Important people-who really counted as an important person?
The eighth prince? Everything had begun because of him, yet he knew nothing about any of it. He had never even been to New Scandinavia.
Garrett? Building this theater had merely been an offhand suggestion of his. The people beneath him had taken it upon themselves to do everything.
The Troy Society's manager? He had indeed done many evil things, and he deserved to die, but he was only a manager. He hardly qualified as an important person.
So much suffering, so many deaths, so many lives changed, and in the end, the reason was this absurd?
Vanessa drew her knife and slit the manager's throat. Blood sprayed across the cold tiles.
Garrett screamed in fright. Vanessa kicked him in the stomach, cutting his scream short and leaving only terrified whimpers.
He knelt on the floor, crying and begging for mercy over and over. "Don't kill me, don't kill me! I don't know anything! I didn't do anything!!"
Vanessa raised her gun and aimed it at him.
All she had to do was pull the trigger, and the revenge she had always wanted, the assassination she had always wanted to carry out, would be complete. But at this moment, what filled her chest was not hatred or satisfaction, but bewilderment.
What had all these sacrifices been for?
It seemed everyone was being pulled along by invisible strings, that no one had done anything wrong, that there was no "important person" behind the scenes, that everything had merely been an accident. But Winnie, the East District, those countless lives like fireflies-were they simply to vanish so lightly?
Vanessa kept her gun trained on Garrett, yet she could not pull the trigger. That bewilderment bound her like chains, leaving her unable to do anything.