She asked, turning to look at Declan, whose brows furrowed.
"No."
He replied curtly.
She turned and walked toward him, only to watch as he backed away a step.
The sight made a grin appear at the corner of her lips, something truly rare.
"What? Do you think I’m a monster now for beheading someone?" she asked.
In response, Declan turned away to look back at the scene.
"If you hadn’t arrived when you did, it’d be my corpse that is being whisked away," he said, causing the grin on her lips to recede.
"So even if I back away from a monster now, that monster at least saved my life."
"I’m just a little bit irked by the memories, but I’ll be fine... with time."
He whispered, and she hummed beneath her breath.
A teen like him had witnessed someone being beheaded right in front of him.
He had not flinched when she had sat beside him just moments ago, but now he had, obviously because of the scene below.
It must have been a frightening flashback, and that much was understandable.
She brought out her cigarette and lit it, exhaling smoke into the air.
She paused slightly, turning toward him before waving the cigarette box in front of him.
He turned and looked at it, then back at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Want a cig?"
She asked, and Declan shook his head.
"I’m fine."
She simply shrugged, slipping the cigarette back into her coat.
"What’s with you and cigarettes anyway? You smoke a lot."
Huuuuuuuu
In that moment, she tilted her face upward, exhaling a cloud of white smoke, and Declan watched as she smiled.
It was a smile filled with so much relief.
"It’s comforting," she said, turning to him. "Did that come out weird?"
She asked, noticing his repeatedly quivering eyebrows.
"No. You truly exhale in relief anytime you smoke," he said, and she grinned, planting the cigarette between her lips.
But then, she paused.
"I’m sorry, Declan," she said, causing him to turn toward her.
"There are a million ways I could have stopped that man, and yet, I chose the most brutal one and scarred your soul."
"Now that I think about it, it must have been truly a horrible sight."
She said it, the realization finally hitting her.
"It’s fine," Declan said.
I’ve gone through much worse, he thought silently to himself.
I thought getting cleaved through the head would have made me immune to such sights, yet...
His hand moved to his chest, resting over his heart as he felt its tempo slowly increase.
It’s still so scary.
WHUP!
WHUP!
CRRSH!
The air above the mansion blew powerfully as an object descended toward the ground.
Declan, sitting on the side of the railings, quickly got down and watched as a helicopter descended from the sky, landing upon the building.
It sent a powerful stream of air rushing around him, blowing his hair wildly around his head, but the force gradually weakened as the rotor’s spinning speed began to slow.
Before the blades on the helicopter had fully slowed down, the side hatch suddenly swung open, and a figure jumped out.
Yes, he literally jumped out, his head narrowly missing getting cleaved off by the rotor blades.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
An incredibly loud and boisterous laugh followed as Declan stepped back, watching a dwarf-like man speed toward him.
Before he could even take three steps backward, he had already been snatched off his feet, and his eyes bulged when he felt the squeeze around his back.
It was as if his soul was being forced out of his body.
"Let... Me... GOOOO!"
"Let him go, Dumblewick."
The words rang out from behind, and Declan was finally released from the death hold, collapsing onto his back as his hands immediately moved to rub his creaking bones.
He had almost been folded into himself by this person.
"Boss Morg!?"
The man said it aloud before straightening himself, his expression instantly turning dignified as he bowed, his upper body forming a smooth forty-five-degree angle.
"Boss Morg."
It was the same greeting, but this time, it carried a far more respectful tone.
Boss Morg nodded, picking up a cigarette and placing it between her lips as her hand reached for the lighter in her pocket, only stopping when she noticed Dumblewick standing before her with an already lit lighter in his hand.
"If I may, Boss Morg?"
He said respectfully as Boss Morg lowered her cigarette.
Placing the flame beneath it, he lit it before calmly stepping aside.
Declan had only just begun to feel the ache in his lower back recede when he tumbled back onto his feet, his teeth still grinding together in pain and annoyance.
"Declan, meet Dumblewick," Boss Morg introduced. "One of the most competent men we’ve got in Mordran."
Declan finally got a good look at the man.
He was short, about 1.5 meters in height. A dwarf, but clearly a man, seemingly in his forties, with tiny strands of white mixed into his pitch-black hair.
His brows were full and equally dark, while faint lines at the sides of his face gave him a naturally smiling appearance.
Though Declan knew he wasn’t actually smiling, as whenever he did, a dimple appeared, just as it was appearing now while Dumblewick walked toward him.
"It’s an honor to meet the recruit recommended by Boss Morg herself," the man said, stretching out his hand for a handshake.
Naturally, Declan took it, but in the next instant, his expression changed.
CREAAAK!
"Ahhhhhhhh!"
A shrill scream echoed through the air as Dumblewick grinned wickedly, squeezing Declan’s hand tightly.
Huuuuuuuu
"Let him go, Dumblewick," Boss Morg said with another exhale of smoke, and Dumblewick immediately released his hold, sending Declan flying backward and landing on his butt.
"Yes, Boss Morg!" Dumblewick said, regaining his dignified expression.
Declan looked at his hands. They had swollen up, turning completely crimson.
"Tch."
He turned away, scoffing at Dumblewick’s dignified expression, which almost made him seem as though he hadn’t just brutally tried to crush his hand a few seconds ago.
A glint passed through Dumblewick’s gaze, and he turned to look at Morg.
"Boss Morg, the Base has a new command for you," he said, his hands dipping into his coat before bringing out a folded letter and presenting it with both hands.
Morg raised an eyebrow at the envelope.
If the Base wanted to send information, they could have simply sent it to her device.
If they were using paper, then...
She opened the letter, her cold eyes surveying its contents, and she paused for about ten seconds before exhaling her cigarette once more.
"Here," she said, turning to Dumblewick and bringing out the serum.
Immediately, Dumblewick’s hands reached into his coat, and out came a briefcase.
It left Declan speechless.
How did a briefcase even manage to fit under there?
Opening the suitcase, Dumblewick presented it before her, bowing slightly as he did, and Boss Morg placed the test tube inside.
Dumblewick took a step back, then carefully shut the briefcase close.
"I’ll trust you’ll deliver them both back safely to the Base."
"On my life," Dumblewick responded, but Declan’s brows creased.
"Both?" he asked, and Morg turned toward him.
"Something important came up, so I won’t be following you back to the Base."
"You’ll be fine with Dumblewick, though," she said, exhaling a puff of cigarette as Declan’s eyebrows quivered, his gaze shifting toward the smiling man.
"No way I—"
"Trust me, Declan," Boss Morg said before he could continue. "Dumblewick will get you back to the Base safely."
She said it confidently, and in the end, he could only sigh and let it go.
"Come with me, Declan," Dumblewick said with a beaming smile as he continued up into the helicopter, though Declan remained where he was.
"This wasn’t how we planned things. You said we’d both be returning to the Base," he said, and she exhaled before replying,
"Change of plans."
Declan fell silent for a while before saying,
"You’ll be back at the Base soon, right?"
"I don’t make promi—"
"Promise?" Declan added.
Morgaret paused, her brows creasing as she turned to look at him, only to find his eyes brimming with quiet conviction.
In the end, she exhaled tiredly before responding,
"I promise."
He turned away after that and entered the hatch.
Boss Morg remained where she was, watching as the helicopter rose into the air and quietly disappeared into the dark of night.
She reached for the cigarette, but paused, letting her hand fall to her side as she exhaled deeply, a faint smile curling across her lips.
"Dumb kid."
Her voice echoed across the top of the mansion, carried away by the breeze before disappearing into the night sky.
______________
"You know, Declan," the boisterous voice rang out through the helicopter cabin.
"I don’t even know," Declan whispered tiredly.
"Back at the Base, amongst the High Rankers, Boss Morg was the only one who had never recommended anyone."
"Even after being given dozens of chances for personal recommendations, she ignored all of them, some even coming with promises of millions of Nollars."
"Yet here you are, joining the Base under her recommendation."
"Tell me, how do you feel?"
Dumblewick said loudly as Declan rolled his eyes.
"What is this, some press interview?" he said tiredly.
The man had asked a million and one questions by now, his mouth never stopping for even a second throughout the entire journey, and Declan had already grown tired of answering him.
"Ha, Declan, you know..."
Here he goes again.