Chapter 1412

Bernard’s question jolted Mr. Penrod from his reverie. With a lift of his gaze, he locked eyes with Bernard-the eyes that seemed to see right through everything.

“Indeed,” he said, “I thought to myself, maybe with your knife, taking down the Pines, the Stanleys, and the Lawrences would be more satisfying than doing it myself. After all, they’re your kin.”

Revenge-a vendetta like the one the Howards had-that endless cycle of blood for blood wouldn’t do. It had to be like slowly boiling three frogs in a pot over a low flame, making them turn on each other in their desperation.

If Yates was ruthless, Mr. Penrod was venomous, biding his time, orchestrating for years just to set this chessboard. And ironically, the pawns saw the chessmaster as family.

“At seven, beaten within an inch of my life, it was you who reached out, pulled me back from the brink. I thought it was salvation, not realizing it was all just part of your game.” Even suspecting he was a pawn, Bernard couldn’t help but feel the sting of disappointment, an emotion that seeped out, unable to be concealed.

All his life, with a father who didn’t care, a mother who wasn’t there, and a stepmother’s cruelty, even the grandfather who raised him did so only for his utility…

So at seven, when Mr. Penrod cradled a bloodied Bernard, whispering, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here. It’ll all get better,” he truly believed that he was his redemption, the life raft on his journey of growth, a foster father with genuine affection.

In his final moments, Mr. Penrod was indeed a fatherly figure, a mentor, the reason for Bernard’s tireless dedication to the Siren Organization. But now, as winter approached, the once savior morphed into a specter, encased in frost, forever chilling his heart.

only Bernard shrouded in darkness, an

in Bernard’s eyes, yet he seemed to

was quite satisfying. But…” Mr. Penrod paused, peering at the solitary and

out the Stanleys, but the Pines, even with my nudging from the shadows, only reached a stalemate, not

himself, but Bernard had

this point, Mr. Penrod, why bother with

truth. “Yes, even if I don’t tell you, you would find out. So, it’s better that give

sense of loss, leaned back on the couch and gestured with a tilt

Laurence heirs; none can hold a candle to you. I was thinking, without you, the Laurences would probably fall into decline before long, right? And that’s precisely when Yates would make his move. I reckon, if you were to die

casual, as if discussing

as chilling as being in the Arctic,

always known who the founder of Area Opaca was, yet you let me walk into a

off the suggestion with a flick

to massacre our members en masse, I recalled the Darkness and suspected Yates was the

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