I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!
Chapter 1064: Not moved at all

Chapter 1064: Not moved at all

Romnick and his subordinate probably thought of many things the moment they figured the person gracing them with her presence was none other than Hera. Therefore, they weren’t surprised anymore when they were cornered and now had to march to their death.

"I just shot his leg," Hera complained, rolling her eyes. "He can walk on his own. Don’t treat him like he’s dying. At least, he got a few hours until he bleeds out!"

The subordinate looked at Romnick apologetically, releasing him so they could walk on his own. Romnick didn’t react as he channeled all his energy into keeping his balance, limping while dragging his injured leg.

"You’re crazy," Romnick breathed out, but it still reached Hera’s ear. "I should’ve killed you back then instead of Dragon."

"Mhm." Hera nodded, putting her foot down every once in a while because her snail’s pace forced her to lose balance. "If I were on that mission, I would’ve shot me first and then Dragon. Oh, right! You did try that, didn’t you? But my men jumped in the middle and took all those shots for me!"

The subordinate looked at Romnick in surprise. "What is she saying? Didn’t you say you were only targeting Dragon?"

Romnick didn’t reply, blinking wearily. His leg felt numb as buckets of sweat covered him in a short time. His vision would sometimes shake, but he managed to keep his consciousness. He knew once he lost consciousness, that would be his last. He would never wake up again.

"Why would he tell you guys he failed?" Hera sassed. "Of course, he’d blame everything just to keep his reputation."

The quirk on her lips formed into a smirk. "Romnick, Dimitri’s trusted lapdog. Whenever Dimitri wanted to get rid of someone — someone who was hard to catch — he’d send you. I did my research, you know? When I woke up after the accident, I was mindblown with all sorts of information I have in this head."

"So much information and yet, so little answer. It was full of who, why, what, and so on," she continued in the same cocky tone. "I was astounded when my team started profiling and doing background checks. Guess who is the first person’s file I read?"

The two didn’t answer, letting her prattle for her joy.

"King Hensonn," she stressed, watching Romnick slow down and glance over his shoulder. "Born in the year ’87 in the undeveloped town where mobs prowl the street shamelessly. Exposed to violence since the day he was born — how does it feel that your drug-addicted dad beat your mom until her skulls are crushed right after giving birth to a child that didn’t look like him?"

The corner of Romnick’s eyes turned red as his lips were pale. Despite his sickly appearance, the fury in his eyes remained.

"Do you think talking about my past is enough to provoke me?" he scoffed quietly. "I’m dying. It doesn’t matter."

"At the tender age of ten, you killed for the first time."

Again, Romnick didn’t react. He knew she was trying to provoke him, wanting to spark a reaction from him for her own sick joy. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. He was humiliated enough. Not that that was what mattered. He was bleeding.

"While that deadbeat man is snoring his lungs out, you went to his drawer and got a hold of his revolver," she continued as if she had all the right to tell the man’s story for everyone to hear. "You shot him in his sleep."

"He deserved it."

"Why? Because after beating your mom to death, he buried her in the backyard? Telling everyone she eloped with another man? And after that, he kept venting his anger on you?"

Romnick didn’t answer again, telling himself not to speak anymore. It was nonsense.

"I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it. He did deserve it. You should’ve beaten with a baseball bat for added effects." She nodded. "Regardless, I’m so proud of you!"

"Tss."

"That’s why... I can’t wrap my head around it," she remarked, this time, her tone didn’t carry arrogance. If anything, she suddenly sounded genuinely curious. "You suffered from the day you were born. Forced to mature and forget the concept of youth. How can you take away other children’s chances of having a better life than you had?"

Romnick snickered, this time stopping. He slowly turned around, meeting her eyes. Despite the beams at him, he knew she was looking at him.

"Because I’m the bad guy," he stressed. "And I don’t care about anyone’s life — men, women, elderly, children, even infants. As long as I benefit from it."

"As long as Dimitri benefits from it?"

"Dimitri is the only person who trusted me. He’s the only person who offers help when everyone else only sees a demon child for killing his father." He scoffed, running his tongue across his inner cheek. "That deadbeat son of a bitch knows how to present himself to people. Everyone sees him as a kind neighbor, a reliable workmate, a grieving husband, and a loving father. He knew where to hit and where it hurts — where to touch — so no one will suspect."

He rocked his head, realizing he eventually gave in. However, he didn’t regret it anymore. He was dying anyway. He might as well show emotion, get angry, trash-talk her, or do anything he could do. Surely, this wasn’t how he imagined spending the last moments of his life.

"Fun fact for you, Hera Cruel. When people saw that ten-year-old body, do you know what they said? That his father was depressed after his wife left him with another man, so he ended up being extra strict with his son. The son they all suspect is the product of her infidelity." he laughed in mockery. "So, why do I have to care for a life or two when there’s too many in this world? It’s just... one tragic story which everyone will forget in no time."

"I see." Hera nodded in understanding. "That’s why, huh?"

Hera assessed the pale Romnick and then glanced at his leg. When she lifted her eyes to meet him, she smiled.

"Then, I guess your death is just another tragic story," she remarked, eyes drooping. "I get it now. It’s a shame that the person who came in, disguising himself as Salvation, is Dimitri. But I respect that even when you know he’s simply using you, you still chose to be loyal."

Her smile looked subtle. She then slipped her hand into her jacket, took out a small syringe from it, and tossed it to the other man beside him. The other man caught it midair, confused.

"Give him a shot of adrenaline," she instructed. "That will relieve his pain temporarily."

Huh?

Both of them looked at her in confusion. What was she up to now? Was she moved by Romnick’s story?

"That is thanks," she explained, guessing the questions in their minds. "It’s a gesture of gratitude for reminding me why I have to get my shit together. Otherwise, my men will end up like you two."

Her smile stretched a little. "Also, I want to keep you alive, so you can witness how I open up Dimitri and take out all his organs one by one. Don’t worry. I’ll let you bite his heart so until death, you’d be together... forever. That would be tragic, but the metaphor behind it sounds hauntingly beautiful, don’t you think?"

Guess she wasn’t moved at all.

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