Chapter 1274: The True Accident! |
Masford really was dead!
Though they'd expected it, when Zhen Xin and Hu Wei actually saw the body, their pupils contracted.
In Lake's account, Masford was a clown with whom he resonated on a soul level, and Lake was a purist devoted to the pinnacle of performing arts. It stood to reason that Masford was the same kind of person.
Which meant he would never have agreed to Madame Freud using such "dirty" tactics against the Sunset. Even if he wanted to win, he would have insisted on winning fair and square.
Then his death... had Madame Freud—single-mindedly driving Morning Joy to victory—done it with her own hands?
Neither person present had forgotten that Madame Freud was a member of the Extreme Desire Brotherhood.
Corruption followers would stop at nothing to fulfill the desires in their hearts.
Though the public saw Madame Freud as an upstanding ringmaster, her personal morals—judging by the methods she'd used to deceive Lake—were far from noble.
But the question was: the emotions in the diary couldn't be faked. Would Madame Freud truly be so ruthless as to extinguish her own feelings for the sake of Morning Joy's honor?
How had he actually died?
With questions swirling, Zhen Xin turned to Madame Freud. Hu Wei had timely withdrawn his greatsword, and without that coercion, Madame Freud collapsed to the ground. It seemed she'd already lost any will to resist.
The grief on her face alone showed how deeply Masford's death pained her. But as a deceiver, Zhen Xin knew that sometimes seeing wasn't believing.
"Talk, Madame Freud. How do you explain all of this?"
Madame Freud lay on the floor, whimpering softly. Then she swallowed her tears, looked up with furious eyes, and demanded:
"Who are you people!"
Zhen Xin's smile didn't waver:
"Rest assured, we're not secret investigators sent by the royal court, nor are we enemies of the Morning Joy Circus. We're here to help you.
This circus competition has been drawn into a vortex beyond ordinary comprehension. You don't need to know the full picture—just tell us everything you know.
Of course, you have the right to refuse. And we have the freedom to take Masford with us.
Whether the clown gets to rest in one piece is up to you."
"Devils!
You're devils!"
Madame Freud became hysterical. When the crushing grief surged back, riding a wave of fury that overwhelmed reason, she lunged to her feet. She pulled a dagger from her bosom and plunged it straight at Zhen Xin's chest.
With her plan exposed, there was no going back. If the truth got out, not just she but all of Morning Joy would be dragged down.
Rather than watch the circus empire she'd built with her own hands collapse before her eyes, she'd rather fight now. If she could take out these two mysterious strangers, maybe—just maybe—she still had a chance!
So Madame Freud gritted her teeth, hurled herself forward, and drove the dagger into Zhen Xin's heart.
The unmistakable sensation of blade meeting flesh—and the resistance of the blade tip—made Madame Freud pause.
It worked?
She stared in disbelief at her own veined, trembling hands, at the blood splattered across her chest, at the blade sunk into flesh...
The devil was dead?
No—wait. Those weren't the devil's clothes. Those looked like... Morning Joy's performing costume?
Madame Freud jerked her head up—and the face before her was no longer the female devil's. It had become Masford's.
Yes. She had driven the dagger into Masford's heart with her own hands!
"No!!!"
Madame Freud's mind went blank. She didn't understand how the dead Masford had come back to life and taken the devil's place. All she could see were his disbelieving eyes and the shock-terror written across his face. She wailed, flung the dagger away, and stumbled backward in panic.
"No—no!! It's not like this! Masford, I didn't want to hurt you!"
"BANG—"
Madame Freud crashed to the ground.
The sharp pain sobered her for an instant. When she saw Masford collapse with his hand pressed over his chest wound, she scrambled over like a madwoman, gathered him in her arms, pressed down on the wound, and screamed:
"Don't! Don't die! You can't die!"
Her mind was empty. She crumpled over Masford's body, wailing and sobbing. And then the dead Masford suddenly opened his eyes, smiling warmly:
"Well, Ringmaster—now I believe you didn't kill your clown.
Ready to tell us your story?"
Madame Freud froze. She looked up blankly, only to find that the Masford in her arms had at some point turned back into the female devil.
The entire ordeal had been like an illusion—dragging her into the abyss of despair, then casually spitting her back out to roll softly across the floor.
Madame Freud stared blankly for a second. She shoved Zhen Xin away and threw herself at the prop box. When she saw Masford's body still lying inside, intact, relief flashed first—followed by another bout of heart-rending, lung-splitting sobs.
The circus ringmaster was completely broken.
Watching all of this, Hu Wei's eyelids twitched violently. He tightened his grip on his greatsword.
In this moment, the Zhen Xin before him looked less like the elder sister and more like the younger one—Zhen Yi. Because Zhen Yi was the one who drove other players "mad" using exactly these techniques.
Zhen Xin sensed the wariness behind her. She turned slightly, flashing an innocent smile, then looked back at Madame Freud:
"You have one chance. Otherwise, I'm not sure Masford won't climb out of that prop box himself."
"Devil... you're a devil..."
Madame Freud's voice had gone hoarse from crying. She couldn't bring herself to look at Zhen Xin, but she didn't dare stay silent either. Clutching the corpse inside the prop box, she told the true story in a ragged, broken voice.
"No one harmed Masford. He wasn't murdered. He died... in an accident..."
Zhen Xin started, then something clicked. She raised an eyebrow in shock: "The drinking?"
"Yes!"
Madame Freud had lost all capacity for rational thought. She had no mental energy left to wonder how these people knew so much. She just wanted to finish talking so these two devils would leave—get far away from her and Masford's body.
"That day, he went to a tavern to drink away the pressure of the Curtain Call performance. There, he ran into Lake, who'd come for the same reason.
They hit it off immediately and drank heavily. But Masford couldn't handle that much alcohol. His body had always been frail. The excessive alcohol killed him that very night.
He died... from nothing more than a night of drinking...
Why! Why did it have to be this way!?
This wasn't the release he was looking for, and it wasn't the future I wanted!
When I received the news that night, I refused to believe it was an accident. I went to the tavern. I questioned every witness inside. They all told me the same thing—everything had been normal. Nothing unusual. Just two strange men cheering and bonding over drinks!
That's when I knew—Masford had died at the hands of 'fate'!
But why?
Why did they have to meet? Why wasn't it Lake who died? Why did even the heavens favor the Sunset!
I wouldn't accept it. I refused. I hated it!
So I used Masford's death to scheme. I tricked Lake into coming to Morning Joy.
I was going to make Lake pay. Make the Sunset pay. Make the unfair hand of fate pay!
Morning Joy would not lose—and neither would I!"
Madame Freud's face contorted with hysteria. She looked around wildly at the two demons before her, blinked once, and was suddenly lucid. Then she crumpled again.
"But I've still lost... It's all gone...
There will never be another Morning Joy. And no one will remember a clown named Masford.
Kill me. I've lost any reason to go on living..."
Madame Freud collapsed in despair.
The two, now knowing the truth, felt no sympathy. Each furrowed their brows for different reasons.
Hu Wei was still scrutinizing whether Zhen Xin had switched personalities. Zhen Xin, meanwhile, had dropped her smile entirely, her expression turning gravely serious:
"This is bad. We've got a problem."
...