High Driving Difficulty Coefficient, Not Recommended for Beginners

Wesley frowned deeply and instinctively refused, "I don't know what you're talking about. My father's death..."

"He died in agony!"

Russell cut Wesley off and patted his own elbow. "The process was too bloody, I won't go into details. I don't know what Sloan told you, but I'm sure you never investigated this."

Wesley fell silent. He really hadn't investigated it.

In fact, just as he was about to look into it, Sloan stopped him, claiming it was to keep him from walking into a Cross ambush.

Russell continued, "There's plenty of evidence that I killed Big Slick. If you'd actually investigated, you'd find my wanted notice still hanging in the police station. Maybe Sloan can tamper with police files, but he can't erase the memories of those witnesses. Put a gun to their heads, and you'll learn the truth."

Wesley was left speechless, forcing a rebuttal: "That's just your side of the story. Who knows if it's true or false? Unless you let me go and I find out the truth myself, I can't believe you."

"Kid, don't try your tricks on me. That act of yours is way too naive."

"Even if what you said is true, what does it prove?" Wesley glanced at Cross and pressed on, "He tried to kill me several times. How do you explain that?"

Russell slapped Wesley on the forehead. "Idiot, he was trying to save you, to keep you away from the Brotherhood's assassins. And if he really wanted you dead, why are you still alive?"

"He wanted to use me, to impersonate my father and make me fight the Brotherhood!"

Wesley pieced together a plausible excuse, and whether Russell believed it or not, he believed it himself.

Russell sneered. "Have you ever considered that the ones using you are the Brotherhood, making you fight your own biological father?"

"..."

Wesley fell silent. He'd muddled through over twenty years of life without a strong will of his own, and now he didn't know who to trust.

Russell gave Wesley a long, hard look and nodded toward Cross. "Don't you have any proof that you're Wesley's real father?"

Cross's eyes lit up. "Yes, plenty. I have photos of Wesley from childhood to now, all in my bedroom."

Russell covered his face with his hand. "Then go get them. If you'd brought them out earlier, none of this would've happened!"

Cross sprinted out of the workshop. Just then, Wesley heard the familiar sound of a light rail train. It was faint due to soundproofing, but Wesley knew it too well. He realized his location wasn't far from home.

Five minutes later, Cross came running back, panting heavily, clutching over a dozen photo albums. Wesley's face went pale. He started to believe.

The reason was simple: Cross had been living near his home all along, or he wouldn't have returned so fast.

Cross spread out the albums and pointed at the photos like a proud collector. "Wesley, this is your newborn photo..."

"This is you on your elementary school soccer team. I thought you'd become an athlete..."

"This is your elementary school graduation. I took it from a corner..."

"This is..."

"..."

"And this, this is your birth certificate. I've always treasured it!"

Watching Cross ramble on like some creepy uncle, tears welled up in Wesley's eyes. The affection in Cross's gaze was something he'd only ever seen in other people's parents. Ever since his mother died, he'd been craving that look.

Wesley lowered his head, choking back sobs. Thinking about how he'd nearly killed his own father, his emotions churned, and tears wouldn't stop. Cross, flustered as ever, dropped the albums from his hands. He reached out to hug Wesley, hesitated, pulled back, and stood there foolishly crying along with him.

Russell's eyes dimmed as unpleasant memories surfaced. He curled his lip, walked over to Fire Fox, grabbed her hair, and tilted her head up.

"Stop pretending to be asleep. Your breathing gave you away. Since you're awake, tell Wesley who his real father is."

Fire Fox's eyelashes fluttered. She opened her eyes, brimming with murderous intent, and spat a bloody wad at Russell.

Russell dodged, turning his head aside, then pressed Fire Fox's head down to make her look at Wesley.

Facing Wesley's disbelieving stare, Fire Fox closed her eyes. She didn't dare look at him, which was as good as admitting it all.

By then, Cross had untied Wesley's ropes. The father and son hugged, patting each other's backs. What really grated on Russell was seeing the top-tier assassin Cross pull a handkerchief from his pocket and blow his nose with a loud honk.

Wesley, eyes still wet with tears, approached Fire Fox. The pain in his heart was beyond words. He couldn't believe the goddess he loved would push him to kill his own father.

"You knew all this, so why did you lie to me? Do you have any idea how much I trusted you... loved you?"

Wesley's voice trembled, but Fire Fox was resolute. She opened her eyes and said coldly, "Because only you could kill Cross!"

"That's your shitty reason?"

"Cross betrayed the Brotherhood. His name appeared on the Loom. Even if it took the most despicable methods, he had to die."

Wesley was stunned into silence. He knew the Brotherhood's creed: kill one to save a thousand. At first, he didn't get it, but later he understood the deeper meaning. A name on the Loom of Fate meant that person was destined to be a great evil. Now he was conflicted again—turns out his own dad wasn't a good guy.

"Sloan lied to all of you!"

Cross patted Wesley's shoulder and glanced at Fire Fox. "Including you. He deceived everyone..."

With that, Cross recounted the events leading to his defection from the Brotherhood.

Sloan had forged assassination lists for his own gain. Cross discovered Sloan's name on the Loom and, after investigating, uncovered the conspiracy. Fearing exposure, Sloan preemptively forged Cross's name on the list and issued a kill order, setting off the whole chain of events.

Wesley chose to believe Cross without hesitation. Fire Fox scoffed, snorting in contempt, dismissing it as sophistry. To prove himself, Cross pulled out a small piece of fabric he always carried. On it was binary code visible only under a magnifying glass. Decoded, it revealed the names of those marked for assassination.

Wesley took the magnifying glass and slowly deciphered the binary code, eventually arriving at Sloan's name. He felt sick. If Sloan had been forging lists all along, had any of the people he'd killed been innocent?

Fire Fox grew uneasy. She didn't know whether Cross had faked the assassination list, but her faith was shaken, and she couldn't stay calm.

Russell snatched the decoded name from Wesley and waved it in front of Fire Fox, prodding her raw nerves. "Suppose Sloan is the one who betrayed the Brotherhood. Then you're an accomplice, an executioner. How many people have you killed over the years? How many innocent souls among them?"

Fire Fox roared and struggled to stand, the ropes creaking under the strain. Russell grabbed a rag stained with black grease and stuffed it into her mouth.

Fire Fox glared, twin flames of fury blazing in her eyes. Russell felt a chill in his crotch and looked away, whistling.

Wesley couldn't bear it: "Wait, she's a victim too—Sloan kept her in the dark the whole time. Maybe we can win her over..."

Russell raised an eyebrow: "Kid, I know you like her, but she's not for you. If I'm not mistaken, Sloan gave her orders—after you take out the Cross, she's the one to finish you off."

Wesley nodded, acknowledging it: "That doesn't matter. She didn't know then. She won't now."

With that, Wesley moved to untie the ropes binding Fire Fox. He'd just freed her right foot when she landed a groin kick right on target. He went pale and crumpled to his knees.

Russell found it amusing: "I told you, she's not for you!"

Wesley lay on the ground, legs trembling, yet still unrepentant: "I... I think she's... not bad. Just needs a little time to get used to."

Face to face with his goddess, a simp never learns.

Failure Diary

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