Chapter 273. Vengeance
In the shadowy, foul-smelling depths of the underground sewers, Margaret, huddled within the darkness, slowly opened her eyes.
With a metallic click, her copper pocket watch was flipped open as she checked the time. The decisive showdown would be in six hours. Her resolve hardened with each passing second.
Today was the day she would avenge her family.
Swann must die today!
"Gather everyone," Margaret ordered. "We'll meet at the platform."
A dark silhouette nodded faintly in her direction before rapidly vanishing into the darkness.
Margaret moved silently through the sewer tunnels. Gradually, the number of people trailing behind her started to grow. They all donned the same outfit—gray robes that blended seamlessly into the shadows.
There were no words exchanged. The only noises were the constant flow of sewage and their footsteps sloshing through the murky water.
Nestled in the corner, a mouse was nibbling on a lump of black object in its paws as its tiny eye observed the moving group.
The spacious underground sewage system branched in all directions. Margaret seemed to be familiar with its labyrinthine paths as she led her group to weave through twists and turns with swift, sure steps.
They turned from one tunnel into another, and at the end of this particular tunnel, a faint light was shining ahead of them.
As soon as they emerged from the tunnel, they found themselves in an expansive space.
Debris flowed with the black sewage water and cascaded like a waterfall into a vast abyss beneath. This was the largest sewage outlet of the Albion Isles, and the black hole led directly to the sea.
However, above the gaping hole, a massive platform had been erected. Every now and then, figures would emerge from the tunnels and gather on the platform.
There were both men and women in the crowd. Apart from the similar gray robes that they were clad in, they shared another similarity with Margaret: the intense hatred burning in their eyes.
With over a hundred supporters trailing behind her, Margaret silently took her place in a corner of the platform. Her hands clenched and unclenched nervously as she waited in anxiety.
When the platform was nearly filled to capacity, a resounding voice thundered through the crowd, "Brothers and sisters!"
Margaret looked up to see a man with a white beard addressing the crowd with enthusiasm. He was dressed in a tattered, blue and white striped sailor's uniform that hung loosely on his gaunt frame. Also, he had the largest group of followers behind him.
"We've gathered for vengeance! Swann, the man who murdered our families, seized our islands, and destroyed everything we hold dear! He. Must. Pay. With. His. Life!" the white-beared man declared.
His words weighed down heavily on everyone present, and their breathing grew labored.
"Now! This day has finally arrived! To avenge our loved ones, we must cast aside all reservations! Our own lives mean nothing in the face of this revenge! Vengeance!" the white-beared man roared.
His rallying cry was met with a chorus of determined shouts.
"Vengeance!"
"Vengeance!"
"Vengeance!"
Voices laced with killing intent echoed in the space, Margaret's voice included.
The white-beared man gestured his hand downward and silenced the crowd. His eyes scanned the sea of faces, and the moment he noticed Margaret, he paused for a brief moment.
"Everyone should know your assigned task by now. Swann is currently in the Governor's Mansion. We have only one chance. Failure is not an option! Be warned, if Swann survived this ordeal, none of us will live to see another day. Disperse!"
At the man's order, the crowd swiftly vanished into the myriad tunnels leading away from the platform. Everyone's eyes were filled with unwavering resolve.
As the crowd emptied, the platform was soon deserted.
The white-bearded man stared at the openings of the dark tunnels for a brief moment before he rolled up his sleeve to expose a festering wound oozing yellow-green pus.
"Sir Julio, they will take action today. However, Hope Island's fleet is nearby. I'm afraid there might be complications," the man said.
The wound that was the size of a baby's mouth pulsated grotesquely as it responded, "Charles? Don't worry about him. He's no friend of Swann and wouldn't assist him. Wait! Someone's watching in your nine o'clock!"
The man whirled around to find a mouse looking at him from a distance, its eyes glinting within the darkness.
Bang!
Instantaneously, the peeping mouse exploded into a grotesque display of splattering blood and flesh.
***
The central district of the Albion Isles was still bustling as usual, with well-dressed men and women strolling the streets.
There were no beggars from the harbor area, and neither were there child workers from the factories. Here, even the police officers appeared posh and elegant; it seemed like a different world from the outskirts.
Having changed into a flowing gown, Margaret navigated through the crowd.
Her slender waist was further accentuated by a corset made from the ribs of a pike and made her hourglass figure even more strikingly prominent. The ghastly scar on her face had been erased by some mysterious method, and her peerless visage drew the gazes of men.
Carrying a small purse, she epitomized the image of a noble lady.
As she felt the familiar tightness around her waist, Margaret had to hold in her tears as she was painfully reminded of her mother, who had committed suicide.
When she had been transitioning from a girl into a womanhood, she had often quarreled with her mother over wearing such constricting shapewear attire, but she had been forced into wearing one for every social event.
But this time, no one was forcing her any longer; she had chosen to wear it.
"Miss, you're so pretty," a young boy with large eyes exclaimed as he ran up to her and tugged at her sky-blue ruffled skirt.
Margaret turned around to see a woman rushing over with a small dog in her arms.
"I'm really sorry. My son's too mischievous," the woman quickly apologized.
Margaret flashed a kind smile, "It's okay. Your child is so adorable. Are you taking him out to play?"
If one were to carefully observe Margaret's eyes, one would realize that they were devoid of any warmth. Her beauty had not only captivated men but had also eased her way into women's circles.
"The governor's three wives are co-hosting a tea ceremony. I had to go to such an important event. It was so hard for me to get an invitation. Are you heading there as well? You're really beautiful," the woman said.
"Yes. I've been looking forward to this tea ceremony for a long time," Margaret replied with a slight smile. It didn't take long before the two women exchanged chats and laughter as they made their way toward the Governor's Mansion.
As Margaret and her new acquaintance were getting close to the Governor's Mansion, a truck loaded with cargo blocked their path. Recognizing the familiar faces from the platform inside the vehicle, Margaret tightened her grip on her elegant purse.
"Large vehicles are prohibited from parking at the entrance of the Governor's Mansion! Stop immediately!" a guard at the gate bellowed.
However, the truck seemed to have been agitated by the guard's words. The driver slammed his feet down on the accelerator and charged straight toward the grand entrance of the mansion.
Before the vehicle could cover more than a hundred meters, a bloody hole had appeared in the driver's head.
A towering guard was just about to rush toward the truck, but Margaret had already reached him from behind.
Her pale, long leg moved with such speed that it left a trail of afterimages. She struck his chest with a devastating force that instantly collapsed his ribcage.
The guard fell to the ground, and his life swiftly ebbed from him.
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