I Want to Die, But I Am Immortal
Chapter 55: Home Sweet Home

Chapter 55: Home Sweet Home

Adam observed the landing of his words. He witnessed Sophia’s mother’s eyes light up as she realized how quickly her priorities had changed from supporting him to looking out for her kids.

He could see the tension on Sophia’s face as her desire to argue clashed with the burden of responsibility he had just placed on her. He had just warned her that doing so would endanger her family, but she still wanted to fight for him to support him.

He had used her weakness as a weapon to coerce her into complying. It was a necessary but coldly manipulative move.

Something he could not quite put his finger on made him ache. A sincere affection for Sophia that was at once a strength and a weakness. He was aware that this emotion was shared.

He was aware that she liked him much more than she should to. That weakness was a drawback. Before it killed them both, he had to cauterize it. The nicest cruelty he could give was to make her live a normal life by forcing her to act normal.

As for Anastasia he had no worries. He saw the quiet intelligence in the little girl’s eyes. She understood things she shouldn’t. She was a survivor. She would adapt.

Adam stood up. The meeting was over. "I’ll see you at school" he said. The statement was casual almost mundane a stark contrast to the bloody horror of the morning. It was a promise of a return to normalcy a future that seemed impossibly distant.

He didn’t wait for a reply. He didn’t want to see their reactions to hear their protests. He simply turned and walked out of the shop out of the house and out of their lives.

A deep sense of regret descended upon him as he walked down the peaceful morning street. Last night, he had made an awful mistake. He had lowered his defenses and allowed Sophia’s anxiety to influence his decisions. It had been the biggest tactical mistake to come to her house.

Her whole family had been drawn into his violent world by it. He would have faced the assassins by himself if he had gone to his own booby-trapped house as originally intended. He would have passed away and started over. It would have cost him alone. However, they had now paid for it in addition to him.

They had witnessed things that a typical family should never witness. They would always be troubled by the trauma of seeing the bodies wrapped in sheets and the memory of the blood on the kitchen floor.

He hoped they would get better and return to their regular lives. However, he was aware that it was a slim chance.

Sophia wanted to chase after him inside the store. She wanted to yell his name and plead with him to stay. Her feet, however, were firmly planted on the ground. She had lost all her courage.

Her mother experienced the same crippling mix of fear and guilt. She thought that he was in this mess because of them.

The only way to keep him safe, in her opinion, was to let him go. She did not want them to cause this brave odd boy to get into any more trouble. Thus, they simply sat in the gloom and listened to the sound of his footsteps fading.

Adam lowered his head as he walked. Before he left, he grabbed a baseball cap from a hook by Sophia’s door. It was something, but not much of a disguise. Covering his face helped him become just another nameless person on the street.

He was well aware that he had a $100 million bounty on his head.

Every individual he encountered and every vehicle that passed by posed a risk. He had no idea who was searching for him or who might decide that his life was worth a lot of money.

Now he had only one goal. He was going to complete the task he had begun the previous evening. He was returning home. Now that the sun was fully up, it was a ruthless, bright light with no shadows to hide in.

He arrived at his own street. He did not go straight to his house on foot. He went around the block three times, looking for any signs of an ambush or trap.

On his third pass, he saw something. His window upstairs flickered. He was aware that he had left the air conditioner on. The fan was turning.

There was a person inside. There was no doubt about that. He had not come back, so they would arrived last night. A chilly idea crept into his head. What if he had killed more than the three assassins at Sophia’s house? What if there was only one team? What if his house was filled with more of them, a whole welcoming committee positioned to set up a trap as soon as he entered?

His mind was filled with the idea. There was no doubt about it. It clarified the AC. They prepared for a lengthy wait. They were patient. Adam was hidden behind a big oak tree across the street. He glanced at his home.

There was a deathtrap at the front door. He was aware of that from an earlier loop. It was suicide to go to the front. He needed to go somewhere else. He followed the house’s lines with his eyes.

Near his bedroom window, he might see the drainpipe running up the side of the building. Despite being old and rusted, it appeared to be sufficiently sturdy. He decided. He would return home. He would not use the door, though. He would ascend.

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We are so grateful to each and every one of you for joining the adventure! Your assistance is greatly appreciated. I appreciate each and every one of your Power Stones, which are like mana potions that keep me writing if you are enjoying the story.

Let us have some fun now! I want YOU in this world. The new signature technique is about to be named by our hero. What ought it to be called?

Leave your most inventive suggestions in the comments section! I will choose my favorite, and it will be included in the story’s canon with a special mention for you.

I am eager to read your insightful recommendations!

Alphaboss

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