Beating Heart

"I doubt your intentions. Even now."

Officer D.A commented, looking at the blurry building far by.

Facade remained silent, still wondering if he did the right thing to bring an ex-officer with him.

...

An ex-officer.

She was already expelled from the Forces the moment she snapped at Facade's continuous yet baseless arguments and pointed her gun to his head.

Even when the higher ups warned her not to act on her wits, she ignored them all and persisted on making execution preparations for the Black Beast at once.

But D.A forgot she was ranked as a lower-class officer and got herself into the mess—fully knowing that expulsion means that you're either quarantined for your whole life or...the Forces takes your voice in return of your freedom.

These were some policies given to the candidates before signing their individual contracts.

D.A wasn't sure if everyone was just as insane as she was to agree on something like that.

But again, she needed the influence of the self-proclaimed Forces in order to find her lost brother.

The question was, why did she actually cause a scene even knowing the consequences?

The whole reason was the man she was walking with.

Facade.

She frowned at the thought and again looked at the Black Beast's back, covered with an old, faded cloak.

I can't trust him. Not one bit. Heck! What should I do now? I haven't reached even halfway near the intel and destroyed myself because of that jerk!!

D.A was frustrated, both because of Facade's actions and concisely, her own reactions. Before finding her lost brother, her goal was to reach the ranks of the Forces and try to figure out the system that everybody called just.

Even if they knew it wasn't.

"Hm. I guess I did that." Facade finally realized he was given a task akin to kidnapping.

But when? He can't remember that.

"Did what?"

"Kidnapping your somebody."

D.A's brows twitched at his simplicity. "Don't mention it directly into my face, you jerk!" She snapped.

"You still remember who got you out of the mess?" Facade—being expressionless—strolled through the quiet lane.

Because he was interacting with someone he didn't know, he must remain stoic to avoid developing bonds.

Facade had learned something from his past experiences, that the foundation of strong attachments is often laid by chance encounters.

The more expressionless and compressed you are, the fewer of them you form.

And Facade never wanted to make others wait for him. Not when he had already decided to die afterward.

He was certain no one would truly cheer for his safe return. He was tagged as a criminal, he'd adapted the way of a killer and...many souls were likely waiting for his arrival in hell. 

Living longer only deepened his oppression and it felt more like a sentence to him.

"And you can't remember me saying that I'll repay your favor?"

Facade kept walking, ignoring D.A's rapid footsteps.

I know...

He silently answered her instead.

Facade had only helped a sinking officer from drowning just because her rebellion to the Forces made things easier and he was moved to the inquiry room underground. The same filthy cage he used to smuggle out 'gutter rats'.

And now he —along with an untrustworthy companion—was headed to the final destination. The house where Dan had departed captive 660 behind.

Facade had already considered the fact that the mansion—more specifically Hood—would hunt them down even if they fled for other continents. But he also knew the consequences of his prolonged obedience—how it would eventually ruin Jebreel's life.

What if this was just another test from Hood? And what would it mean for Jebreel—what would it do to him—if he ever uncovered what Facade had kept hidden all this time?"

'First step always needed courage.'

He had heard the saying by many lips, but never once seen anyone live by them.

For Facade, 'courage' was meaningless—not when death no longer scared him. 

There was only one reason to hesitate—one reason to pause before letting his actions finish the sentence.

Jebreel.

He didn't have the courage to exchange his bravery for someone's life.

Not if that someone was Jebreel.

He couldn't bear the thought of watching him beg for death. 

He couldn't

He never could. 

"I think you're out now. You can leave for your own way." Facade finally spoke, jerking his worries on one side.

"I'm not interested in tagging along with you either but, as you've heard me before, I can't do nothing till I return my favor." Flickering lamp took D.A's attention and she halted in between.

"If that's what bothering your soul, then you may leave. I need no favor." Her gaze swiftly shifts to the black figure ahead.

"Humph, as I'm dying to give one—I. Am. Leaving."

But to where?

She had not the faintest idea.

D.A swung her head to each side, lost in thought. With no clear direction, she decided to go right. Facade—who had finally halted—felt a jolt of surprise at where she was headed.

The Forces again?

It was far too easy for Facade to conclude that she had nowhere to go.

Not even her own house.

It would be flagged by Forces the moment they disappeared.

"So, I was thinking—"

You were probably planning.

"As I can't be a waste after you've freed me, I was thinking… just thinking if I could repay you firsthand. Well, I—"

"If you want to join me, you could've said that and could've saved a lot of my time, you know." Facade finished in a single breath, reluctant to have another trouble around his neck.

"Wh—Who said that I'd love to join you in the first place!? I'm returning your favor. You should be grateful to me!"

Huh? Who said that you'd would love to join me? I don't recall saying those words.

Facade inwardly argued—not expecting a corny behavior coming from a rigid woman.

"Well then, how might I know that you are not with the Forces? I want authority here." Facade let out a breath—crossing his arms around his chest as he stared at D.A.

He couldn't afford the weight of unreliable people—not anymore.

D.A didn't respond right away. She took time sifting through the tangle of her thoughts before speaking.

"I... never believed the Forces." She finally broke the silence. "And I don't have anything that proves it."

D.A had never been one of them. For years, all she did was adapt—adapting to their way of hypocrisy, their double standards—all just to chase the answers she desperately needed.

But it was just a vivid dream. She doesn't even know why the Black Beast had helped her in the first place.

Why should anyone help a stranger?

D.A was certain that Facade had his own gains at stake. That's the only possible answer there could be.

"You're a criminal, I don't believe you. Even if you act too good." A sharp wind blew—making her blue scarf ripple with her voice. "And you're not even telling me where he is. Do you even know how many years had it been since I've even seen his face? Can you even imagine how it feels like?" Words barely came out her mouth—each cracking before the other. 

Her tears clung to her lids—hovering, waiting to slide the moment she let herself relaxed.

She didn't realize that some had already slipped past her cheeks. 

It had been long—too long—to remember her brother's voice.

Being the only who still wished for his safe return, she held herself together—just in hope to see his face again one day.

"You... you people don't feel, do you?" She wiped her wet face—fully knowing that it wouldn't change how a criminal thinks. 

Facade's heart skipped the beat at those burdened words.

You don't feel...

Why did everybody think that he didn't feel anything? Just because he was considered inhuman—just because an indestructible veil masked his true existence—did that mean his heart was wrapped in its darkness?

He was still human.

A heart still beat inside his chest. 

He was given emotions, just like everyone else. 

The difference was—he couldn't reveal them.

He was not supposed to feel by heart.

Hate by heart.

Love by heart. 

That was what made him expressionless. 

Facade gulped the emerging feelings of hate—and guilt.

Still trying to adjust to its sting deep inside him. 

"Humph..."

But resolve was what Facade believed in. And his resolve was to take a deep breath whenever he felt lost—letting his exhale carry away the weight inside him.

He couldn't feel but piety for people like him. 

Like D.A.

"Well…"

His gaze suddenly dropped to his feet. "I don't really remember taking whoever you're finding but... at least I could try tracing him down." Behind the reluctant expressions he wore—Facade felt losing touch with who he truly was.

He wasn't even sure if he really meant what he said, or was it just to blend in the current situation.

"What..." D.A's eyes instantly widened by Facade's response. "...are you implying to say?"

She knew she was talking to the Black Beast—the one who had taken many lives with those veiled hands.

And yet...why couldn't she feel fury just by seeing him?

Instead, she felt safe—secure than she ever was in her allocated room.

"You don't expect me to believe you, do you?" But she wasn't fool enough to not inquire his motives.

"No." Facade got a faded hint of confusion just by her tone. "Just follow your heart. That's what I'm saying." He tightened his lips, leaving D.A holding the fragile strings of her will.

It was the first time he had advised someone—still hoping, somehow, it could ease the lingering ache in her heart. 

But D.A's emotions struck hard. She stood frozen—trying to figure out what Facade really wanted.

He had kidnapped Basili and now, he was offering her a helping hand.

It made no sense. 

Yet his words did anchor something inside D.A—enough to make a clear decision.

In the end—she chose to follow Facade. 

They both walked silently in shadows, hiding at some point and rushing at some—finally reaching a soundless lane.

D.A could barely witness any animal walking around. 

Instead of trolling around, she looked up at an old cottage ahead—damaged edges gleaming under the faint moonlight.

"Where are we?" D.A keenly observed her surroundings. For instance, there was a speck of doubt regarding Facade's intention.

But she immediately reverted her thoughts.

If he wanted to kill me, I would be dead. 

Facade didn't respond back—his eyes continuously staring at the distorted waves forming before him.

His chest tightened at every phase. Excitement rushed at each passing wave fronts. 

Finally! I'm finally here!

His heart beat like never before. He was only one step away from achieving what he longed for.

Not days, not months.

But years—he waited for years just to witness the moment. 

Keeping his emotions in check, he felt his skin prickle.

A subtle tremble took over him—his body shaking against the ground.

Almost because of fear.

Fear of not finding Jebreel after all he went through.

Even being inches away from Facade, D.A listened to the silence words his motions were giving—not daring to interrupt the moment. 

"I hope its the one." Facade mumbled under his breath.

D.A wasn't able to catch his low voice, instead her focus diverted to rub her hands from the cold.

Facade had reached the spot—one he had discovered through legal properties, Book 4, buried deep within mansion's restricted library.

It took him effort just to find the active and non-active assets used by the members. Relating to information's validity which he got from his three days work, Facade wasn't sure if cottage was the right place to find his cousin.

However, he was certainly sure of where Jebreel was—somewhere within that zone.

Somewhere there.

Facade clenched his teeth before proceeding inside—Miss D.A following him in silence. 

"Finally..."

He was half relieved that it was over. His worries would vanish tonight.

Its over.

Only Facade knew how much he struggled to create a chance—just to move Jebreel outside the mansion's wall. 

EAT—M: 'Erase All Traitors' was something that Facade had proposed to Hood after sensing slight corruptions inside the mansion—even though he knew that those people were as helpless as he was.

They were simply trying to create an opportunity to save their captives' live.

In his early years, Facade wondered if he could, somehow, help those downtrodden people.

Back then, he couldn't have dared to move a limb without Hood's permission.

He understood he was being a buffoon—doing what he says without raising a single question.

And eventually, he got sick of seeing blood on his hands, recalling the same screams.

The one that could be never heard again.

It was when he decided to throw his life on stall, befriending with his death—despite knowing the fact that it can't come near him even if he wanted its attendance.

But still, he found a way to save those destined to die inside the mansion.

Like 'Gutter Rats', like other unfortunate victims before them, Facade had kept them all under his track—luring them into his hideout before they could end up being shackled to their deaths.

Evasion of this outcome needed Facade to mingle with the council members— making them leave the evacuation tasks.

And to avoid being spotted himself, he never went by the same method twice.

He would create many paths and picked the one that fits best.

EAR—'Erase All Royalties', was the plan that Hood gave to those whom he thought were loyal.

With each member handling the task of destroying one family at a time—'Mundand Family' was left in Facade's care.

After the members were dismissed, Facade had informed Hood about the disturbances inside their walls—proposing another plan to overcome it.

EAT—M

'M' stood for money. Only those who have their eyes on the vault's money and acting just for it, were to be eradicated.

Facade took the permit to act on his own—swearing an oath in return for his devotion to Hood. It was a ritual, common among all societies, performed by those granted the right to act on their own will.

But he didn't know what happens to those who breaks them.

Facade—who had already earned his name—had then gathered all six societies to the main hallway, announcing an immediate feast for the succession of 'EAR'.

The information was false, of course, solely fabricated to provoke huge swarm into the hallway. 

Facade knew that ornate fountains at both ends weren't just embellishments—they concealed access to mansion's vault.

No one would reach them for leisure, except those who knew their value.

Facade's plan was simple. To burst those who try to evade their limits. 

He himself wasn't aware of that information—recently coming over it after reviewing the pages of restricted books.

He could have lured the suspicious people out before reporting them to authority but too much interference would only draw unwanted attention to him. 

And before sharing an undercover plan with Hood, one persistent thought troubled him—over and over again. 

He had already seen many rooms, visited many underground routes, and even tried to unlock the doors which he had never grabbed before. But… what if those hostages which he kept searching for on lavish marblesHe had already seen many rooms, visited many underground routes, and even tried to unlock the doors which he had never grabbed before. But… what if those hostages which he constantly try to find—on lavish marbles—were actually placed inside the safest place of all?

The vault.

And that very thought made him to present 'EAT—M' in the first place.

Facade was right.

Jebreel was inside the vault. 

After confirming his doubt, he raised the issue in the community hall—declaring that he would continue his loyalty only when they depart Jebreel elsewhere.

Somewhere safe.

As the fountains were supposed to be blasted the moment the hypocrites join their hands, Facade presented his concern for his blind cousin.

The matter gradually reached Hood—after brief discussion—agreed to move Jebreel outside the mansion's wall.

'Why not keep him inside?' Most of the members had cross-questioned Hood's decision, but he dismissed all of them—unyielding in his stance.

Hood knew exactly who Facade was.

A spy.

The Mansion's shadow.

And… the 'Black Beast'.

Facade knew what is to know about the mansion and exposing Jebreel by making him walk above the grounds? That would only invite danger.

Hood understood what he was holding—a double-edged sword—with no sheath to protect his bare hands.

Even a little hesitation, and it could turn... bleeding him instead.