Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1173

King's clothes were drenched by the relentless rain, the bloodstains washed away. He coldly let Kenzo go, not wasting another second on him, and rushed over to Brielle, who lay unconscious. He cradled her close. Brielle's head was bleeding, and even as the rain washed it away, fresh crimson seeped through. King wanted to press down on the wound but couldn't figure out where it was exactly. His fingertips trembled uncontrollably. "Brielle?" he called out, but there was no response. King's eyes instantly reddened, holding her tightly against him.

From above, a ladder descended from the helicopter, and Dustin shouted, "Come on, hurry up!"

The ground beneath them was slipping away, soon to be engulfed by mud if they didn't get out of there immediately. King grabbed the ladder but realized in his panic that he lacked the strength to hold onto Brielle. He held her close, bit down hard on his tongue to regain some strength, and climbed the ladder with her in his arms.

Below, the conflict raged on, not just among their group and the organization but now with forces from neighboring countries involved, making it impossible to distinguish friend from foe.

Once inside the helicopter, King, eyes rimmed red, looked at Dustin. "Is she... is she dead? Can you feel her breath?"

Dustin's fingertips trembled too, the fear evident even among the two grown men. As Dustin felt the faintest breath from Brielle, his eyes welled up. "She's alive. Let's get out of here. The fight's escalated with other countries joining in; indiscriminate attacks make it too dangerous.'

Knowing Brielle was still alive, King's heart settled, and he buried his face in her neck, relieved. But then, the helicopter jolted. The battle below was fierce, compounded by the rain reducing visibility and gunfire erupting from all sides.

Mudslides began to erupt below,

transforming the area into a

veritable hell on earth. Helicopters in the sky engaged in dogfights, Dustin grabbing a gun and firing at the assailants in other helicopters. But their helicopter had been hit, the glass shattering, the rotors screeching ominously.

King held Brielle tightly, refusing to think of anything else. If they were to die here, they'd die together.

The helicopter soon crashed into the mudslide, with large trees smashing onto it. If the tree turned over without anything to support them, they would be dragged down by the mud, certain death awaiting.

King pushed Brielle towards Dustin.

"Bro, take her and go." He braced himself against the falling tree, his chest aching. Memories of using his arm to block a falling beam suddenly flashed through his mind, his body stiffening. The situation was eerily similar to that time.

Memories concerning Max flooded

in.

Brielle, semi-conscious, opened her eyes to see the man buried halfway, her body freezing. Struck by a stone, her head filled with painful, confusing memories, feeling almost at the brink of explosion, but instinctively, she reached out and grabbed King's hand.

"Max," she uttered, her head throbbing with pain.

King remained silent, realizing that even in the face of death, she thought of Max. Always Max. In her world, he was superfluous. Even amidst the chaos of life and death, he couldn't elicit a word of affection, of care from her.

Brielle's head hurt too much to

ponder over anything else. The most

sel.r

vivid, painful memory was of letting go of him in a fire, only to realize that without him, living was more tormenting than death. This time, no matter what, she wouldn't let go. If they were to die, they'd die together.

She clung to King's hand, her hair plastered to her cheeks, appearing fragile and pale. "King," she called, not Max. "Together, we leave or live."