I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!
Chapter 1086: Need someone to identify their bodies

Chapter 1086: Need someone to identify their bodies

"But I’ve never met someone who lived just like them — perhaps worse — just because she got no choice. Do you really think you got no choice, Hera?"

A moment of silence descended on the room as neither Elliot nor Hera spoke. They weren’t even looking at each other; just staring at the same ceiling in their spots.

"Do you feel sorry for me?" Hera asked quietly. "Does talking to me make you feel like you should save me too?"

Elliot didn’t answer, but his silence was enough.

How could he not have such thoughts and feelings?

Elliot’s principle was always to fight for the good. But this time, the line between the good and bad was blurred and hazy. It wasn’t just the lack of sleep or the lack of motivation. This felt so wrong. Hera’s crimes were true and recorded. The legal justice system would surely sentence her to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

She deserved it.

Yet, it felt otherwise. If anything, it felt unfair.

"I didn’t lock you here just so you think of me," Hera spoke after a prolonged silence. "Stop thinking or considering me. If you see me as the same Hera Cruel you’d been trying to catch all these years, things will be easier."

"Things are always easier said than done."

"Elliot Dunkel, it’s not that I don’t want to get imprisoned," Hera remarked in a clear and absolute tone. "If I turn myself in, how long do you think it will take me to take over the prison cells? Do you think the officer in charge is enough to intimidate me? Or rather, are you sure I didn’t plan anyone in all prisons in the world in case I get into one?"

Deep lines appeared between Elliot’s brows, staring at her side profile.

"Maybe I don’t want to be put behind bars in the end. It’s a waste of time," she continued in the same tone. "The power to dominate, to seize, to control... prison won’t take that away from me. It would be a fun time, instead of a punishment."

"Are you saying not being in prison is more like a punishment?" he concluded as that was how it sounded to him.

"Not a punishment," she corrected. "Just feels the same, except it’ll bring shame to every government agency if I wasn’t as regretful as you guys expected me to be."

"Is this how you always process things?"

"Was it bad?"

"It’s arrogant." Elliot looked away and sighed. "But it’s true, which is annoying. Your death isn’t enough to stop people from double-checking your grave and prison won’t stop you from having ’fun.’ Just where do you truly belong? Where can you be put?"

"In an island." For some reason, her answer was quick albeit quiet. "Living in a hut? Far away from the rest of the world?"

Again, Elliot looked at her. "Is that a wish? Or a request?"

"What do you think it is?" This time, Hera also looked back at him. "Was it a request? Or a simple fantasy that suddenly came into my mind while singing you a lullaby?"

"I don’t know."

"I don’t know either," she shrugged, sighing. "Sleep, if that is what you want. Talking to me might be fun and make you feel special, but trust me. You’re not special. I’m only indulging with you because I thought you wouldn’t be that interested in my life."

Elliot knitted his brows again. "You were running away from your men because they ask questions?"

"Don’t make me call you a moron. Do you call this as running away? I’m hiding."

"You’re impossible."

"If you know that, then stop talking."

"I’m trying." Slowly, Elliot closed his eyes and relaxed his body. But just after thirty seconds of silence, he spoke again. "I wouldn’t wake up with a gun aimed at me, right?"

"You’re asking the wrong questions. It should be: would you even wake up in the first place?"

"Are you trying to help me sleep or keep me awake?"

"That’s not for me to decide. Just think of me as your conscience talking."

Elliot had the urge to open his eyes and get up to make himself another cup of coffee. But the amount of caffeine he had in his system was already too much. He might get a heart attack if he took another cup.

"Dying from a coffee overdose sounds like a pathetic death, don’t you think?" he muttered, earning a chuckle from her. "Do you want to pray together?"

"Trust me. You don’t want to hear my prayers."

"Test me."

"Please, oh, great Lord. If I am no longer the reason for my husband’s smile, paralyze his face," she casually prayed, almost mocking. "And if I can no longer have him, then you can have him. Amen."

Elliot shook his head, realizing it was a wrong idea. He should’ve known he would only hear a bunch of blasphemous remarks in a matter of seconds.

Suddenly, a knock from the door came in.

Curious, Elliot lifted his head and gazed at the door. Lines on his forehead resurfaced when he saw Tiger by the door.

"Hera," called Tiger, eyes on Hera, completely ignoring Elliot on the floor. "We got them."

"Oh?" Hera snapped her eyes open, springing up from her lazy position.

"They’re ready and everyone is. We’re just waiting for you."

"Great work." Hera smiled, pushing herself to stand up. But just as she did, she looked back at Elliot.

"Where are you going?" Elliot asked. "Two days from now..."

"Mr. Dunkell, I told you. I’m only here to kill time while my men retrieve Dragon’s stashed money. I won’t stay with you throughout." Hera chuckled. "You got two days of preparation, but that doesn’t mean we’ll make our move in two days."

"Don’t explain to him," Tiger remarked coldly. "Let’s go, Hera."

Hera nodded, turning her back on Elliot to follow Tiger. As they did, Elliot sat up in a hurry.

"Are you going to attack the Interpol?"

Hera and Tiger looked back at him.

"Interpol is yours, but my enemies are mine. I’m not giving them two more days to live," Hera asserted, jerking her chin toward the documents on his side. "After two days, that document will be cut in half. Make sure to memorize them so you can identify their bodies."

She smiled once again before facing Tiger. "Let’s go."

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