Visiting

A few days before flying to Paris, Beta received a call from Matilda. On the phone, the little girl stammered for a while before finally asking if he could accompany her to register at her new school.

"Leon's disappeared again?" Beta frowned, glancing at the wall clock. The sound of slippers shuffling came from the other end of the line. Clearly, the unreliable killer had once again left the 11-year-old girl alone in the apartment.

That afternoon, Beta loaded all of Matilda's luggage into the Cadillac. A pink suitcase, a backpack stuffed with stationery, and the potted plant she cherished were all placed in the trunk.

"Stay with me for now," he said to the girl. "John's been doing nothing but watching videotapes lately."

The arrival of this lively little girl injected vitality into the lifeless villa. John, who had been lost in memories all day, even got up early to prepare breakfast for her, a rare smile appearing on his face.

At that moment, Matilda was wolfing down toast spread with strawberry jam.

Beta slung her schoolbag over his shoulder. "We leave in five minutes, remember to tie your bow tie."

Crumbs fell as Matilda skipped towards the garage. As the door of the black SUV slammed shut, Beta caught a glimpse of the girl fumbling with her seatbelt in the rearview mirror, and his mood inexplicably brightened.

The large Cadillac slowly backed out of the garage, its tires crunching softly on the cobblestone driveway.

In the upscale neighborhood early in the morning, many parents were already driving their children to school. Various luxury cars lined up before the community gate, Porsches, Land Rovers, and Bentleys gleaming luxuriously in the morning light. Security guards in the guardhouse respectfully watched these expensive vehicles depart.

The morning rush hour traffic was relatively smooth. The private school Leon had chosen for Matilda, though expensive, was not a problem for a killer.

The Cadillac turned into the tree-lined avenue of the campus. Its rugged body stood out in the refined campus environment. Beta skillfully reversed the full-size SUV into a parking space, the large vehicle immediately filling the narrow spot.

As he turned off the engine, he saw a few children in the same school uniform looking at the black behemoth. The car was so large that its shadow could cover three or four children.

Matilda hopped out nimbly, and Beta casually draped her schoolbag over his own shoulder.

The school uniforms here showcased the meticulousness of elite education.

The light blue Oxford shirt on top was made of high-count cotton fabric, with a stiff Windsor collar embroidered with a subtle school crest, and the hem neatly tucked into the skirt. The gray straight skirt below was well-tailored, with the hem falling a few centimeters above the knee. Black knee-high socks were paired with reflective loafers.

Compared to the faded t-shirts and frayed jeans of public schools, every detail here delineated class.

Matilda, a girl who had witnessed her entire family's murder, had miraculously maintained a sunny disposition. She was as lively as a tireless cat, often daringly causing trouble, her bright eyes always sparkling with curiosity.

Perhaps it was because Leon had reached out to her when she was about to fall into the abyss, or perhaps it was the warmth given to her by those around her, but this girl, who should have been consumed by hatred, was more cheerful and better at interacting with others than many children from happy families.

Within ten minutes of entering the campus, Matilda had successfully captured her first "kindred spirit"—a girl with golden pigtails named Mindy McCurdy. The two little girls stood together, looking as similar as reflections in a mirror: both wearing neatly ironed uniforms; despite being little things, their eyes held a precocious shrewdness.

"Hello, I'm Mindy McCurdy," the little girl said, extending her hand formally. "Are you Matilda's dad?"

Beta leaned down slightly and gently squeezed her fingertips. "I'm her uncle, very happy to meet you."

Mindy flashed a sly smile identical to Matilda's. "Thank you!"

She turned and winked at Matilda, and the two little girls immediately huddled together, whispering secrets like two sparrows on a wire exchanging intelligence.

Beta carried Matilda's pink schoolbag on his back. This killer, capable of taking down a target from 3,800 meters away, was now unable to decipher the social rules of two little girls. They communicated with hushed laughter and exchanged knowing glances.

"We're here at the Headmaster's office!" Mindy said, turning around.

Beta looked at the gilded lettering "Headmaster" on the doorplate and turned to thank Mindy.

Mei Wa nodded her thanks to Doyle's secretary, a woman in a pencil skirt, who returned a professional smile and quietly left.

Inside the office, Doyle was slumped in his chair, like a soulless husk. The dark circles under his eyes were deeper than the last time they met, and even his meticulously combed silver hair looked dry and withered.

"Sit," Doyle's voice sounded strained.

Mei Wa locked the door from the inside, the metallic click echoing sharply in the silent office.

She walked slowly to the visitor's chair facing the sun and noticed Doyle tapping on a USB drive as she sat down.

Mei Wa tapped her fingertips on her knee. "So? The new lead the Chief Superintendent mentioned on the phone is this USB drive?"

Doyle's thin fingers caressed the metal casing, his fingertips repeatedly rubbing along the edges as he made his final calculations. A moment later, he pushed the USB drive towards Mei Wa, making a faint sound as it slid across the solid wood desk.

"Found among Eliot's belongings," Doyle said, his voice like sandpaper. "MI6 will definitely need this."

Mei Wa didn't reach for it. Her gaze was sharp. "Your demand is?"

"Blood for blood," Doyle slammed his hands onto the desk, making the pens jump. "Get justice for my son."

Silence fell in the office.

Mei Wa keenly sensed that this meeting was entirely different from their previous businesslike encounter. This Chief Superintendent's eyes held hatred this time.

She deliberately avoided the USB drive and asked instead, "Are there any other leads?"

Doyle's Adam's apple bobbed.

He hesitated. Would handing over that list cause a storm? But then he thought it through. What mattered wasn't how deep Mei Wa could dig, but to let "those people" know that he, Doyle, had handed a butcher's knife to MI6.

This game didn't require him to act personally. As long as the fuse was lit, someone would naturally fan the flames until certain people were completely removed from the table.

A glint flashed in Doyle's sunken eye sockets. The dying wolf bared its fangs.

"I also have a list here. The people on it are related to the entire Downing Street shooting incident."