[RECOMMEND TO READ IT AFTER—
Chapter 15: I have a condition]
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When Fredrick from the Department of CPUS-Intelligence Arms arrived to meet Kami, they had something important to discuss about.
Meanwhile, Manabu and the others waited outside for Leon. Fredrick turned serious immediately as Manabu left the room.
He placed several photographs in front of Kami and requested Leon to take a look. "Take a look. This is the picture of Morgan's 9-year-old daughter, Misha's dead body."
Misha was slaughtered by Vincin himself as an act of revenge because Morgan arrested his younger brother.
Fredrick describes:
"Vincin took a sharp butchering knife and butchered the girl when she was conscious—she was alive, with no hope of escape. Her mouth wasn't bound, so she could scream; her hands were tied, but not with any pillar or chair, but she was crawling on the ground, trying to crawl away from him. She screamed in agony as Vincin butchered each part of her body; he butchered her even after she was dead. He snapped photos of her dead body, and her body bore at least twenty-nine cuts; she died on the sixteenth slash; yet Vincin wasn't satisfied; he kept butchering her, ripping her apart totally. In the end, Vincin severed her head from the body and discarded it with the photos in front of Morgan's house and disappeared."
Leon's reaction was one of imbalance; he recalled the incident when Morgan cried like a madman for her daughter. He took a deep, shaky breath. He looked like he was on the verge of fainting.
Fredrick asked if he was feeling uncomfortable, but Leon was alright—he said...
Fredrick then revealed more pictures, spreading them on the table... "Last night, Vincin was slaughtered in the same way he slaughtered Morgan's daughter. Someone used the exactly same-looking butcher knife to kill him and his friend."
Fredrick had a theory he was unsure about.The truth is, they had just tracked Vincin's location days ago, a secret operation that nobody else knew about. The murder was not just a random act; Fredrick suspected Morgan may have been involved, —"Since Morgan has every reason to want Vincin dead, and what's more interesting is that Vincin's murder weapon points straight back to Morgan—the butcher knife! The knife used is the same kind that Vincin used to kill his daughter. It's possible that someone—from our investigation team—exposed Vincin's location to him, and he avenged her daughter! What else could be the answer?"
Kami raised a hand to her chin, thinking deeply. "Who? Who could have leaked that information? And why wasn't I informed about Vincin earlier?"
Fredrick's response was simple—"It was a secret." He emphasized that they had been keeping the details confidential, hoping to announce them at the right time, but now they were unsure who had leaked the information.
He then turned to Leon. "Do you know who might have done this?"But Leon is unfazed as always; Fredrick puts a grim smile on his lips.
But Leon said, "I suspect Morgan right now, but we have no proof against him. Whether he did it or not, we must treat him like a suspect..."
Fredrick smirked and said that—"Morgan has been placed in special custody. We are still investigating the case. But to be fair, even if Morgan did carry out the murder, I have no issue with it. Vincin deserved it, but unfortunately, as an investigation must take action unwillingly."
Fredrick then packed up the documents and returned them to his briefcase.
Kami, still lost in thought, wondered aloud, "How could such sensitive information reach Morgan?"
Fredrick informed them that they have been investigating the whole department, "We've had custody of about twenty investigators, but so far, no evidence or clues have surfaced. However, recently, we found someone who claims to have witnessed the murder last night. His name is Shaun, and he's an odd guy."
Leon and Kami both turned their attention to Fredrick. "Shaun was found unconscious near the murder scene. He was about two houses away from the location when the police found him early in the morning. His mental state was far from stable."
Shaun's family claimed he had never acted this way before. It seemed that whatever he saw that night had traumatized him, causing a break in his mental state.
The police tried to interrogate him, asking who was the person he saw last night, but Shaun interrupted, "Not a person... not a person... A creature, a nightmarish face. It was 'Lam' the reaper. He held two butchering knives, and it cut through them right in front of his eyes. Each slash dug into their bones and flesh, and the blood splattered all over the reaper. They screamed, but nobody was there to help. Only I; a terrified human being cannot fight a reaper. Then the creature turned; he stared at me, and I saw its face—no mouth, just hollowwhite eyes, just the whole pupils. Two horns sprouted from its forehead. Then, it reached out from its cloak—dozens of hands, like the hands of death. I could hardly comprehend it. I didn't want to see it, and then suddenly I... I fell unconscious on the ground."
The police were bewildered. No one believed him; they all thought he was mentally disturbed. But Shaun insisted he was not mad.
Fredrick seemed uncertain whether Shaun had truly seen the angel of death or if it was just a hallucination, a psychological manifestation caused by fear, making us hallucinate things, like a person will look like a different person...
It remained a mystery. 'Perhaps that's destiny."
As Leon escorted them out to drop Manabu and others back to their home. While driving his car, his mind began to relive the memories of Misha—her innocent smile, her laughter, and that day at the funeral; Morgan's screams, crying on her grave.
It had been a year since her death.—On the night of her 9th birthday, she was kidnapped, and later her headless body was found floating in the water. Misha had been such a sweet girl, and Leon had adored her.
To Leon Morgan is like an older brother, and Misha was like a niece.
As Leon drove, the memories overwhelmed him. His eyes began to turn red as he recalled the tragic event; tears filled his eyes whenever he recalled the day—the kidnapping, the helplessness, the horror of losing someone so pure.
Somehow, Morgan had learned the location of Vincin. A senior officer had leaked the information to him out of sympathy. And Morgan had come to Leon, asking for him to kill Vincin.— "Leon, please... kill that bastard just like he killed my daughter. Please..."
Leon didn't hesitate at all. The decision was made.Morgan's grief was undeniable. And—
"The death of a single pure soul is equal to the death of all humanity..."
Indeed, Leon isn't very human for injustice. Vincin had been on his way to his house with friends when Leon, armed with two butcher knives, approached them with heavy steps and wide eyes with tears.
Just when they stopped in front of Vincin's house and were having a conversation. Suddenly, Leon walked from the shadows. He was gripping the knives tightly, his movements swift and deadly.
He walked towards them with heavy steps, and with a few swift motions, the deadly blades did their work. His whole body was stained with blood, and Vincin's life was snuffed out in an instant.
They get scared watching Leon walk towards them with naked knives. They tried to run inside the house, but Leon threw his knife, and it struck his friend's cranium, puncturing the skull.
Vincin gets shocked, but his life was on the line; Leon rushed forward, sinking the blade into the muscle and ribs, slicing through the back. His hands moved like an animal,—the cold steel cutting through the layers of flesh. The sounds of tearing flesh echoed as Leon's hands became drenched in Vincin's blood.
Vincin's body collapsed to the ground, the weight of his own blood pulling him down, and Leon continued his butchering.
With the blade, he slashed at Vincin's abdomen, cutting through the dermis, fat, and muscle layers. His hands, now a mangled mess, were severed at the wrists, and his facial meat—cheeks, nose—was torn apart by the gruesome swings of Leon's butchering. His ribs were exposed as his chest cavity was shredded, the muscle fibers rupturing. Vincin's legs were hanging; the femur and tibia were slightly attached to the shredded butchered skin and flesh, swinging loosely. His entire body was bathed in blood, but Leon made sure to avoid the jugular and heart, prolonging his suffering. Leon could feel the blood pumping from his own body as he continued to tear into Vincin.
Despite the carnage, Vincin's eyes remained wide, and he was still breathing, although barely. He clung to life, but the pain was unbearable. Leon stopped; his hands were tired.
Vincin was alive since Leon avoided butching the vital points, but the other guy died almost instantly. Leon looked up and breathed heavily. And looked back at Vincin—dead but alive...
"Do you know what we criminals fear the most? It's not the consequences of our actions, But it's the uncertainty of being seen by someone. Fear of being witnessed. Fear is an instinct, a primal emotion. The body reacts before the mind can think. Our fear works the same, but don't worry..."
Leon whispered sarcastically, "THERE ARE NO WITNESSES."
Vincin's pupils dilated in shock as he took his last breath, the final signs of life fading from his body as his blood-pumping shuts down.