When the plot-skips players into the game world

The dancer ultimately couldn't bring herself to be ruthless.

Little Deer's intentions were clear to her—sending the young ones to "test the waters" meant leading those former colleagues into a trap.

Although they were unwilling to do the hard and exhausting work, unwilling to search aimlessly across the country for the Blood Celestial Marshal... But using an excuse like "discovered a treasure" would easily lure them in. And the more corrupt they became, the more susceptible they were to manipulation.

"You really are kind."

Little Deer sighed, concluded her prayer, and stood up to leave: "Forget it... Who knows how much longer we'll be colleagues. Since this is how you feel, I respect your wishes. We've investigated to this extent, which is more than enough. Go and rest, I'll report the results to the teacher."

—In Little Deer's view, those "colleagues" were no different from traitors. Using their lives to scout the path wasn't a problem for her. It could even be seen as purging the faction while utilizing their last bit of usefulness.

"I just think... this also counts as a form of corruption."

Long after Little Deer left, the dancer whispered to the empty air beside her.

It seemed she was wrestling with something... or maybe trying to convince herself.

Undoubtedly, the dancer's duties were completed.

She wasn't the kind of assassin skilled in combat or stealth, but one proficient in poison and curses without a trace—just like every dancer trained by the Hawkeye Organization. To prevent her Path of Adaptation level from being detected by astrologers and prophets, she even used a curse to give up her Path Level, making her appear like an ordinary person.

—In the name of justice, she had lost count of how many people she had killed.

Though she appeared to be in her early twenties, she was actually over thirty. And it had been twenty-eight years since she killed her first person.

At least over two hundred people were poisoned by her during intimate encounters. To avoid detection, the curse poison she administered would only take effect days after she left.

While some were pure scum and outright villains, there were also those who loved her. She hadn't killed many of the Sons of the Moon; more often, they were wealthy merchants, scholars, or heirs unwilling to support the Hawkeye Organization.

The organization told her, "If these people don't die, they'll bring death to more of our brothers and sisters." Therefore, she killed them through dirty means... The majority of her assignments involved espionage.

Using her body, using lies. Trading genuine feelings with conspiracies and scripts.

Seducing with beauty, deceiving with love, then choosing betrayal.

She never stayed by the traitor's side at the moment of revelation... so she never witnessed their expressions of disbelief and heart-wrenching betrayal. But that didn't mean she couldn't imagine it.

As a young girl, she would sometimes wake from nightmares. She would dream of those people seeing through her disguise, unmasking her while she had nowhere to run; she would dream of those people turning into resentful spirits after death, coming to claim revenge, cursing her in her dreams; she would also dream of her identity being exposed, captured, and brutally tortured by the Sons of the Moon.

Occasionally, she would reveal her confusion and pain to her teacher or colleagues. She often received the same unwavering response:

"—Fool, our cause is just!"

Now, how she wanted to ask them—does it still remain just?

Once it lost its inherent justice, she felt consumed by guilt.

It wasn't just about killing one or two people... those she killed weren't all bad. It involved hundreds or thousands dead. Many executioners in their careers may not end as many lives. Because she abandoned her Extraordinary Level for the sake of the Path, she never became a high-ranking "mentor" to assign tasks to others... oftentimes, she didn't even know what crime the target had committed.

As time went on, the tasks she received grew shorter. Sometimes, there was nothing but a name.

No explanation, no crime, no reason.

Yet she chose to carry out the tasks.

All because of her hatred for the Sons of the Moon—her sister was killed by a Son of the Moon during Night Hunting, drained of blood. When she found the mutilated body, she vowed never to forgive those Sons of the Moon.

The Son of the Moon who killed her sister had long since been slain by her. She collected some of the ashes and mixed them with her sister's ashes, all kept in the necklace on her chest. No matter how many identities or faces she switched, she refused to part with it. It was also the only thing that might reveal her identity.

But now...

How does the sin accumulated on her hands compare to that of the Sons of the Moon from back then?

Will there be anyone's siblings, sons, or daughters hating her, just as she once hated the Sons of the Moon?

By the time the dancer finished her prayers, she had made up her mind.

As Priest Casius hurried out from maintaining the barrier, breathless, he saw the dancer gracefully rise, preparing to leave.

Priest Casius dared not call out her name in the presence of others, but quickened his steps to catch up with her, then, lowering his voice, called out from behind: "Miss Clara!"

"...Priest Casius, is there something you need?"

"Dancer" Clara turned her head, smiled gently and politely.

Her smile held traces of reserve and distance.

—Clara once considered, maybe she could have a family of her own. Just like she spoke to Little Deer.

Now that the Sons of the Moon were all dead and Hawkeye no longer had a reason to exist, even though the Blood Celestial Marshal was descending, Lord Aivars would likely handle it all. In other words, she could retire.

Even though she always followed the organization's orders to kill, and never took private contracts bypassing the organization's cut... But among the tasks the organization assigned her, some were indeed shared-kill contracts. Over the years, she had amassed quite a fortune, enough to live out an affluent and leisurely life as if she were a wealthy young lady—

Buying a manor in the Iris Flower, hiring twenty to thirty servants, marrying an honest man, giving him some money to start a small business, and having a few children. Ideally, two sons and a daughter. She could buy many gowns and jewelry, attend the banquets of noble ladies. She could even keep a dog... she always wanted a dog, but never had the chance. The scent of a dog would expose her, and she was constantly moving around different cities, never settling.

Her mission was over.

That kind of future was already within reach.

Clara had deceived countless men, she knew exactly which were good and which were bad. She knew that with just a nod, she could accept the other party as her "bells." With such a protection, it would also prevent him from accidentally being killed by her colleagues.

With Hawkeye about to become the controller of the Iris Flower, and the teacher planning to follow the Holy Nation path, this was already the best future.

All was earned through her hard work.

...Yet somehow, the dancer felt inexplicably nauseous.

Just like being pregnant. Just thinking of that future made her want to vomit.

The dancer gently refused Priest Casius' invitation for dinner, watching as the man left dejectedly, her gaze soft and calm.

—You deserve better, sir.

That night, the dancer sneaked alone into the church's basement.

She had already reported the location of the Blood Celestial Marshal to her teacher, and soon Aiwass would arrive. She didn't need to continue the investigation... Such intelligence was already sufficient. Or rather, she could wait for Aiwass to arrive and then go to the basement for the investigation with him.

Or rather, this was not an investigation at all... she simply didn't want to end her duty and mission.

Let it be. The dancer thought.

Let herself be sacrificed in a mission. It was better than living with a fortune of sin that didn't belong to her.

Before setting off, she anonymously sent all her possessions to her parents. She had been away from home for so long... they would surely understand everything.

She had wanted to meet Aiwass for a long time.

But perhaps... there would no longer be such an opportunity.