Chapter 98

In the dead of night, when all was silent,

Maston suddenly felt a chill and woke up from his sleep. His blurry eyes gradually adjusted to the moonlight seeping through the window, allowing him to see the darkness. Feeling the breathing of his three children not far from his bed, Maston couldn't help but feel a warm sensation. Thinking it was still early, he was about to go back to sleep when a sharp pain suddenly shot through his back.

This pain was not from an external injury but an instinctive warning of internal danger. His years of military service, where he had faced life and death for over a decade, made Maston more alert to such dangers than the average person. His muddled mind instantly became clear. Just as he was about to think, a cold, unfamiliar voice suddenly sounded beside his bed.

"Don't move."

As the words were spoken, Maston felt a chill on his neck and instinctively glanced down, causing his body to tense up. A cold, gleaming blade was pointed at him.

Maston was no ordinary man. When he saw the intruder, a stranger shrouded in a black robe, he opened his only eye and calmly asked, "Who are you?"

"You can consider me a thief, a robber, or even a killer. I don't mind any of those labels," the man said coldly.

Maston clenched his fists. He wanted to resist; being threatened with a sword was a great humiliation. However, he couldn't move; if he did, he might die. From the man's words, Maston could roughly deduce that he was neither a thief nor a robber.

What did he want?

So, Maston asked, "What do you want?"

"I want you to do me a favor," the man said.

"What kind of favor?"

"Would you like to die once?"

As soon as the words were spoken, Maston instantly turned his neck to avoid the blade and kicked out with his leg, which was already poised for action. It was a sudden and fierce attack.

But the man didn't dodge; he didn't need to. As Maston's leg swung toward him, the man's hand opened and, in a flash, clamped down on the attack like a vise.

Everything came to a sudden stop.

"Crack—"

A sharp sound rang out, and Maston's thigh was suddenly pierced with excruciating pain. He suppressed a scream.

Suddenly, his vision blurred, and his chest felt a heavy impact, draining all his strength in that mysterious blow. The man casually threw Maston's leg aside, and Maston, ignoring the pain in his thigh, pressed his hands tightly against his chest, feeling intense pain and a suffocating sensation.

"You won't be so lucky next time," the man said coldly.

Maston coughed lightly, looking at him with a cold gaze. "Why don't you just kill me?"

"An alive you is much more valuable than a dead one," the man replied.

"Fine, tell me your purpose," Maston said, his chest gradually easing as he took deep breaths.

"I already told you, I just want you to die once," the man said.

"Are you playing with me?" Maston asked, suppressing his anger.

"No, I'm just stating a fact," the man said.

"What do you mean?" Maston asked.

"Death comes in many forms, whether real or feigned," the man said.

"You want me to fake my death?" Maston's sharp mind quickly grasped the meaning.

"Exactly," the man said.

"Why?" Maston asked.

"Because I want to borrow your identity," the man said calmly.

The room fell into a brief silence.

"Impossible! You might as well kill me!"

Borrowing his identity? What was his identity? A data clerk in the military archives! If his identity was borrowed, many important military documents could be leaked. Worse still, if the man was a spy from an enemy country, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Becoming a data clerk in the military archives was no easy feat. If it weren't for Maston's clean record and long military service, he would never have been able to take on this role. Although the job was simple and easy, its importance could not be overstated.

Maston was an excellent soldier and a patriot. He would never betray his country.

"What if you die? What about your children?"

The shadowy figure in the black robe slowly turned to look at the three children sleeping on a small bed nearby. They were Maston's three children. Even in severe pain, Maston didn't cry out, not wanting to wake his children. He was afraid that their cries might provoke the stranger to kill them!

But his greatest fear came true; the man was using his most precious children to threaten him.

"If you dare to harm my children, I will kill you!" Maston's forehead veins bulged, his eyes red as he gritted his teeth and growled.

"You're dead, how can you avenge them?" The man began to walk toward the small bed.

This immediately made Maston prepare to attack again, but his vision blurred, and his body became completely immobile. He could only watch helplessly as the man approached his children.

"I will kill you! Kill you..."

The man completely ignored Maston's threats, merely smiling as he squatted by the small bed. He reached out toward one of the sleeping children, causing Maston to breathe heavily and clench his teeth, his heart burning with rage.

"A very cute little girl, is she your youngest daughter?" The man touched the girl's white, innocent face. Perhaps sensing someone's touch, the little girl pouted and murmured, "Daddy, no."

"Please! Don't hurt my children!" Maston, a grown man, bit his lip until it bled, tears streaming down his face as he begged.

"Did I say I would hurt them?" The man turned and smiled, but his face was hidden under the large robe.

"As long as you don't harm them, I'll do anything you ask!" Maston pleaded desperately.

"I already said, my purpose is just to borrow your identity," the man said calmly.

"No! I won't betray my country!"

This was Maston's principle, and he wouldn't easily give in!

"Who said I want you to betray your country?" the man said.

"You... If not, why borrow my identity?" Maston asked, his voice softening.

The man nodded, seeming to understand Maston's concerns. "I just want to investigate someone. Unfortunately, the person's information might only be found in the military archives."

"Who?" Maston couldn't help but ask.

"A person who is about to die," the man said.

"Since they are about to die, why do you need their information?" Maston asked.

"Because with their information, I can ensure they die smoothly," the man said matter-of-factly.

Maston finally understood. The man wanted to kill someone, and if he could obtain the person's detailed information, he would have a better chance of success.

But who did he want to kill?

He didn't know, and he didn't want to know.

So, he refused again.

"I won't help you."

"I don't need your help; I just need you to die once," the man said again.

"Even if you successfully obtain what you want from the military archives, once the military discovers the anomaly, they won't let you off!" Maston, seeing the man's persistence, changed the subject.

"You don't need to worry about that."

The man casually walked around the room, seemingly losing patience. "If you don't want your children to grow up without a father, I suggest you agree to my proposal."

Maston fell silent. This time, the man's threat was clear.

If he refused, his three children would die.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot something..." The man suddenly remembered. "If that's not enough, I'll also kill all the families of the fallen comrades you've been supporting! Yes, I think you'll agree to my proposal. Without that burden, your life might not be so hard and poor, right?"

"You dare!" Maston's heart ached as he growled.

"Of course, I dare," the man said directly.

With those words, Maston fell silent.

"Silent, are you? Let me guess what you're thinking... Are you thinking that if you commit suicide now, I might leave you alone? Don't worry, if you die, I'll make sure your children join you, so you won't be lonely. And if there are any families of fallen comrades you feel guilty about, I'm sure it will be even more lively there," the man said calmly.

"What? Did I guess right?" The man laughed lightly, seeing Maston's deep hatred.

"Tell me your terms."

After a long time, Maston cried out.

"Knowing this, why waste time?" the man sighed.

Dawn broke, and the night passed.

"Are you ready, Maston?" the man asked, looking around the room. "Do I look any different?"

Maston said in a low voice, "You are a devil."

"Devil? No, no, Galbord has been dead for countless years. Logically, there are no devils in this world anymore."

"Are you ready?" "Maston" turned, opening his one eye and smiling.

"Hope you forget our agreement," Maston said.

"Don't worry, I always keep my word. Your children, the families of your fallen comrades... they will all be fine." "Maston" smiled and said, "Now, you need to rest."

With that, he approached Maston, waved his hand, and Maston fell silent.

Then, he walked to the small bed where Maston's three children were sleeping...

...

"Good morning, Maston, you're up early today," the neighbor's wife greeted as she saw Maston leaving early.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kora," Maston replied.

"Maston, why aren't your three little treasures seeing you off today?" Mrs. Kora looked behind Maston, curious.

"Oh, those three little ones? Last night, I took them to visit Samuel's house. They like playing with Samuel's children, so they stayed there. I'll pick them up when I get off work," Maston explained.

"Ah, I was thinking of taking them out to play today," Mrs. Kora said regretfully.

"Ha-ha, thank you, Mrs. Kora. Maybe next time," Maston laughed heartily.

After saying goodbye to Mrs. Kora, Maston started walking toward the military archives.

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It seems the story is flowing more smoothly recently, but it doesn't have the same flavor as before. I'm not sure if that's good or bad.