NABC Chapter 627: Past Memories Like Morning Stars (1)
Chapter 627: Past Memories Like Morning Stars (1)
Chapter 627: Past Memories Like Morning Stars (1)
As Angela's shout pierced the calm night sky, there was a moment when time seemed to freeze, then began to rewind.@@@@
Schiller, who had already fallen, slowly began to rise. The shattered glass shards danced upward from the ground, reforming into the pristine floor-to-ceiling window. Schiller and Batman returned to their face-to-face stance as others exited the door, moving down the staircase, returning to the room on the 4th floor.
Standing at the forefront was Constantine, confronting a now-materialized demon. Behind him, Kayla and Angela aimed their guns and fired. Angela, turning her head, said to Kayla, “If I heard correctly earlier, you spoke in Russian?”
“You'd better have heard wrong,” replied Kayla, expressionless. The gun she held was far more advanced than Angela's, fitted with an agent-specific silencer, and it had a larger bullet capacity.
Noticing Angela's handgun was out of bullets, Kayla reached into her waistband and handed her a magazine, advising, “Once we’re out, forget everything that happened here. It’s better for both of us.”
“You're KGB, right?” Angela took a deep breath. Under normal circumstances, she would try to arrest such a spy. However, recalling the contents of a letter from her sister, she could only say, “I think I know who you’re looking for. Read this letter.”
She handed the envelope to Kayla. It wasn't out of any sympathy for the Soviet Union's ideology but rather the understanding that entities like the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Central Intelligence Agency, and the KGB wouldn't stand by as a mysterious organization beyond their control flourished. They shared a mutual interest in eliminating this group.
Kayla quickly glanced at the envelope and returned the letter to Angela, gripping her handgun tightly. “Their sacrifices were worth it, just like your sister's.”
“If not for them, who knows when this mysterious dark organization would have been exposed? Our prior investigations always met with dead ends. They always seemed one step ahead, evading our grasp,” Angela explained.
“I don’t care who you are,” Angela said as she reloaded, “I only seek vengeance for my sister.”
“I feel the same,” Kayla replied.
Unified in purpose, Kayla yelled to Constantine in front, “Hold on a bit longer, reinforcements are arriving soon!”
“Don't even think about reinforcements. This isn't something mere mortals can handle.” Constantine produced a cross, cutting his palm with its edge, chanting what seemed like a ritual.
He flung the blood from his palm at the demon. Upon contact, the demon screamed. Just then, Constantine heard a sound reminiscent of helicopter blades.
“Take cover!” shouted Kayla.
All three dashed towards the door. A second after they exited, an explosion rocked the outer wall of the room. In an instant, what was once four walls became three, the night wind pouring in through the gaping hole.
The smoke from the explosion obscured Constantine and Angela's view. Coughing, Constantine peered into the room, exclaiming, “What the hell? Why the explosion?”
Kayla, however, rushed in, her handgun equipped with a red dot sight. She aimed at the demon, shouting, “Machine gun, fire here!”
Behind the smokescreen, Constantine noticed a helicopter positioned by the hole, its machine guns unleashing a barrage, forcing the black demon to retreat.
The overwhelming firepower forced Constantine and Angela to continue running for cover. Amidst the gunfire, Angela yelled, “Didn't you say regular weapons don't work on him?!”
“Is this a regular weapon?!” Constantine yelled back.
Suddenly, a loud “bang” followed by various other noises erupted. Covering their ears, Constantine gritted his teeth, “Those Russians are crazy! How dare they use such heavy firepower on U.S. soil?”
"Honestly, as his friends, we never really understood his past. Can you tell us his story?" Constantine inquired.
"It was about... five or six years ago when I had just graduated from the police academy and joined the Metropolis Police Department," Angela began, shaking her head. "You should know the discrimination a woman faces in this profession."
Constantine nodded in agreement. Even in this era, despite years of anti-discrimination movements and the increased employment rate of women, it mostly applied to ordinary sectors. In professions like the police, military, and firefighting, a prevailing stereotype persisted: even if women joined, they should work in offices, handling paperwork, making tea, and not engage in fieldwork.
This was why Angela was so well-known. She was one of the few competent female officers on the East Coast and possibly the whole country. Everyone recognized that a woman who could rise in such a challenging environment was exceptional.
However, as Angela continued her story, Constantine realized that she hadn't always been this strong.
"When I first joined the Metropolis Police Department, my first three days were spent running up and down stairs answering phones or delivering paperwork to the chief. The then station chief probably had me do this because I was prettier than the other female clerks," she said without arrogance, just stating a fact.
From where he stood, Constantine could see Angela's sharp eyebrows and prominent nose. She wasn't conventionally pretty but had a fierce beauty and a unique allure.
"The first time they formed a tactical unit, unsurprisingly, I was left behind at the station, responsible for paperwork. The paperwork was essential; analyzing evidence could help detectives on the field. I tried to convince myself that this role was just as important."
"But I always felt I could do more. So, during a joint case with the local police, I applied for fieldwork. The chief agreed, but only if I slept with him. I slapped him, and the next day, I was transferred to a remote branch."
"It was probably because it was so remote that a killer, involved in a dismemberment case, hid parts of a corpse in a trash can on the street I was responsible for. That's how I first came face-to-face with a ruthless criminal."
"You defeated him, didn't you?" Constantine asked, looking at Angela. Since she had approached him, she'd demonstrated remarkable resilience and strength in combat – something many couldn't do.
Yet, Angela shook her head, "That was when I realized that what I learned at the academy didn't translate to real-world situations. I was too nervous and let him escape."
"After that, he not only killed an innocent person but also a police officer..." Angela closed her eyes, her voice trembling, "Since then, I've been plagued by nightmares."
"In these dreams, I defeated him countless times, brought him to justice, and both the innocent victim and the police officer continued their peaceful lives. But when I woke up, reality was the opposite."
Taking a deep breath, Angela continued, "I've always known I had mental instability, because... my parents..."
It seemed to take a lot of courage for Angela to speak these words. "They called my sister a monster, an incurable lunatic. They praised me as the perfect child, saying I never disappointed them. But I know I'm a monster too. I can see those things, but I never spoke about them, or maybe I was too afraid to."
"Because my sister showed signs of instability first, they took her to see a psychologist. The psychologist diagnosed her with delusions, and against her pleas, my parents admitted her to a mental hospital, stating she couldn't leave unless cured."
"I know they just wanted an excuse to abandon her."
"They pinned all their hopes on me and took me to see another specialist."
Angela's voice started breaking, and fear crept into her tone, "Sitting in that chair, I was trembling with fear because I knew I was like my sister. I could see those things."
"At that moment, I heard the door open. I was about to cry, thinking the expert would condemn me. But it was a young intern who walked in. He said his name was Schiller, Schiller Rodriguez."