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Chapter 9 : The Black Angel Organization!
The moment Anna hid there, her claustrophobia woke up. Under the bed it was pitch dark, and the room—which relied solely on the faint moonlight to pierce its gloom—was unable to ease the fear rising inside her.
She remained curled up, clutching her head and trembling. But without realizing it, she lost consciousness shortly after. She didn't wake up until midday the next day. She crawled out of her hiding place weakly, with a light headache. She found the room wide open, the wardrobe likewise—both flung completely ajar. Clothes were thrown everywhere, the chair was smashed on the floor. The entire room had been utterly trashed!
"What happened here?" Anna thought, staring in astonishment at her once tidy bedroom that had become total chaos.
She stepped over the scattered items on the floor and left the room.
The instant she passed through the partially broken door of her bedroom, a strange, overpowering smell hit her nose. Flies filled the air; she could hear their annoying buzzing. Then she descended the stairs—now covered with dried red stains left by several shoes.
When she reached the bottom, she saw a sight that would remain seared into her mind for the rest of her life. A sight that caused her to lose the ability to speak for more than a year.
The most fitting description for that scene was: **a complete massacre**.
Amid the wreckage of broken furniture, her stepmother lay in the middle of the main room—naked, drowning in her own blood like a fly fallen into oil. Her face bore an expression of utter misery and agony, a clear testament to the torture she had endured before drawing her final breath.
But what made Anna collapse was the sight of her father's severed head, detached from his stabbed, blood-soaked body that lay in a pool of crimson. His face was covered in deep slashes from a sharp weapon, large gashes everywhere; both eye sockets were bright scarlet, filled with blood. It was obvious he had suffered unimaginable torment in his final moments—his killer had clearly made him endure slow, deliberate agony before finishing him.
The moment Anna's eyes fell on his corpse, she dropped to the floor and began screaming and crying at the top of her lungs. Her world turned black in an instant. She couldn't comprehend what was in front of her. *This is a dream, right? This isn't real?* She screamed hysterically, stumbling backward several steps, clutching the wall to keep from falling. She started slapping her own face and banging her head against the wall, desperately trying to wake up from this nightmare—but nothing worked. Everything in front of her was real.
Yet reality was crueler still. Blood dripped from her forehead; waves of pain exploded in her skull. Tears and mucus streamed from her eyes and nose as she screamed with all her strength. Her vision darkened in a flash, and she fainted amid her own hysterical shrieks.
She had no idea how much time passed while she lay like that. When she finally awoke, she found herself on a small wooden bed inside a wooden house, a cool compress on her forehead to reduce the fever.
This place was completely unfamiliar. She propped herself up halfway, trying to understand where she was. But the only thing that flooded back into her mind were those hellish memories of that blood-soaked scene.
"Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—"
Anna clutched her head again and collapsed back onto the bed, sobbing. Even her screams seemed to echo only inside her own skull—like a bell tolling pain and reminding her of what had happened to her father.
First her mother, whom she had never seen… and now her father—the best thing in her life, her only warm embrace.
She couldn't bear it anymore. She simply couldn't endure this!
Tears poured from her eyes like a waterfall as she gripped her head. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. That only deepened her pain and sorrow.
After some time spent crying, she surrendered to sleep once more. Her eyes were swollen, her usually neat brown hair was disheveled—some strands stuck to her tear-soaked face. She looked truly pitiable.
When she woke again, evening had fallen. Reddish-orange rays of sunset streamed through the window into the small wooden room. The first thing she saw was a young man who could only be described as extraordinarily handsome. To her, he looked like a prince from the fairy tales her father used to tell her before bedtime when she was little. His hair was white, falling just below his shoulders; his unique crimson eyes were unforgettable to anyone who saw them. His sharp nose bridge, his gentle smiling expression—in that moment, he seemed to her like an angel descended to rescue her from her misery and despair!
The tender look he gave her was something she had only ever seen from one person—her father. His image and smile flashed in her mind again. And so, the moment she saw this young man, all she wanted to do was cry once more…
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Back to Damian—he was still gazing at Anna with a calm expression. His hand continued to drip blood onto the floor, yet he paid it no attention whatsoever.
"Trade your life for this information. Is it really worth your life?" Damian asked in his quiet voice, lifting her bruised chin from the ground so she faced him. He looked into her swollen eyes—one of them almost completely shut.
"I… don't know anything," Anna spoke with difficulty. "I was just… following the organization's orders… only…" She stared at the calm expression on Damian's face. She truly knew nothing about this person. She had simply received the mission and wanted to complete it. After all, it had been classified as a low-grade copper-rank task—nothing more!
"What organization is this? And who posted this mission?" Damian asked in a cold voice.
"I'm really just… *cough cough cough*… a low-ranking member, copper rank… *cough cough*…" Anna spoke in a voice full of fear as she forced out the information. The calm expression and icy gaze of the man in front of her made her tremble from deep inside. If it had been anyone else, she might have spilled everything she knew about the organization—but not with him. All she would give him were pieces of publicly known information, a mix of truth and lies—even she wasn't sure which parts were accurate.
"So you're saying there's an organization behind the attempt on my life, and client identities remain secret. Interesting… very interesting. I want to hear more about them," Damian said, giving a faint smile that showed he was genuinely intrigued.
*cough cough* Anna coughed up some blood while trying to speak, but Damian didn't seem to care. "I'm just a low-ranking copper member… The silver and gold ranks sit at the top of the pyramid… There are also rumors of another group—the real power of the organization. They say those people possess supernatural abilities… but it's only rumors," Anna spoke, ignoring the blood trickling from the corners of her mouth, hoping this would be enough to let her live. It was a gamble—her survival depended entirely on this man's whim.
Damian looked at her with an empty expression and cold eyes, silently urging her to continue. Anna bit her lip and went on: "The organization is called Black Angel. Its influence stretches across the entire country and even beyond. They're like a cancer that has infiltrated every level of society. They can be considered the true rulers of the underworld across the whole continent. Among their members are politicians and prominent families. They've even eliminated numerous high-profile figures without the world ever knowing."
Damian ignored some of the slurred words. *Their influence is this vast?! And supernatural powers? Could such a thing really exist?* he thought while observing Anna's pitiful expression. Without hesitation he asked, "Are these supernatural powers real?"
He didn't care what he was asking. In his eyes, Anna had long been a walking corpse. Killing her was only a matter of time. The talk of mercy was merely classic psychological bait—giving the drowning person a thread of false hope. The entire conversation was just a game.
She hesitated for a moment before answering: "I've never personally witnessed anything like that… *cough cough*…" She coughed up a little more blood, paused, clenched her broken teeth, and continued: "But those in the gold rank are said to possess supernatural abilities. Some are rumored to be stronger than great knights."
Damian touched his chin, appearing deep in thought. *If that's the case, this organization is enormous. Its foundation is shrouded in mystery, even most of its members don't know the full truth. Of course, some of what she said could be false—but fabricating such a detailed lie so quickly isn't easy. I shouldn't act rashly. I need to take precautions against them.*
"So do you know who killed my family? I assume your organization is behind that mission as well. Wouldn't you agree?" Damian posed another question.
Anna's eyes widened slightly; her blood-stained lips trembled. She tried to swallow the bitter lump in her throat before replying weakly: "The mission I was assigned was… only to eliminate you. Nothing about your family was mentioned in my file… but it's possible the person who killed your family is the same one who posted your elimination order."
A heavy silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of blood dripping from Damian's hand onto the wooden floor. His eyes seemed lost in a dark sea of memories.
"Eliminate me, then?" Damian murmured. He leaned down until his face was level with hers—so close she could feel his breath. "You've given me valuable information, Anna… or whatever your real name is…" That thought made him reflect: *Copper, silver, gold ranks… and perhaps even people with supernatural powers. You've just made the world a lot more interesting for me.
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