Prince of Roses | ONC 2024

Epilogue

International Police Headquarters

France

7 February, 10:49

Never get attached to anything or anyone. The job is easier that way.

That's the first thing Lucas Tan ever learned when he was indoctrinated in Poison Grove. It prevents your performance from being affected, they said. Whether because of your targets or the job itself, which is taxing, to say the least. It does help, if only for a while.

Because of it, he's experienced many things. He's gone through more pain than anyone in one lifetime. He's done deeds that made robbers or kidnappers look like saints.

He's a survivor. He's a criminal. He should probably be dead because of either, but he isn't.

He wishes he was.

"Can you tell me anything about this person?"

Someone tosses a set of pictures in front of him. The pictures, printed in plain paper, slide across the metal table just close enough for his handcuffed hands to reach.

Lucas doesn't look at the pictures. At least not directly, because he already knows what they are. Who they depict. A girl around his age who seemingly fell into a deep sleep.

A girl who was now dead because of him.

"Aspen Mendoza," Lucas says, the name scorching his tongue. His voice doesn't break—he tries not to. "Interpol agent. Likes mango drinks and is good with a gun. She got killed by a biogenetically-made foxglove poison."

The man before him, Officer Sharma or Detective Sharma or whatever he calls himself, sets his lips into a thin line. He then throws in another set of pictures.

Lucas doesn't even bother looking away from the detective. "Foxglove and Azalea. I don't know their real names. Prince of Roses punctured their throats so they all bleed to death."

"So you admit you're the infamous assassin Prince of Roses?"

A bitter laugh escapes Lucas' mouth. "Do I? What do I look like to you?"

Lucas had always thought he had immunity over poisons, but it seems that there are exceptions. The thorns haven't gone away, just as Foxglove promised when she injected her poison into his system. They still dig above his skin for all to see.

When Azalea realized why he had come to the Philippines, she decided to take a 'detour' and visit his parents like he initially planned. Things just got worse when Foxglove intercepted them. Lucas resisted, and he got poisoned because of it anyway.

He always thought he was a monster. Well, thanks to her, he quite looks the part now.

By the time he got through Foxglove and saw a dead Lily downstairs just as Aspen said, local police had arrived on the scene and arrested him. His parents barely hid their fear and disgust.

He then spent a whole day in a local jail before getting shipped to Interpol's main headquarters in France. No one dared touch him, as though his thorns were contagious.

Surprisingly, none of the judgment hurt as much as he thought it would. Unlike everyone else who laid eyes on him so far though, the detective stares at him with no judgment. The only sign of emotion in him is a crease on his forehead.

"I still have to ask you these questions," he clarifies. "Standard procedure."

"Right," Lucas says sarcastically. "I suppose I should just spit out a confession and get done with it."

Detective Sharma makes an incredulous noise. "Trust me, you're nowhere near done. Just getting started, you and me and the ones you've killed to get here."

Of course. He still has to answer for his crimes as an assassin to an illegal organization.

Lucas knows he should be panicking—perhaps even afraid—of the situation he is in. But surprisingly, he only feels the need to itch the literal thorns in his sides.

His parents must be so worried about him. They can try to bail him out, but there's no way Interpol will let him walk free. Not when he's the only connection they got from Poison Grove, an organization Interpol has been trying to shut down for years.

The door slams open, making Lucas jump from his uncomfortable seat. A man stomps inside. For a moment, Lucas thinks he's been poisoned again and is hallucinating, but no. He's looking at a near-spitting image of Aspen Mendoza.

The newcomer fists Lucas' collar, his eyes fueled with fury. "Son of a bitch."

"Stand down, Mendoza," Sharma says.

So maybe he's not hallucinating. Aspen has a brother he didn't know about.

Mendoza ignores the detective. "You're the one who should've died, not her. To think that she even defended your sorry ass. I swear I'm going to make you pay for what you've don—"

"I said stand down." Sharma pries Mendoza away from Lucas, giving the former a stern look. "You better know I'll kick your ass out regardless of your little promotion. Now, out. You'll get your turn with him soon enough."

The newcomer takes another good look at Lucas before stomping back to where he came from, slamming the door behind him. He can still feel the heat of Mendoza's wrath waving off of him. But something else is rising to the surface, and he can't fucking name it.

Aspen defended him? Even though she knew his secrets, even though they barely knew each other, she still thought of him as someone who didn't do anything wrong. Maybe not an innocent man, but she thought of him as nothing less than a person. How should he even react to that?

Sharma runs a hand through his beard. "Listen here, kid. You just cost me a good agent and that man a sister. You're going to want to help us if you even want to have your life sentence cut by at least a few years."

Lucas lets out a quiet snort. It's either spending time in prison or getting a visit from the Grove. And he doesn't give a fuck if any of those things happen.

"By all means," Lucas says, "how can I be of service to Interpol?"

"By telling us everything you know about Poison Grove." Sharma rests his hands on the table, looking at Lucas square in the eye. "Their location, their ways of operation. Their members. Their leader. Everything."

Joke's on him, all their members are dead. Except for him if it counts.

One thing Aspen's brother was right about: Lucas deserves to die. The Grove's going to get him, and it definitely will sooner or later. And he might as well do something before then: break the organization that destroyed his life once and for all.

THE END