Hitman T

I still don't have proof that the driver intentionally hit L, but I'm not dumb. From the moment we got on the ambulance together to the hospital, his behavior wasn't that of a normal driver involved in an accident.

Calm, unafraid, silent - he seemed to know this was going to happen. When I'm out with L, I don't carry a gun - she doesn't like it, and neither do I. I don't even carry a knife.

Because L said, "If we can be normal for an hour, let's be normal for an hour. Act like normal people, dress like them. You won't see a normal person hiding a knife up their sleeve when they go out."

On the ambulance, with L lying there, I didn't want to disturb her. I didn't want anything, just hoping she'd have someone there for her on her journey to the afterlife. I just wanted that person dead, nothing else.

I'm almost certain this was the idea of the company's top management. A friend said I'm a well-oiled machine, how could one small part ruin a machine that brings in so much profit?

As long as L is gone, even if another person's life is sacrificed, the company doesn't care. What matters is that I've given up.

I know the company can probably guess I won't let this driver off the hook, and I don't plan to. Whoever was behind this, he was the first to commit the crime. It's like those people I've killed - no grudges, but I can't escape my involvement.

That driver wasn't my colleague, he was just a driver. Maybe he did it for money or because the company had something on him. He might not know he's going to die, or maybe he does. When someone knows they're going to die, they go from restless to extreme fear to breakdown to calm indifference.

When they wheeled L directly into the morgue, my last hope shattered. I thought they'd rush her to the emergency room. Even though the doctor told me on the way that she was gone.

L's body was intact, internal bleeding from organ displacement. I don't want the transportation department involved too much because I don't want the driver to face any stupid legal consequences. That's not what I want. He wasn't speeding, didn't run a red light, wasn't drunk - just a simple traffic accident, just compensation, no criminal responsibility.

He's mine.

The days after L's gone feel like a silent black-and-white movie. I'm like a soulless shell, not knowing how I'm getting through each day. My stomach is empty, but I'm not hungry. I'm tired, but as soon as I lie down, my heart starts racing, making me anxious.

My heart feels like a knife twisting inside me, no longer comforted by L's caring embrace and water when I need it.

I don't want to see anyone, talk to anyone, go out - I don't want to do anything.

I pick up each strand of hair L left at home, placing them in a small box. I hold that box every day.

I wear the scarf she knitted for me around my neck, never taking it off even when I sleep.

L came from a modest background, her father a common worker back in her hometown, earning less than a thousand a month. Her mother has back problems, needing therapy and medication. L was the pillar of her family.

Before me, she'd send two-thirds of her salary home each month. With me, it became all of it, plus an extra two thousand monthly. I couldn't send more, afraid her parents would get suspicious.

Now that this daughter is gone because of me, what use is money when the person is gone?

The driver compensated 370,000 yuan, and I added 430,000 more, giving 800,000 to her parents. I said the rest was a gesture from the company, as the boss valued L highly and was also deeply saddened by her passing.

A few days before L's cremation, I visited her. When I pulled her out of that big drawer, I had the urge to lay down beside her. Her frozen body, so pale, almost ethereal.

I sat on a chair beside her, talking to her. I can't remember how long I spoke or what I said, but there were still so many things I wanted to tell her.

Volume 1 End