Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1178

Irene often found herself mesmerized by his face, but she never reached out to touch him. Jaired, too, kept his distance. Between them was the lingering ghost of the tragically lost 001.

He watched as Irene descended into madness, her actions growing more erratic until she finally entangled herself with Kenzo. Jaired knew, from the night he learned the truth, that the Irene he once knew was gone; she had become a mere puppet.

In Kenzo, Irene found a kindred spirit, someone else willing to abandon their soul and become a marionette. Together, in their isolation, they found a twisted companionship. Kenzo, with his keen insight, saw right through her facade. They weren't heartless; they had simply agreed to embrace destruction.

So, they indulged in their final moments of pleasure, unopposed. Irene might have hesitated once, on the night she considered removing the switchblade from her wrist, pondering whether to stop her descent into chaos. But the next day, the blade was back on her wrist. She chose destruction because she couldn't forget 001. Kenzo, too, chose destruction, still yearning for Brielle.

In their mutual abandonment, they found an unexpected harmony. They played games, testing each other. Irene was grateful for Kenzo's presence; he was skilled, attractive, and a long-time acquaintance of Jaired's, which gave her the added satisfaction of irking Jaired. Kenzo, on the other hand, appreciated Irene, who, even as he made a deal with the devil and lost himself, aligned with his every thought. She didn't expose him even when she realized he had cut a piece of his own flesh.

When he hastily returned the blood-stained blade to her, she knew he couldn't bring himself to do it. Irene cleaned the blade in the dark room, sterilizing it over and over. She thought herself crazier than Kenzo. Kenzo couldn't kill Brielle, but she had personally killed 001. A hundred times. For ten years.

001's memory tormented her, leaving her trapped between humanity and specter. But now, the place that birthed this demon was to be destroyed. She had planted explosives, indifferent to whether it would trigger a landslide, only wanting to draw the attention of several nations. The indiscriminate military assault from these nations would ensure nothing remained, landslide or not. She was tired, so she embraced madness one last time.

Irene wanted to light a cigarette, to continue her habit as the storm raged around her, lightning illuminating her tears. "Jaired, it's been ten years, and I still remember. Is destroying this place the only way I'll forget?"

Jaired grasped her wrist, his voice hoarse with sorrow, "It's my fault."

Irene chuckled lightly, "You ask if it's enough. I feel it is now. I don't want to leave; I want to stay here. You go."

Her tone was indifferent, like the shelter they sought from the rain was about to collapse. "Okay, I'll go."

Jaired stood up, but as she bent to pick up her cigarette again, he knocked her out. Irene hadn't anticipated it, or perhaps, after hearing his agreement to leave, she had let her guard down, allowing him to succeed so easily.

With guilt-ridden eyes, Jaired carried

her through the crumbling compound. His guilt made him incapable of refusing any of Irene's commands, even if it meant killing Brielle. He owed it to her. But his guilt also led him to betray the

base's location to Max.

His request was simple; always tasked with dangerous missions, he wondered what would happen if he died like 001. He needed Max's power to ensure that, even in death, Irene would survive. Then, she wouldn't need to be a leader or remember 001.

As Jaired carried Irene away, he also

found Kenzo who had never

intended to survive. If he couldn't hypnotize Brielle into loving him, he'd rather they both die. But instinctively, he tried to protect her from falling debris, only to feel his heart shatter when Brielle pushed him away.

Did he not understand love? Why was Max's coercion acceptable, but

not his own love? He was the first to

meet her yet at that moment, he a profound sadness and helplessness. If she loved him,4 He could overcome any obstacle, abandon everything-family,

felt

friendships. But her indifference left

him powerless.

People said he was deep, but what had his depth achieved? He could have left in six months, but jealousy clouded his judgment. Given another chance, he would never accept that string of sugar-coated haws.