Our Family Has Fallen

Laura’s heart skipped a beat. She swiftly reached for the Dagger she always kept with her. Instead of lunging toward the door, she pounced on the woman, pressing her down.

It wasn’t to slit her throat, however. She raised her hand to cover the woman’s mouth and then gestured for silence.

The woman was already panicking, dizziness overwhelming her mind. Strangely, she didn’t scream in terror but managed to suppress the urge to screech.

This made Laura’s attempt to cover her mouth seem somewhat superfluous.

Yet this did nothing to improve Laura’s expression; if anything, it grew even more somber.

The leader ordered me to dispose of the body. If they find out the woman isn’t dead, I’ll be in big trouble!

The situation outside is still unclear. It could be the leader wanting to kill me, or perhaps that underboss who lost the woman... In any case, too many people want me dead.

But in this situation, Laura didn’t have many choices. She simply motioned for the woman to hide in the corner and then blew out the Candle.

At that moment, the knocking on the door resumed, accompanied by an impatient grumbling.

”Where the hell did she go...?”

The person outside had just finished speaking and seemed about to leave when the door suddenly opened a crack, just wide enough to reveal a pair of eyes. The sight startled Laura so much that her heart leaped, and she involuntarily stepped back.

”What is it?” Laura looked at the person before her. Isn’t that the receptionist who handles the missions?

She had opened the door because she recognized his voice, but the Dagger concealed in the darkness showed Laura hadn’t let her guard down for a moment.

An experienced falconer isn’t easily bullied. Driven into a corner, they can do anything. She, too, possessed a naturally fierce and combative nature.

”There’s a mission that suits you. Head to the refugee camp outside the city right now; you are to assist a team en route to Hamlet.”

As he spoke, the receptionist kicked a package on the floor. ”This is a reward from the leader,” he said. ”Don’t dishonor the Eagle Flock out there.”

After delivering this line, the receptionist seemed eager to leave, muttering curses under his breath. He must have already cursed Laura countless times in his mind.

But Laura didn’t react much, focusing her attention on her surroundings, carefully checking to make sure there were no ambushes.

Once the receptionist was a good distance away, she used her Dagger to lift and inspect the package. Only after confirming there were no problems did she take it inside.

The Candle in the room was lit again. The contents of the package were revealed: a breastplate with feminine features, and in one corner, the crest of Bastia.

The steel armor, treated with a dark, rust-preventing finish, was finely crafted yet merely common. But when she saw the crest, Laura was even more convinced that the leader had intercepted the reward meant to come from the Earl.

After all, the Eagle Flock’s supplies came from either private dealers or the quartermaster’s office. Equipment marked with the Earl’s family crest wasn’t something an ordinary person could obtain.

As for why it wasn’t given to me before but is now... perhaps it’s because tomorrow’s mission involves contact with people close to the Earl, and he’s afraid of being discovered, so he returned this item. Of course, there’s another possibility... the leader intends to dispose of me during this mission, and my death would cause less trouble if I were wearing this breastplate.

No wonder I have this feeling. The Eagle Flock has done too many shady things. I myself have been involved in assassinating certain figures and suppressing traitors. Reflecting on it now, it’s debatable whether those people were truly traitors; they might have just been the leader’s way of eliminating rivals. But now, it seems I’ve become the ”traitor.” After all, the Earl wants me to keep my mouth shut, and the leader feels threatened. Both have reasons to eliminate me. Dying during a mission is the most plausible and least conspicuous way for that to happen.

The more Laura considered these possibilities, the more plausible they seemed, her already taut nerves stretching tighter, making her even more paranoid.

She felt enveloped by a thick malice. Even this last refuge seemed to be crumbling. In the confines of her small room, everything looked like a hidden assassin aiming for her head.

How can I break free from this situation...?

At that moment, she couldn’t help but size up the woman.

If I put the breastplate on her, kill her, then set a fire to make it look like an accident... could she die in my place?

”What’s wrong?” the woman asked softly, noticing Laura’s gaze.

The woman’s voice pulled Laura back to reality. This plan isn’t very practical. Firstly, it’s too contrived. If something happens to her right after I’m told this, it would definitely arouse suspicion. Besides, I’m in this line of work myself. I know the height and build differences are too significant. Moreover, Eagle Flock members have taken secret concoctions since childhood, making their skeletal structures slightly different from ordinary people. They would definitely inspect the bones. Once they found out, a horde of Eagle Flock members would be hunting me down. Damn it! I haven’t had a single day of peace since I got back. It’s even worse than being in Hamlet’s prison.

Just then, an idea seemed to strike Laura—a possible way to escape the Eagle Flock.

Laura abruptly put down the breastplate and said to the woman, ”I can’t let you go. If they find out you’re still alive, I’ll have to die with you.”

”I...” The implication of Laura’s words was unmistakable. Horror instantly twisted the woman’s features, and her eyes, which had regained a little life, now looked as if they were about to brim with tears.

Laura was somewhat speechless. Does this woman only know how to cry?