THE FOOL Chapter 34: Purge

As I finally cald myself, Katherine pointed towards sothing—or rather, soone—she had just noticed.

A waiter.

He was carrying a bottle of what appeared to be expensive wine, preparing to serve the VIPs. He was still at the back of the stage, not yet visible to the crowd.

Before I could even react, Katherine moved.

Fast.

She launched herself downward, gripping onto a tal pole by the side of the platform to accelerate her descent. In re seconds, she landed silently behind the waiter, blocking his path.

I was stunned.

I had never seen her move like that before.

It was effortless, precise—nothing like the playful, teasing woman I had known up until now. It was a side of Katherine I had never truly realized existed.

The waiter startled, nearly dropping the wine as he took a step back. Before he could cry out, Katherine closed the distance between them, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

Then she whispered sothing.

I couldn't hear it from where I stood, but whatever she said sent an imdiate and visceral reaction through the man's body.

His face turned ashen, his hands trembling violently. Without hesitation, he handed over the bottle of wine and removed his waiter's jacket, pressing it into Katherine's hands as if offering his very life.

Then—without looking back—he ran.

I didn't know what she told him, but it was enough to break him.

Katherine smirked and shot a quick signal.

It was my turn to move.

I made my way down, following her path, though it was far from the graceful display she had just perford. Instead of gliding down with control, I landed with a dull thud, my knees slightly buckling on impact.

Katherine raised a brow. "Not bad," she teased, though there was amusent in her voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."

She tossed the waiter's jacket to . "Put this on," she instructed. "We're getting closer to the stage."

Katherine looked at seriously, her expression unreadable.

I t her gaze and spoke with unwavering determination.

"No matter what happens, I will never regret what I'm about to do. And I will never let any of these people walk out of here alive."

Katherine remained silent, observing carefully.

"Watch closely, Katherine," I continued. "Tonight, you'll witness what The Fool is truly capable of."

She didn't say anything, but I could tell she was holding back a smile.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small cutter, then rolled up my sleeve. Without hesitation, I sliced a shallow cut on my forearm, watching as dark red blood dripped from the wound.

Katherine's eyes widened slightly, intrigued.

I grabbed the bottle of expensive red wine we had taken from the waiter and poured a small amount onto the ground. Then, I held my bleeding arm over the bottle, letting drops of my cursed blood mix with the liquid inside.

Katherine stepped closer, watching curiously.

I looked at her and warned, "Stay away from once this starts. You cannot—under any circumstances—let my blood touch you."

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "And why is that?"

I smirked. "Because if it does, you'll die."

Silence.

Then, instead of fear, I saw excitent flash across Katherine's face.

She chuckled softly. "You really are a monster..." Then she grinned, tilting her head slightly. "My monster."

I ignored her teasing and handed her the second bottle of untouched wine.

"Get into position," I instructed. "Once the cursed wine is served, we wait."

Katherine gave a mocking salute before disappearing into the shadows.

I straightened the waiter's jacket I had stolen and calmly stepped forward.

I quickly moved around the hall, serving wine to every VIP present.

Even though my rage boiled inside as I saw each of these disgusting n sitting comfortably with their chosen won—each one trembling in fear and trauma—I forced myself to endure it.

I made sure every single glass was filled, including the one belonging to the VIP who had Lara beside him.

It took everything in to keep my composure, to stop myself from lashing out right then and there. But I knew I had to be patient.

Once I had successfully served them all, I swiftly retreated backstage, where Katherine was waiting.

She imdiately noticed the burning fury on my face and the way I clenched my fists.

She smirked. "I'm proud of you, Daniel. That was impressive."

I didn't respond—I was too focused.

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "No matter what happens, don't look back."

I glanced at her, confused.

She gave a knowing look. "You don't want to see what else they're doing to those won. Just wait for the right mont."

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to stay calm.

And then, it was ti.

The host stood up once more, raising his glass. The VIPs followed, laughing and celebrating, unaware of what was coming.

A brief commotion broke out—one of the won had tried to resist, but she was quickly subdued.

The host chuckled and redirected their attention.

"Gentlen! Let's raise our glasses and toast to the future! To power! To our victory!"

They cheered in unison, lifting their glasses.

Katherine and I put on our masks.

It was ti to make our move.

Monts later, the agonized screams began.

Pleas for rcy, desperate gasps for breath, and the horrific cries of suffering filled the entire hall.

The VIPs—who had just been laughing, celebrating, and treating innocent won like objects—were now writhing in pain, their bodies convulsing on the floor, suffering the excruciating effects of my blood.

Default Effect: Anyone touched by your blood will suffer a violent and painful death.

Instead of feeling pity, I found satisfaction in their agony.

Their arrogance, their false sense of power—all of it had been stripped away.

The sa n who sat on their high thrones, above the law, were now reduced to nothing.

The guards, unsure of what was happening, were frozen in fear and confusion.

So of them panicked and fled, realizing they had no way to fight sothing invisible, sothing unstoppable.

Even the host, who had once stood so proud and boastful on that stage, had collapsed—his lifeless body sprawled across the floor, the microphone slipping from his dead fingers.

I knew taking lives was wrong.

But if this world was willing to protect monsters like them—if the law continued to shield the corrupt—

Then I had no regrets becoming the very devil needed to purge them from existence.

I spotted the VIP who had been holding Lara earlier—now collapsed and lifeless.

His expensive suit was stained with coffee, and his entire body was covered in blood, the result of vomiting uncontrollably as my ability consud him from the inside out.

I let out a dark smirk and whispered to myself,

"This is exactly what you deserve."

But then I froze—

Lara wasn't beside him anymore.

Panic shot through as my eyes scanned the chaos, searching for her.

Then, I saw her.

She was curled up against the wall, her body trembling in pain.

That's when it hit —

She must have been the one who struggled earlier, the reason for the spilled coffee on that bastard's suit.

She fought back.

But now, she looked completely broken—her face pale, her breath uneven, her body barely able to move.

"Lara!" I called out, again and again.

She didn't respond.

My heart pounded as I ripped off my mask, no longer caring about the risk.

"Lara, it's !"

For a mont, she remained unresponsive—but then, her eyes fluttered open.

The second she saw my face, her tears began to fall, streaming down her battered cheeks.

Her lips trembled as she whispered my na—

"Daniel..."

And then, she collapsed.

I rushed forward, imdiately checking her pulse.

She was still alive, but her body was too weak—too battered to keep going.

I had no ti to waste.

I had to get her out of here—now.