrets…”

Fran gasped for air, staring at Quidar, a wave of revulsion washing over him.

That man… had given him… an unloaded gun.

A chill ran down his spine. If he had hesitated, if he had aimed the gun at anyone, attempting to take a hostage, he would have been instantly riddled with bullets.

Quidar’s mind was terrifying. Not to mention, he intended to continue torturing Colonel Raif.

“Alright, we’ve been busy since morning. Thank you all for your trouble. I’ll handle the interrogation myself; you can all go back and rest early.”

Quidar spoke to the group with his back turned. The room fell silent. After a long pause, Yuli stepped forward, took Fran’s hand, and gently comforted him.

“You must be tired. Let’s go back to the mansion.”

“But…”

Fran couldn’t help but glance at Colonel Raif again. The old man was looking back at him, an anxious expression in his eyes, his head tilted slightly forward, gesturing towards the door.

Colonel Raif knew he was a dead man, no matter what. Moreover, he now carried an important secret. He was old; he couldn’t contribute much more.

He only hoped his current suspicions were correct, and that Fran hadn’t disappointed him.

‘Is he… telling me to leave?’

Fran closed his eyes and sighed. Indeed, there was no point in staying longer. He couldn’t rescue Colonel Raif right now.

He could only leave and quickly devise another plan.

‘Hold on… You must hold on…’

He turned his head. Yuli led him out of the room, holding his hand. Lyon, walking behind them, blocked his view when he tried to glance back at Colonel Raif one last time.

Pushing open the iron gate of the Security Department and stepping back into the outside world, Yuli took a deep breath. The fresh air invigorated her, and her expression softened slightly. Without pausing, she turned to the younger man and her childhood friend behind her.

“We’re finally out. I really can’t stand the smell in there. Ugh… a mix of rust and blood, and no ventilation. It made me…”

Lyon nodded, took two steps back, and looked again. He clicked his tongue. “Hmph, they only caught people they could catch anytime. I don’t know what that guy is trying to show off, sigh—”

The conversation of the two echoed in Fran’s ears, but he could only keep his head down.

‘Why…’

‘Why, indeed…’

He didn’t care about Quidar’s attitude, nor did he want an apology.

He couldn’t utter a single word right now. He just wanted to know why he had been born into this era.

This… garbage era.

“Bang—!”

A sudden gunshot shattered everyone’s thoughts. The sound from not far away made them all instinctively turn their heads towards the Security Department.

It was quiet as usual, making Fran momentarily dazed, as if he had misheard…

His eyes wide, he stared intently at the building. A deathly silence reigned until Quidar’s angry roar erupted from within.

“You fool! What are you doing?! Why did you shoot!”

“Report, I… wasn’t careful when I untied him. He suddenly tried to grab my gun, couldn’t get it, and then he just pulled the trigger…”

“Useless! Absolutely useless!”

Amidst the chaotic struggle, curses, and…

Faint sobs from inside the Security Department.

No, actually, that was Fran’s voice.

He quickened his pace, unable to bear another look back, even if all he could see was that ominous large building.

He walked at the forefront, facing the bleak sky, watching the sunset, silently wiping away tears that couldn’t be seen.

‘Colonel Raif…’

‘Colonel Raif…’

Yuli quickly caught up. Fran didn’t look at her, only kept his head down and said, “I… I suddenly have something to do. You go back first.”

“Mm…” Yuli nodded, gently admonishing, “Come home early. I’ll be waiting for you.”

****

A lonely figure stood by the mailbox, opening it listlessly like a walking corpse. He reached into the dark compartment, fumbling until he felt the rustling touch of paper.

The young man frantically pulled out the newspaper, his hands trembling as he held it up to the setting sun, revealing clear text.

On an inconspicuous small section of page B, an advertisement signed by Mofan Bookstore was hidden:

Wildfire rages fiercely, wind chimes startle with their ropes.

Hidden in secret places, fireflies glow; the bookstore, a new treasure trove, awaits your return.

Newly arrived literary masterpieces for appreciation—

“The air trembles, as if the sky is burning.

Yes, the storm is coming.”

To purchase, act quickly.