Chapter 197: Out of Danger, Oscar's Bloody Terror

Oscar held Hannah close. In the large, dilapidated warehouse, the man Hannah had kicked lay writhing on the floor; the other remained frozen, paralyzed with fear. Janet stood petrified, staring incredulously at Oscar's unexpected arrival. In that moment, his focus was solely on Hannah. He removed his white shirt and draped it over her naked body, the blood staining the fabric a crimson red. His face was impassive, yet terrifying.

He carefully buttoned the shirt, wrapping her in its protective embrace. Hannah watched, noticing the gentleness of his movements contrasting sharply with the chilling coldness of his expression. He looked utterly grim. After maintaining composure all night, she finally broke down. Though only superficially injured and unharmed, the sight of Oscar, the warmth of his presence, overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face.

"Shh. Don't cry," Oscar murmured, his voice low and controlled. He gently wiped away her tears with his slender fingers. "I'll protect you," he said.

Hannah wept harder, the reality of his protection—a sensation utterly foreign to her life—washing over her. She'd never imagined being touched, let alone protected, by a man. Through her tear-filled eyes, she saw the indifference etched on his face.

"Thomas," he said, his lips barely moving. Only then did Hannah notice Thomas standing nearby, impassive and numb. He silently handed Oscar a black pistol.

Janet, having just breathed a sigh of relief, now felt a fresh wave of terror. She saw the hostility and ferocity blazing in Oscar's eyes.

"Oscar..." Hannah whispered anxiously.

"Look away, good girl," he replied, his voice still soft, yet laced with steel.

"No!" Hannah cried, shaking her head vehemently. "No! Northfield is a country governed by law. You can't kill people here!" She clung to his clothes, desperately trying to prevent him from committing a crime on her behalf.

Oscar smiled gently, seeing her distress. "That's the world you know," he said, "the world under the rule of law." But in his eyes, that world ceased to exist.

He covered her eyes with his hand. A gunshot echoed through the warehouse. Hannah felt the recoil through Oscar's arm. A scream pierced the silence.

Hannah trembled, wanting desperately to see, but Oscar held her tight, kissing her softly. Her heart pounded, and she surrendered to the moment.

He released her, a tender look in his eyes at odds with his actions. Hannah stared at him, a stranger in a familiar guise.

"You don't know anything. I did it all," Oscar said, his deep voice assuming complete responsibility, shielding her from the weight of it all. But that wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want him to exclude her; she only wanted his safety.

Tears streamed down her face. She held him close, unaware that her anxiety had driven her nails into his flesh. He showed no sign of pain.

Oscar lifted her into his arms; she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she saw them: the warehouse was swarming with men in black suits, their presence radiating power and menace. No wonder Janet's men hadn't resisted; resistance was futile.

Oscar stood over the wounded man, his lower body soaked in blood. "Did you touch her?" he asked.

The man, wracked with pain, might not have heard.

"That will determine if your body is left intact," Oscar stated coldly, devoid of emotion.

The man continued to writhe. Oscar regarded him indifferently. "Forget it. It doesn't matter," he said, and winked.

Two men in black suits swiftly lifted and dragged the man from the warehouse. Blood stained the floor, a gruesome spectacle ignored by the onlookers. The screams ceased abruptly.

Hannah had no idea where the man was being taken, nor was she sure what Oscar's words implied, but she knew this was a side of Oscar she'd never witnessed before.

She fought to regain control, reminding herself not to panic. When she was nearly attacked, she'd fantasized about killing Janet and her assailants, tearing them apart. She would have shot them without hesitation. Oscar had avenged her, fulfilled her dark desires. Yet, she still trembled with fear.

She had always believed the criminal underworld to be as treacherous and deceitful as Charles, a realm of betrayal and cruelty—a cruelty that had cost her life. But Oscar's violence held a different, more primal quality. Here, cruelty and violence seemed somehow justified; a chilling revelation in a world that appeared peaceful and bright.