The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

Angie looked at Carrie. “You should trust her. They’ll be safe.”

“Three years ago, Paige endured unimaginable pain for us. Now, three years later, we can’t just sit back and trust that she’ll be okay while she’s trapped in danger,” Carrie said, emphasizing each word.

“And what can you help with?” Angie asked bluntly. “Are you going to rely on makeup, architecture, or Nick’s newly learned shooting skills?”

At this, Nick frowned slightly, stepping forward. “Say what you want about me, but leave them out of it.”

“Going back will only make things worse, a suicide mission,” Angie continued, seemingly unbothered.

“Angie, I know you’re skilled in martial arts, and we aren’t. That’s why just the five of us are going back. Whatever the outcome-life or death-we accept it,” Mila said firmly. “As you said, the five of us combined can’t win a fight. Losing us won’t make a difference to Temple in Heaven, so don’t stop us.”

Angie stared at them, her gaze settling on the glasses in Nick’s hand. She realized they were returning with a death wish. “Why?”

“No reason,” Nick replied, looking straight at her. “Temple in Heaven’s rules are important, but Paige means more to us. Maybe she’ll make it out safely, but we can’t do nothing. Otherwise, we won’t be able to live with ourselves.”

“You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment,” Angie responded.

“If we lose our emotions, what’s the point of living?” Nick shot back without hesitation.

It was the first time Nick, who usually catered to her, had so strongly contradicted Angie.

Angie was stunned, unable to find a retort. She stared at the man who usually behaved so frivolously, left speechless.

…

River Town remained lively, almost as if nothing was wrong. Countless lanterns floated up into the sky, and fireworks lit the night.

In a grand hall, the man with the demon mask sat across from Enrico and Paige. He picked up a knife and fork, slowly cutting into the freshly served steak. “Mr. Jasper said you two were smart. If you really were, you’d at least pretend to agree. Otherwise, how will you leave River Town?”

Paige chuckled softly. “If I agree, what will the Folsom family do next?”

“Of course, they’d ask you to hand over some friends-Jaden, for example, or the Peak Club members. The Folsom family would ‘invite’ them to ensure you focus on helping them.”

“So, it’s a hostage exchange,” Paige remarked.

“Isn’t it a good solution? Even though it’s not ideal for your friends, it’s a way to ensure your own safety,” the man said with a smile.

The implication was clear: even if they didn’t want to help, they could pretend to agree, hand over some people, and escape.

Paige, uninterested in the trivial conversation, looked up at the man’s mask with its menacing fangs. “I’m more interested in who you are.”

“The old man said you’re very clever. Why don’t you take a guess?” the man replied, his young voice full of amusement.

“My teacher said it was you who informed him about the relationship between Enrico and me. But three years ago, very few knew about it,” Paige began. “My capture was revealed by Rachel. After that, you started planning. Rachel isn’t a fool; how did she get manipulated so easily? It seems like you and Rachel were closer than it appeared, enough to convince her.”

The man’s hand froze momentarily, and Paige knew she was right.

“How about I put on a little show for you two?” he said, pushing the steak aside. He placed his left hand, with its beautiful, long fingers, on the table.

Enrico and Paige watched coldly.

The man spun a knife in his hand and without hesitation, sliced off his pinky finger. The finger fell apart in two pieces, the sight gruesome.

Enrico’s eyes darkened. Paige’s breath caught in her throat as she saw there was no blood.

The man picked up the severed finger, showing that it was soft, like dough. He peeled it off, revealing that his real pinky was already missing. What remained was a small stump, marring the beauty of his hand.

The man smiled creepily, holding the fake finger.

Paige realized who he was. Leaning closer to Enrico, she whispered, “Your half-brother was kidnapped once. You didn’t save him, and his fingers were cut off.”

Hearing this, Enrico’s face grew cold. He raised his gaze to the man in the grotesque mask and said, “Emery Gustin.”

At Enrico’s words, the man removed his mask.

Beneath the menacing fangs was a young face, delicate and fair, no older than twenty. His boyish features were full of innocence, even his eyes were pure. He smiled, revealing two sharp canines. “Enrico, Paige, you’re both so clever.”

Despite his innocent smile, something sinister lingered beneath the surface.

Paige stared at him in silence. His hands resembled Enrico’s, though his face did not.

Enrico had vague memories of this brother, though they had never met in person. Even the kidnapping, a key part of Emery’s past, had long faded from Enrico’s memory.

“You’re the fourth son of the Gustin family, and you joined the Folsom family?”

Had the events not unfolded as they did, Paige would never have guessed that the one targeting them in The Capital was Enrico’s brother.

“Son?” Emery repeated the word as though it were foreign. He chuckled, his smile even more innocent. “Paige, when Enrico took control of the Gustin Group and locked up my parents, I was locked inside a refrigerated truck. I stopped being the ‘young master’ a long time ago.”

A refrigerated truck? Was he referring to the kidnapping?

“Do you hate Enrico?” Paige asked knowingly.

Emery didn’t respond. Instead, he got up and walked over to Enrico. Crouching beside him, he looked up with a childlike expression. “Enrico, do you remember the first time we met?”

Of course, Enrico had no memory of it.

“Back then, you were kneeling, begging Father to let you collect our sister’s body,” Emery said, still crouched. “I watched from the car, thinking how pitiful you were.”