I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!
Chapter 811: Badge of honor

Chapter 811: Badge of honor

Meanwhile...

Deborah exhaled heavily, forcing her eyes open despite the blur obscuring her vision and the aches coursing through her body. She reached out and grasped at something nearby, her hand holding a cold metal. Grunting, she surveyed her surroundings.

Blinking repeatedly, she fought to clear her blurred vision. Gradually, the metal bar she clung to came into focus. As if unlocking a Pandora’s box, she rattled the bar, the sound echoing in the dark and silent room.

"No," she muttered, catching sight of another nearby cage. She turned her head slowly, her gaze trembling as she spotted Hunter, curled up and unconscious. "Hunter!"

Deborah shook the metal bar of her own cramped cage, realizing she was confined in the same manner as Hunter, knees bent to fit within the small space intended for animals.

"Hunter!" she called through gritted teeth, her movements restricted. "Hey, Hunter, wake up!"

"Ugh..."

A coarse grunt escaped Hunter, a surge of relief flooding Deborah’s heart. Yet, it offered little solace; their predicament remained unchanged.

"Ugh..." Hunter grunted again, blinking and surveying their surroundings, as though hoping to recollect memories prior to this moment. The sight of the dim, decrepit interior of the room sent his heart racing. Like Deborah, he clung to the metal bar, shaking it in desperation.

"Dragon!!!" Hunter yelled, his voice only echoing back at him. "Get me out — Dragon!!"

Deborah ground her teeth and sighed, letting Hunter scream to his lungs’ content. She surveyed the surroundings one last time, fully aware of their location: the torture house. They had frequented this place, witnessing others confined to these cages and subjected to animal-like treatment. They were not innocent either, having participated in tortures at Dragon’s command.

"Ugh!!!" Hunter attempted to kick the metal, only to wince at the pain from his injured ankle.

"That’s enough," she interjected, calming herself within her own cage. "We’ve been here before, Hunter. Brute force won’t work."

Hunter yelled once more, futilely. He huffed deeply, closing his eyes in regret.

"This is bad," he muttered, his eyes still shut. "We’re finished, Deborah."

Deborah turned her head, observing Hunter curled up like a fetus. Before their confinement, both had endured a night of torture. Their former colleagues had beaten them, broken their bones, and subjected them to humiliation. Throughout, Dragon silently watched from a distance.

Dragon hadn’t interrogated them; he hadn’t uttered a word. He simply observed, devoid of any hint of empathy or anger. It was as if he’d already understood everything and was merely awaiting their acknowledgment.

"I shouldn’t have trusted you." A tear trickled down Deborah’s temple, her lips trembling. "I shouldn’t have listened to you."

Bitterness clouded her eyes as she recollected the events leading to their current plight. After Deborah and Hunter’s conversation in the storage room, they had gone separate ways—Hunter to carry out his task and Deborah to hide in the guesthouse. They agreed to meet at a specific time.

Deborah arrived at their rendezvous point, only to be ambushed. They sacked their head, violence unleashed upon her. She blacked out, awakening to the sight of Dragon standing before her. Subsequently, she endured relentless torture by her former colleagues until she lost consciousness again. Before succumbing to unconsciousness, she glimpsed Hunter enduring the same fate.

Now, confined in animal cages, stripped bare, they awaited their fate, contemplating the manner in which Dragon would end their lives. Would it be cement followed by an ocean plunge? A dip in a pool of acid? Perhaps a crematorium, burning them alive? Years of service to Dragon had given them a macabre insight into their potential end.

"How... did he know?" she murmured. "It’s pointless, I suppose, as it seems I’ll die soon, but I still want to know."

Hunter’s breath grew heavier, eyes fixed on the damp ceiling. "I don’t know," he replied quietly, shaking his head. "He called me, then started beating me. Next thing I know, he held my phone and said things."

"I couldn’t process what he said," Hunter added bitterly, recalling Dragon waving a phone in front of him while he teetered in and out of consciousness. "All I remember is his intent to kill me. That look on his face... pure evil. I’ve never been so frightened."

Silence enveloped the room as words became unnecessary. Dragon was quick to discern; he was always astute, cunning, and malevolent.

"Did you inform your boss?" she asked after a while, prompting Hunter to reply with sarcasm.

"Do you think I had the chance?"

"That’s a foolish question, isn’t it?" Deborah let out a short, dry laugh. "Another foolish inquiry: Don’t you have a backup plan?"

Hunter didn’t respond immediately, acknowledging the seemingly foolish questions. Yet he couldn’t blame her. Both were desperate, cognizant that without aid, they were resigned to await their demise.

"One only receives a badge or some ceremony if they die on the mission," he replied nonchalantly. "You know the drill, Deb."

"All for a bloody badge... huh?"

"Hm." Hunter hummed, closing his eyes, surrendering to the cold embrace of the metal surface. "All for a bloody badge of honor. What a life. And yet, even if I die here, I don’t mind dying on a mission."

Deborah raised a brow and turned her head, staring at Hunter’s side profile.

"I fought for what is right," he continued as the corner of his lips curled up into a bitter smile. "Dragon had ruined many people’s lives. His sworn brother, Dimitri, not only hurt felons in the underground but also innocent ones. Both of them were pure evil, but the only difference is that Dragon used to choose his enemies. He only targeted felons just like him — probably, a habit he picked up from the organization he came from."

Deborah peeled her gaze from him, lips pressed into a thin line. "Now that you mention it, when I met Dragon, he picked his enemies meticulously. Initially, I thought he simply wanted a low profile. But now that you mentioned it, it does make sense. He started making bold moves when Hera slowly succumbed to her ’disease,’ and he’s unstoppable since then."