Better Luck in Next Life

Chapter 9. Aisha

The following day, I volunteered for the catering service at Martin's college campus.

"Hey, Aisha. You dropped out in the second year, right? You must be struggling with life," one of my graduate classmates said.

I replied in a dramatic way, "Life is unpredictable. Unassumable. It fills one's cup and leaves another cup empty."

"Hey, you surprised me," Martin said.

I replied while serving him, "Yeah, life plays different games with me. And I'm enjoying it."

He asked, "Have you met dad yet?"

He served another plate for me and pulled me to share a meal with him.

"Not yet. I don't want to."

"Wait a minute. Why do you have scars on your neck?"

"It's... from the choker I wore at the last party. It was way too tight. But it matched with the dress."

"By the way, dad is going to stay here for a long time. You better stay away from his sight."

"Is it some project?"

"He's looking for another tender. Okay, I'm getting late for the ceremony."

"What ceremony?"

"A funeral ceremony. Dad said he's well-honored in society. But he was shot dead by Luke Addison at the party. Wait, you went there. Did you -"

"I didn't enter. I returned before getting involved in those aristocracies." (a small pause) "Hey, mind if I tag along?"

"Why? What's on your mind? Don't let Luke distract you."

"The sooner I approach, the better for you."

"But..."

"I'll be fine. Plus, you'll be around. If I feel uneasy, I'll call you for help. Don't you think it's better this way than riding alone."

"Okay."

"Alright, I'll be waiting for you at home."

"I'll be in the same car as dad."

"Oh."

"I'll send another car for you."

I dressed in a suit, not for exaggeration, but I don't have any black formal attire. There was one, but it burnt down in the candle flame during a power outage.

At the venue, it seemed more like a gathering of affluent families than a funeral ceremony.
I received a text from Martin, instructing me to call him in case of an emergency.

"Hey, Missy. I seem to find you everywhere I go."

I turned to see the same man. I said, "I won't let you misinterpret my arrival, so I'll be honest. After I heard about this in the news, I came here to meet you."

"Good."

"Can we talk somewhere with fewer people around?"

He gestured for me to follow his lead. His broad shoulders were enough to shield me from dad. After he performed the rituals, we entered a private room.

I took a deep breath and suggested, "How about a game of Russian roulette?"

He leaned back in the chair, crossed his legs, and rubbed his chin with his fingers. His intense stare sent shivers down my spine. I looked away to calm myself down. He uttered, "Okay."

He retrieved his gun from his back pocket and spin it in between his fingers. A waitress approached to ask for a drink, but he shot her dead at that very moment.

Hearing the commotion, two middle-aged women and two teen waitresses hurried into the room. Shocked, they stood frozen. He once again pulled the trigger, shooting all four. Five people struggling for their lives on the floor. I stared in disbelief, paralyzed by shock. When the first waitress ceased moving, reality hit. I attempted to step forward to call for help but was forcefully pulled back by him. He tightly gripped my hand, preventing me from escaping.

"Let them suffer a little. It's their final torment. They will be free forever." His stern tone carried no pity.

He called Evan. The latter arranged another room near the hall. He dragged me there.

"This is the first time I've rattled you."

He placed the gun, containing only one bullet, on the table. He said, "You know the rules, I guess. Well, let me explain once more. The person the gun points to will be asked a question. If they don't want to answer, they will pull the trigger. Are you ready to challenge your luck?"

First spin.
I inquired, "Why did you kill them? I don't think they had any enmity with you."

He responded, "I helped them find peace in their lives. They were all family-three sisters, their mom, and their aunt. Their father was an alcohol addict. Upon returning home, he abused them. They were burdened with loans, likely indebted in this life. Recently, their father was diagnosed with liver cancer, fourth stage. He will die soon. And you know, those who are left behind suffer more than death. By the way, I never let my bullets go unused."

His reasoning may make sense to people like me, but to normal individuals, he would appear as a lunatic. That's precisely why I'm compelled to pursue him.