Shadow Slave

Chapter 2519: Deserving the Truth

There was a long stretch of silence. Mordret was enjoying the snack that Morgan had given him, while Saint was simply staring at her. Amused by her aloof gaze, Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"What? Do you want to say something, Dr. Saint?"

The stunning woman did not speak for a while, then shook her head slightly. "Why don't you dispel his delusion, then? Go and tell them the supposed truth. Make him confront reality, if you really believe that this world is an illusion."

Morgan smiled faintly.

"I think not. That... would be too cruel, even for me."

Saint let out a joyless laugh.

"Funny, that. What an unexpected display of empathy... weren't you planning to kill him, Miss Morgan?"

Hearing that, Mordret stirred a little. He studied Morgan for a few seconds, then smiled tranquilly and returned to his food as if nothing had happened.

Morgan frowned at Saint, but did not respond. Instead, she looked away.

Her expression seemed troubled for a brief moment, even if she hid it almost immediately.

Some time later, she pursed her lips and scoffed.

"You are not wrong. Sure, what the hell... let me at least get something useful out of him, while there is still time."

Walking over to where Mordret was finishing his meal, she sat down on the bench opposite him and studied his face with a dark expression.

"You heard everything, didn't you?"

Mordret gave her another smile.

"I did. I can't say that I am not concerned about your mental state, Morgan... but at least you are talking to your doctor. That is good."

Morgan smiled dangerously.

"You won't admit anything unless I force you, I guess?"

He blinked a few times, seemingly confused.

"Admit what?"

Morgan remained silent for a long while. Then, she sighed.

"The Morgan you know is a soft, sweet girl from an affluent family — a little bit spoiled and a little bit arrogant at times, but overall mundane. The real Morgan, however... me... is not mundane. I am Transcendent. And therefore, I possess both an Aspect and a Flaw. Do you want to know what my Flaw is, dear brother?" Ṛ𝔞Νo͍ꞖƐṡ

She took off her gloves slowly, then reached forward and took the water bottle from his hand. Her fingers seemed to leave scratches on the transparent plastic.

"It's that I cut everything I touch. A very troublesome trait, as you can imagine... can't say that it hasn't led to an accident or two, some more regrettable than the others."

She slid her index finger across the plastic bottle, and it suddenly fell apart, splashing water onto the floor.

Mordret stared at the cleanly cut bottle incredulously.

"That... is a neat trick! Was that a prop bottle?"

Morgan smiled in response to his lively expression.

"See, there are two possibilities in front of you now. One is that I am a mundane woman suffering from a mental illness. The other is that I am a Saint cursed by a cruel Flaw. You cling to the former and pretend to be ignorant of the latter... but let me help you admit the truth."

Morgan dropped the lower half of the severed bottle.

"Here. I'll give you a choice..."

She lingered for a few moments, her breathing growing heavier, then slowly raised her hand and pressed her index finger lightly against the tender skin of her slender neck.

As if prepared to drag her fingertip across it, mimicking slitting her own throat.

Her smile widened a little, and the hue of her stunning scarlet eyes seemed to turn a little darker.

"I am immune to my Flaw, usually... but that is only because of my Rank. Funnily enough, now that I am in a mundane body, my own flesh is not durable enough to withstand the sharp edge of my Flaw."

Her gaze turned colder all of a sudden.

"If you still insist on believing that I am delusional, then there is nothing to fear. But if you know that I am telling the truth and don't do anything... then you will watch me die."

Mordret was still watching her with a pleasant smile.

However, his smile seemed to falter for a split second.

Morgan closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and then slowly opened them again.

"Doing anything will be as good as admitting the truth. So what will it be, dear brother?"

Before Mordret could respond, she put pressure on her finger. Her muscles tensed subtly, showing that she was ready to drag it forcefully across her neck. The finger slid a few centimeters to the right...

But then, it stopped, because Mordret's hand had shot forward to grab her by the wrist.

A few drops of blood rolled down her slender neck.

Mordret remained motionless for a few seconds, looking at Morgan with panicked eyes, then drew a shallow breath and slowly pulled her hand away from her neck.

Morgan smiled, a hint of sadness appearing in her scarlet eyes.

"And there it is. Admission."

Mordret released her wrist and lowered his shaking hand, then looked down with a rattled expression.

After a few moments of silence, he said softly: "Why would you do that?"

Pulling a luxurious silk pocket square out of his breast pocket, Mordret pressed it gently against the small cut on her neck.

"Please, don't hurt yourself."

Seemingly indifferent to his soft touch, Morgan stared at him somberly for a while. Eventually, she spoke in an even tone:

"The last time you saw me was when I was what... two years old? And I don't remember you at all. Why do you even care?"

Mordret smiled sadly.

"Because you are my sister, Morgan."

Then, he looked away and let out a sigh. "But... you are not my Morgan, are you?"

Her sharp gaze finally lost some of its intensity.

Morgan studied Mordret for a few seconds. "Indeed."

Then, she suddenly laughed brightly and looked at Saint.

"Would you look at that? A complete recovery... it's a miracle! Thank you for the advice, Dr. Saint. Oh my, you really are the best psychiatrist in Mirage City..."