After making sure the poison's flow has stopped and locking Deathstalker away—shoving him into a dungeon that somehow formed in the deepest, darkest corner of my mind—I rip myself free from the abyss and force my consciousness back into reality.
The moment my eyes snap open, my body jerks upright.
Master Long is gone.
My breath is still uneven when I see figures moving, their silhouettes blurred by my still-reeling mind. They're leaving the room, carrying a body.
A body.
Han!
Panic crashes into me like a wave. My legs move before my mind fully catches up, and I rush after them, following the small crowd as they carry him to another room. But before I can step inside, the door slams shut in my face. The lock clicks into place.
I am left outside, along with a few monks.
I don't know what to do.
I stand there, frozen, my heart pounding against my ribs. The monks steal glances at me, their expressions unreadable, filled with something between suspicion and unease.
What are they thinking?
Maybe they wonder who I am—only Master Long and Han know me. Maybe they're staring at the black liquid staining the left side of my face and body, the remnants of the poison and everything it brought with it.
Or maybe they already know.
Maybe they know I'm the reason Han is like this. Maybe they're silently blaming me, condemning me in their hearts.
I don't care.
Let them judge. Let them whisper.
The only thing that matters right now is Han.
Though it felt like I had spent years lost in the depths of my past life, only minutes have passed in reality.
I pray. To what? To who? I don't even know.
I just want him to be saved.
I don't know how much time drags by—minutes, hours? My knees ache from standing so long. And then, finally—finally—the door creaks open.
Master Long steps out. His eyes land on me, slightly surprised to find me still there, waiting.
I don't even let him breathe before I ask, "How is Han, Master?"
The monks around us lean in slightly, silent, waiting for his response.
Master Long looks at me. Then at them.
Then—he shakes his head.
It's such a simple motion, a small movement, but it destroys me.
My breath catches. My body turns ice cold, all strength seeping from my bones. My legs give way.
I fall.
Before I can hit the ground, Master Long grabs my shoulders, keeping me from collapsing completely.
No. No, no, no.
My lips tremble. The air in my lungs vanishes.
"This… this can't be… No…" I whisper, barely able to push the words out.
Master Long gently pulls me up, arms steady around me, and in that moment—just like that—the dam breaks.
Tears spill from my eyes, hot and unrelenting. My body shakes with sobs so violent I can't stop them even if I tried.
"I'm sorry," I whisper through the gasps, my voice breaking apart with each syllable. "I'm so… so… sorry."
"It's not your fault," Master Long says, his voice calm, steady—so steady it only makes me sob harder.
"It is!" I scream, voice raw. "It is my fault! Han wouldn't have died if he hadn't tried to help me—against myself! He died fighting the monster inside me! It was me! I killed him! I murdered him!"
I don't even recognize my own voice. I sound insane. Like a man unraveling, tearing apart at the seams.
Master Long doesn't flinch. "It was his choice."
His choice?
He leads me outside, sits me on a stone, and rubs slow circles on my back as I continue to cry, my body wracked with the kind of grief that leaves you breathless.
"He chose to help you, Mr. Bennet."
"He shouldn't have," I choke out. "He shouldn't have…"
"I know you think that. But Han didn't." Master Long sighs. "After the first time he helped you meditate, he came to me. He told me what you do. That you've killed. That you live in blood and death."
I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze.
"Yes."
"But you know what else he said?" Master Long pauses, then repeats, "'It's strange. How can a man who kills have a soul like his?'"
I lift my head, vision still blurred with tears.
"That's why I revealed myself when you returned that night," he continues. "Han was right. You do have a good soul, Mr. Bennet. And then, weeks later, you came back to him. You told him your body betrayed you because you wanted to stop killing."
I press my hand to my forehead. My fingers tremble against my skin.
"I shouldn't have come to him…"
Master Long lets out a breath. "This is how the world works, Mr. Bennet. You think you control everything, but in truth, everything moves according to God's plan. Han saw you wanted to change. That was why he wanted to help you."
A bitter laugh escapes me. "So God wanted Han to die for me? That was the plan?" My voice rises, thick with resentment. "Why?! Why not take me instead and let Han live?!"
Master Long's gaze is unreadable. "I don't know, Mr. Bennet. I'm not God."
He exhales, looking up at the sky.
"I could ask the same question. Why Han? He was barely twenty-five. Why not me, a man who has lived over a century? Why him? Why now?" He shakes his head. "God has a strange way of shaping this world. The only answer I can accept is that He still has a purpose for me here."
His eyes find mine again, unwavering.
"And perhaps… Han's purpose was to save you."
My breath stutters.
I sit there, staring at the ground, trying to make sense of it all.
I barely know God.
Barely care.
So to hear Master Long talk about divine plans, about meaning—it's surreal.
"You think I haven't fulfilled my purpose in this life?" I ask after a long silence.
Master Long studies me. "What do you think?"
I open my mouth, but no answer comes.
"I don't even know what my purpose is…"
"Most people don't," he says simply, giving my shoulder a reassuring pat. "Why did you want to stop killing?"
I swallow hard. The answer is immediate. "Because I want to be with my child. And his mother."
Master Long smiles. "Then start there. Do whatever it takes to protect your wife and daughter."
I turn my head slightly to look at him.
Then, slowly, I nod.
"I will," I murmur, voice quieter but filled with conviction. "I definitely will."
"Good." His smile is gentle. "Now go back to them, Mr. Bennet. Your wife is surely worried about you."
-
Still drowning in remorse and regret, I don't even remember how I ended up in a taxi heading home. Master Long's words echoed in my mind, telling me not to blame myself, but my heart refused to accept them.
It felt… strange.
This wasn't the first time I had taken a life. In the past five years alone, I had killed over a dozen people—deliberately, without hesitation. And if I counted the lives I stole as Deathstalker, the number became immeasurable.
Yet, I had never felt anything. No guilt. No sorrow. No remorse.
But this was different.
Why?
Even though the scorpion had been inside me, I hadn't physically killed Han with my own hands. So why did this wound feel so much deeper?
Maybe because I didn't want to kill Han, my mind whispered.
Maybe.
But I had taken unintended lives before—bodyguards who stood in my way, collateral damage in my missions—and I had felt nothing then.
Why was this different?
"We've arrived, sir," the taxi driver says, pulling me from my thoughts.
I nod absently and hand him the fare. Without waiting for the change, I push the door open and step out, my body feeling unnaturally heavy.
The moment I enter the apartment building, Mike, the receptionist, greets me. I ignore him, walking straight to the elevator, my mind still tangled in grief.
Standing in front of my apartment door, I hesitate.
My lips press into a tight line as I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly to suppress my emotions. I can't let Jennifer see me like this.
I don't even want to face her right now.
But if I don't… it will only make her worry more. And she's already worried—I know that much. She must have panicked when she found out I had disappeared from the hospital.
Finally, I step closer, placing my face in front of the iris scanner. The security system beeps, the door unlocks, and I push it open.
Jennifer is sitting on the couch. The moment she sees me, her round, beautiful eyes widen in shock.
"God, Scott!! Thank God you're alright!"
She stares for a second, frozen, before suddenly rushing toward me. Tears brim in her eyes as she throws her arms around me, clutching me so tightly it almost hurts.
"I thought… I thought I lost you," she whispers, her voice breaking as she sobs into my shoulder.
Her warmth, her concern, her love—it shatters every last piece of the wall I had built around my emotions.
Instead of calming her down like I usually do, I hold her tighter. And then—I break.
A sob rips from my chest, raw and uncontainable.
Jennifer stiffens in my embrace, startled. She pulls back slightly, searching my face with wide, worried eyes. "Baby… what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
I try to answer, but my voice is lost in the storm of emotions crashing inside me.
She cups my face, her thumbs brushing against my damp cheeks. "Scott, please… tell me. You're scaring me."
I force myself to swallow down the sobs just long enough to whisper, "Han… Han is dead." My breath hitches. "I… I killed him."
Jennifer's face twists in confusion. "What are you saying?"
I step back, putting some distance between us, shaking my head. "I killed him, Jen. He tried to save me… and I—" My voice cracks, and I can't finish. The grief surges up again, and I break down.
Jennifer doesn't hesitate. She pulls me back into her arms, pressing my head against her shoulder, whispering softly, "Just cry, baby. Let it out. I'm here."
She gently guides me to the couch. I barely register her movements as she sits down and eases me onto her lap. My head rests against her thighs as she strokes my hair, slow and soothing, her touch grounding me.
Her voice is soft, unwavering. "Tell me what happened, love. I'm listening."
For a while, I can't speak.
But as her fingers continue to run through my hair, as her presence calms the storm inside me, I finally find my voice.
"After you left me in the hospital, I got worse. Han called, said Master Long had arrived and wanted to see me immediately. So I snuck out. On the way there, I vomited black. It was venom—scorpion venom. I… I poisoned myself."
I tell her everything.
How Han and I entered my mind. How we fought the giant scorpion. How Han was stung and died. How the scorpion was me.
I tell her about my past. Chien Dai. Quint Rauss. Deathstalker.
I tell her about my victims. The missions. The orders. The executions.
Every secret I had ever buried inside me—I pour it all out.
By the time I finish my confession, the sky outside is red with the evening sun. I had come home just after midnight… meaning I had been speaking for hours.
Jennifer never interrupted me once. Not a single word.
She just sat there, gently running her fingers through my hair.
My tears dried long ago, leaving nothing but exhaustion in their wake. Even her shirt, once damp from my cries, is now dry.
Slowly, I lift my head from her lap and sit up beside her.
Jennifer smiles at me—soft, warm, understanding.
"Feel better, baby?" she asks.
I stare into her eyes.
Back when I was spilling my soul to her, I hadn't cared how she would react. I just needed to release it all.
But now that the weight is gone, a new realization creeps in.
"You… you think I'm crazy, don't you?" I whisper.
Jennifer's smile doesn't waver. She shakes her head. "No."
I frown slightly.
"I believe you," she says. "No matter how illogical it sounds, I believe you. I believe it all happened."
Another wave of emotions surges inside me—but this time, it's different.
I see her now. Really see her.
This woman. This beautiful, incredible woman.
She knows my past. She knows my darkness.
And she's still here.
Tears slip down my cheeks again. Jennifer's smile falters, her eyes filled with concern. "Baby… why are you crying again?" she whispers, reaching out to wipe my tears.
I catch her fingers—the same ones that had soothed me all night. My voice is hoarse, thick with emotion.
"You were right, Jen." My fingers brush against her ever-so-slightly rounded belly. Another tear falls. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve… either of you."
She wipes her own eyes, shaking her head. "Scott—"
I force a smile. "You know everything now. Every disgusting, dark, violent piece of me. And I am dangerous, Jen. I will only bring trouble into your life. Into our child's life. I—"
Jennifer suddenly stands up and walks out of the room.
I watch her go, nodding to myself.
Of course. She needs space. Time to process.
She's probably coming to terms with the fact that she—
I freeze as she returns less than a minute later, holding a beer can.
I blink.
She opens it. Sets it on the table. Then—she takes the can ring and kneels beside me.
She lifts it up.
Her voice is steady. Strong. "Marry me."
@@@@@ Author's Note @@@@@
I thought this would be a short chapter.. Boy, I was wrong LOL
And.. this is the 100th chapter!! Yeey!! I know it is an easy thing to do for other authors to write 1000+ chapters, but for me 100 chapters are already an accomplishment. However, this story is still loooong way to go. I have designed the next 100 chapters in my head already. Just wish me have more time to write.