Missions (Part 11)

The Life of Aurelius Valemont: Missions (Part 11)

"WHY?! WHY?!" I snapped, voice cracking under the pressure of my own unraveling thoughts. My fists clenched as the memory of Chan-Woo Gong echoed back.

He was right.

He said this would happen. That Father would eventually force me to eliminate the people I loved. That he'd weaponize them against me. That I'd become a monster just like him.

Did I already?

I swallowed the bile in my throat as I looked into Father's eyes—those same cold, deep ocean-blue eyes that mirrored my own. Empty. Calculating. Void of empathy.

Matthew stood by the door, pale and trembling. The man who was always stone-faced, emotionless in duty, now staggered like a crumbling statue. His eyes flicked between me and the files on the floor, and then to Yumi's name.

His love. His only light.

Then Father set his pen down with a quiet click. A sound that felt louder than a gunshot.

"Well," he said casually, leaning back, "if you don't want to do it... maybe I should kill Luciana now?"

I froze.

"Or," he continued, eyes gleaming with twisted delight, "should I fuck her first? Torture her for the rest of her life? Or maybe…" He smiled, "I'll just kill you instead."

I couldn't breathe.

The heat in my chest surged like wildfire. My vision blurred.

I stood. "Then kill me!" I shouted. "I'd rather die than see them die because of you!"

He laughed—soft, slow, poisonous. "Is that so? That would be pathetic of you, son."

Son?

That word... burned.

Since when? Since when did he ever treat me like a son? He trained me like a weapon since I was fourteen. Before that, I was invisible—worthless. Not until he saw potential. Not until he saw a killer.

My legs trembled.

I wanted to lunge at him. To tear him apart. But I didn't. Not because I was afraid. Not because I lacked the strength.

Because if I made one wrong move, he'd destroy the entire estate. Everyone would die. The maids. The guards. The cooks. Even the gardeners. Innocent people.

I've obeyed all his orders to protect them. But now... now what?

I turned my burning gaze back to him. He smirked.

"So… what's your decision?" he asked mockingly. "Want me to sweeten the deal? I could kill them all myself. Slowly. Painfully. One by one. Or maybe I should just burn the whole estate down while you watch?"

My mind swirled. What is wrong with him?

Why?

I've done everything he asked. Every mission. Every kill. Every lie. For them.

And now—he's using them as leverage.

What now?

I took a deep breath. My chest was tight. My thoughts were clawing at the inside of my skull. Then Father added, his voice almost playful:

"So… just kill those three, or the entire estate. Be a hero, or a villain."

Hero? Villain?

What kind of twisted game was this?

Was he saying… I should be like him?

My voice trembled. I could barely breathe, but I had to speak.

"Father… why are you giving me this mission now? What's the point if they'll die? What do you gain from this?"

He turned to me slowly, his stare so cold it felt like the entire estate could freeze from his aura alone.

"Well," he said with eerie calm, "those three saw what I did while you were away on your last mission."

What...?

That was it? Because they saw something?

"What do you mean? What did they see?"

His eyes narrowed.

"V.A.R.A.K. Those three… especially Philip Langford—he used to work under me. I fired him years ago. But he remembered. They saw the documents. The files. Everything I planned for the future of this world."

The future?

What was he planning?

My head spun. Just because they knew? That was enough to justify this?

"Why me?" I asked. "Why did you choose me?"

He smirked, that same sickening smirk he always wore when he knew he was in control.

"I want you to become like me. Make me proud, son."

That word again. Son.

I clenched my fist so hard I felt my nails dig into my palm. Across the room, Matthew did the same—jaw tight, eyes burning—but neither of us could move.

"After everything I've done… this is how you repay me?" I whispered. "And what if I refuse? Will you really burn the estate down?"

I forced a broken smirk.

But his was wider.

"Oh, of course I won't," he said. "But I can have everyone inside tortured or killed. One word from me is all it takes. My men are ready. You won't even have to raise a finger. Just sit back and watch."

Watch... like a puppet.

"So," I said numbly, "just three lives… or the entire estate?"

He nodded, almost cheerfully.

"Yes. Three lives. Or everyone here. Your half-siblings, your stepmothers... especially Luciana. And of course, those three."

My ears rang.

I couldn't hear. I couldn't breathe. The walls spun around me. A scream stuck in my throat.

No. No no no—

I broke into a full-blown panic attack.

Matthew rushed forward, gripping my arms. His voice was far away, like I was underwater. My chest tightened further, as if my ribs were being crushed from inside.

Then—

"So," Father said coldly, "what is your final decision, son? Accept, and I'll give you half the estate's authority. And half of VARAK."

Matthew was shaking now. Trying not to bare his teeth. Holding back something animal inside.

Authority? Power? I don't want it. I never did.

All I ever wanted… was for them to be safe.

If I chose those three… everyone else would live. Right?

My mind was a storm. Confusion. Rage. Terror. Pain. Despair. Everything.

Then finally—I exhaled.

My hands still trembling, I stood.

SLAM

I slammed my palm onto the desk.

"Fine," I said.

"I'll do it."

My voice cracked. It wasn't firm. It wasn't brave. It was hollow.

Matthew turned to me—betrayed.

Father's smile widened. He opened a drawer and pulled out a dagger. Expensive. Hand-crafted. Gleaming with sharp edges like death itself.

"Use this," he said. "Eliminate them. Make it clean."

He handed it to me. My fingers trembled as I took it.

"I want to watch my son grow," he said, standing. "I'm coming with you."

I stared down at the blade.

Maybe… maybe if I killed him right here, right now… it would end everything. Maybe it would save everyone.

I turned the dagger in my hand. Shifted my weight. And lunged.

Fast.

He dodged.

Smirked.

"Not bad," he said. "But not good enough. You can't do that to me, son."

He leaned closer.

"Use that for your mission, alright?"

His smile wasn't human.

It was monstrous.

The three of us—Father, Matthew, and I—walked toward the East Wing of the estate, where the grand library stood. That's where they were. The ones I was supposed to kill.

I gripped the dagger tightly. Its ornate hilt bit into my palm, and Matthew, trailing behind me, cast me a look filled with betrayal.

I'm sorry, Matthew... I'm sorry, everyone. Either three lives or the entire estate... That would include you too, wouldn't it, if you stood with them?

I'm sorry, Yumi... Peter... and especially you, Philip—my brother, my comrade. I'm really sorry.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but Father walked forward, unfazed, cold as ice. The servants we passed all immediately dropped to their knees, foreheads to the floor. They trembled in silence, as if they worshipped him—or feared what he might do if they made a mistake.

Matthew looked like he wanted to pounce, to kill either me or Father. But he didn't. He couldn't. He could never bare his fangs at his master. Just like me.

As we arrived at the library, I reached out and pushed open the door with a trembling hand, still clutching the dagger. My heart thundered.

Luciana was the first to greet me. She rushed over and hugged me with a warm smile. "My little knight!" she said gently. Then she noticed Father behind me. Her smile faltered. "What... what is he doing here?" Her voice quivered.

Philip, lounging on the sofa with his laptop, paused his furious typing and looked up sharply. Yumi, who had been humming while helping Peter arrange books on the shelves, froze. All eyes turned to us.

Their smiles vanished. Their bodies stiffened. Fear spread through the room like poison.

"Young Master Aurelius… Master Victor?" Yumi's voice cracked, filled with dread. Matthew avoided her gaze, jaw clenched.

Philip sat up straight, tension in every muscle. "Bro," he said warily, "what's going on? Why did you bring him here?" He swallowed, fear flickering in his eyes.

Peter dropped the book he was holding. It hit the floor with a dull thud. His body shook. "Master…" he whispered.

They all bowed instinctively, as if even eye contact would offend my father. And Father—he just smirked.

With the arrogance of a man who owned every soul in this estate, he strode over and dropped himself on the leather sofa like it was his throne. He leaned back and crossed one leg casually.

"Go on," he said with a smile. "Let me watch my son grow."

I turned to them. They were my friends. My family. My heartbeat quickened. My vision blurred from tears. I gripped the dagger even harder. My knuckles turned white.

"Bro?" Philip asked, stepping forward slowly. He set his laptop down. "Why… why are you holding a dagger?"

I couldn't answer. My throat was tight, like I was choking on air.

Suddenly, Father lifted a hand and signaled Luciana. "Come here," he said with a sickening calmness. "Sit beside me."

She hesitated but obeyed, taking slow steps toward him. She sat beside him, rigid, her eyes not meeting mine.

"Watch, Luciana," Father whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder with mock affection. "Watch my last lucky wife." His smirk widened as he leaned closer to her.

I turned to face the others. They were waiting. Matthew shook his head desperately behind them, silently pleading with me not to do it. His eyes were wide. He knew I couldn't.

But I had to.

Or did I?

Tears spilled freely from my eyes as I took a shaky step forward. My hand trembled violently. The dagger was slippery with sweat. My legs felt like they might collapse beneath me.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered.

Philip's eyes widened.

Yumi gasped, hand over her mouth.

Peter backed away in fear.

And Father? He leaned forward, watching me with that same cold pride.

So this is what it feels like, I thought, to stand at the edge of hell—holding the blade that decides who burns.

I took a slow step forward, gripping the dagger tight, ready to lunge. But before I could, Matthew rushed in front of Yumi, shielding her with his body.

"Snap out of it, Young Master!" he yelled, voice cracking, teeth bared.

I froze. My heart thudded like thunder in my ears. I turned to Father. He leaned back on the sofa, lips curling into a smirk. I think he mumbled, "Interesting."

I turned again. Matthew held Yumi tightly in his arms, trembling but firm. "Young Master, Aurelius!" he called again. "Don't do this!"

Tears blurred my vision. My hand shook. Then Father spoke, calm and cruel:

"Go on. You can do this."

Yumi screamed, voice raw, desperate. "Lady Anastasia—your mother—she would never want this!"

I broke. The dam of my heart shattered. I clenched my jaw and sprinted forward, blade trembling in my grip. Matthew stayed in front of Yumi, defiant.

"Matthew… get out of the way. I need to finish this."

"No!" he shouted. "Wake up! Please!"

Behind them, Peter was shaking, pale, nearly fainting. Philip helped him up, shielding him. Luciana sobbed in Father's arms.

I hesitated.

Father's face shifted—his smirk gone. His eyes narrowed. A silent order.

I turned back. "Please... Matthew. I'm sorry."

He tightened his hold on Yumi.

And I lost it.

I tore Yumi from his grasp and drove the dagger in—again, and again. My screams blended with hers. Blood spilled onto my hands. My soul broke with every strike.

Matthew roared, pure pain in his voice, and tackled me to the floor. He struck me, fists wild, heart torn. I didn't fight back. Not at first. I let him hit me, let the guilt burn me.

"You… HOW DARE YOU!"

We fought. I fought gently. But he didn't hold back. He gave everything he had. For her.

He was strong—too strong. But I had training. And guilt. And despair.

I slashed his chest. Blood poured from his mouth, but he didn't stop. Not until his final breath.

"I wish... one day... you'll realize what you did... Young Master…"

Then he collapsed beside her body.

Gone.

I couldn't breathe.

Philip stood frozen near the door. Peter stood in front of him, trying to protect him.

"Philip! Run!" Peter shouted, pushing him away.

Then he looked at me, tears in his eyes. He didn't even fight. Just closed his eyes and whispered:

"Thank you for the memories, Young Master."

I choked on the pain. I gripped the dagger and ended his life.

Luciana sobbed in silence, trapped in Father's grasp. Blood soaked the library. Matthew. Yumi. Peter.

Only Philip escaped.

I turned to Father. His face showed nothing but quiet disappointment.

"You disappoint me, son. But… you did well," he said calmly. "Find him. That brat knows how to survive."

I nodded. "Yes, Father."

My voice was dead. My eyes hollow. Luciana trembled beside him as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Inside me, only one voice remained.

Run, Philip. Don't come back. Please. Survive.

I dropped the dagger and collapsed to my knees, screaming until my voice cracked and died.

Father walked toward the door, glancing back. "Don't be overdramatic, son. Let's go."

He left, dragging Luciana with him.

I stared at the bodies.

No tears. No breath.

Just silence.

I picked up the dagger. Pointed it to myself.

But I remembered Luciana. Still in Father's hands. Still not safe.

I lowered it.

Stood up.

Followed him.

Empty. Cold. Silent.

Aurelius Caelan Valemont.

Ruthless.

Merciless.

Gone.

End of chapter 60.