No More Pain For This Villain.

Chapter 373  Counting Lives

Alfred's words echoed in the room. My mind struggled to process what he had just said, my eyes glued to the two strangers now bathed in a new, damning light. They are the murderers of my parents.

They are the cause of my pain.

They did this.

I couldn't tear my gaze away from them. The weight of those words crushed my chest, my breath shallow and erratic. Suddenly, I felt a hand grab my right one, soft yet deliberate. Faint breathing brushed against my ear, and a sweet, hauntingly melodic voice poured in. "Choose your closure," Sasha whispered. She was behind me, her presence cold and commanding. I looked down to see what she had slid into my hand—a gun. Its surface was cold to the touch, and the sheer weight of it made my stomach churn. My grip faltered, and the weapon slipped from my fingers. **Bang!** The gun misfired, the deafening crack splitting through the room and sending a shower of plaster dust from the ceiling. My legs gave way, and I collapsed to the floor, my breaths shallow and uneven. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. I scanned my surroundings, desperate to ground myself. Everything felt surreal—mad, chaotic, like the fragments of a nightmare I couldn't wake from. The two men, chained and kneeling in the distance, squirmed. The older one was middle-aged, his short hair disheveled, his scruffy beard patchy and filthy. The younger one, thin and wiry, had a lanky face marred by the gap of a missing tooth. They were staring, not at me but behind me, their faces pale, their lips trembling as they pleaded. Their words were muffled, incoherent, but the terror in their eyes was unmistakable. Murderers.