What do we do? Do we follow him?
Maurice’s figure disappeared into the distance in a few strides, his tall silhouette cutting through the smoke-filled air. No one could predict his fate. The Glovers family’s men hesitated, torn between staying and pursuing him.
After a moment, one of Maurice’s trusted aides spoke, gritting his teeth. “He’s walking into his own death! Mr. Glovers told us to leave, and we can’t disobey him, but in his current state… it’ll be no different.”
“You guys, come with me! We’ll follow him, but keep it quiet. Don’t let him notice us.”
The four men nodded and quickly followed, but Maurice was too fast. In a blink, he vanished.
The sensation of being controlled was strange. Maurice retained a sliver of clarity, but it was tenuous. Even his iron resolve wouldn't last long; he would soon fall completely under the creature's influence.
Oddly, Maurice wasn't afraid. His first thought was, “Is this what Felicia endures?” The helplessness of his own body acting as a puppet, his will fighting a losing battle, his limbs disobeying him—the terror of losing control while being forced to do things he didn't want—was this what she had gone through? He felt oddly relieved. At least this time, he spared her.
A faint smile crept onto Maurice’s lips, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. But it was short-lived, swallowed by pain and tension. This self-sacrifice, this reckless devotion, felt foolish. He wondered if Felicia would be touched, or would she give him her usual cold, detached look and ask, “Why are you meddling in my business?” He guessed it would be the latter.
That thought was interrupted by a sharp, stabbing pain—like an axe splitting his skull. The searing agony hit his temples, throbbing violently. In the midst of the excruciating pain, the fragile shred of clarity Maurice…
The sound of the bronze bell grew louder, accompanied by a hoarse voice, “Come here! Hurry up, Felicia! Don’t defy me!” Maurice’s eyelashes fluttered, his gaze fell slightly, but his steps quickened, driven by the controlling force.
Meanwhile, in the SUV slowing at the mountain base, the robed figure held the bronze bell, murmuring chants. Johanna, sitting beside him, listened intently. As the words became clear, unease flickered in her eyes. She had observed: whenever the robed figure shook the bell, the venomous creature awakened, executing commands and directly controlling the person infected with the Heart Eater—in this case, Felicia. The robed figure and Pete aimed to capture Felicia and use the creature to control her, planting a command to assassinate Stephan.
Johanna lowered her head, her fingers clenching. How would this suit her vengeance?