TB

CHAPTER 141

 
The bus arrived. Leon watched from beyond the car window as Grace disappeared inside, followed by McGill.

“Follow it.”

At his command, the driver began to follow the bus. His gaze remained fixed on the bus winding through the rural roads, deep in thought.

Today was historic. The day would be recorded in the annals of history as the Blackburn stronghold of the Blanchard rebels fell, and in Leon Winston’s history, it would be noted as the day he forever conquered the fortress named Grace Riddell.

He had rented a suite in a nearby hotel in advance, a place where the weary, cold, and tired woman could rest fully. He planned to pop champagne, holding her in his arms tonight.

The deployment of troops was already complete.

Blackburn village was effectively surrounded. Some soldiers, disguised as travelers, had finished assessing the internal situation. The village was in a festive mood, anticipating Christmas Eve. They were completely off guard.

The military had been informed of Grace’s description and was advised that she was a double agent not to be attacked and to be protected as a top priority upon sighting.

With all preparations in place, only the final step before launching the clean-up operation remained.

Grace Riddle’s betrayal.

Leon had long awaited the moment when that woman would become a traitor in front of hundreds of her comrades.

Whether you love me or not, all you’ll have left is me.

As that moment drew nearer, he found it hard to suppress his laughter.

Grace. Once a calamity, now a grace, as her name suggested.

Leon smiled, promising to gladly offer everything he had to the woman who gave him the best Christmas gift. It was a smile of premature victory.

The bus continued, passing familiar landscapes.

Dense pine forests, moss-covered roofs, sheep grazing on hillside pastures, and the river shimmering in the sunset light. Not long after crossing the old iron bridge over the river, the pointed spire of a church began to appear beyond the forest. It was a place she had grown tired of seeing almost her entire life.

The bus came to a stop. Only two passengers got off at the secluded station.

[ Welcome to Blackburn. ]

Grace passed the old sign at the village entrance and walked on without hesitation. From afar, the sound of bells and carols floated.

As houses began to appear, strings decorated with colorful fabric scraps crossed overhead. The cold air carried hints of cookies and wine, the festive ambiance she always longed for.

As she approached the square where the church was, she encountered villagers one by one. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at her in surprise. It was supposed to be a holiday for returning home, yet no one welcomed her back.

Home?

Grace burst into laughter.

What a joke. Nobody ever considered her family or a comrade.

Suddenly, the term ‘comrade’ seemed so ridiculous, and she laughed again.

They pursued equality within the revolutionary group, calling each other comrades, as their goal was to create a world where everyone was equal. Nevertheless, the right to sit at the leadership round table was reserved only for certain families, the main players of the past revolution.