Chapter 271 A Past Life Without Joseph

Chapter 271 A Past Life Without Joseph

The roadblock was made of iron, fitted with spikes, stretching across the middle of the road like an impassable wall.

Two men in black uniforms stood beside the roadblock, with no identifying marks on their uniforms.

Their expressions were calm, as if they'd known all along that someone would come.

One of them walked over and knocked on the car window.

Vernon rolled down the window.

"Military restricted area ahead. No entry." The man's voice was low and threatening.

"We're on official business." Vernon showed his ID. "Someone went missing up ahead. We need to go in and search."

The man glanced at the ID, his expression unchanged. "Without authorization from a higher authority, no one goes in."

Vernon frowned. "Higher authority? Who exactly are you talking about?"

The man didn't answer. He just stepped back to the roadblock, hands behind his back, standing there motionless like a stone.

Vernon looked at him, then at the mountain road swallowed by darkness, picked up his radio, pushed open the car door and stepped outside.

He dialed the chief's number. The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up. The background on the chief's end was very quiet, quiet like he was in a sealed room.

"Vernon, come back. Stop investigating what's going on there."

Vernon froze. "Chief, the suspect might be in there, and the victim might be in there too—"

"I told you, drop it." The chief's voice was low and heavy, as if it were pressing down from far away. "This is a decision from the higher-ups. Your job is just to follow orders."

A brief burst of static came through the radio, then complete silence.

Vernon stood by the roadblock, looking at the mountain road swallowed by darkness, his fingers tightening, gripping the radio hard.

His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He turned around, walked back to the car, pulled open the door, and sat in the driver's seat.

"Turn around." His voice was a bit hoarse.

The young officer looked at him but didn't ask questions.

The car struggled to turn around on the mountain road, heading back the way they came. Tree shadows kept retreating past the window, one cluster after another, like pairs of eyes watching them in the darkness.

Benjamin stood in the monitoring room deep inside the arena, watching the car's taillights on the screen get farther and farther away, finally disappearing into the night.

The corner of his mouth slowly curved into a smile.

He had dirt on too many people.

The memories from his past life didn't just remind him of Jessica—they also reminded him of everything he'd seen, heard about, and personally handled over those years.

Who took whose money, who killed whose people, who stabbed whom in the back.

Each of those things was enough to put someone in prison for life, enough to make someone fall from the top to the bottom.

He organized these things into files and had them delivered to each person's desk.

It wasn't a threat, but a reminder. A reminder that he had these things, and if something happened to him, these things would appear on the police chief's desk, in reporters' inboxes, in front of everyone.

No one dared touch him. Not because they didn't want to, but because they didn't dare.

Three days later, the police held a press conference.

Vernon stood on stage, announcing to the cameras that Benjamin was wanted for multiple charges including kidnapping and assault, and they were doing everything to catch him.

He didn't mention the arena, and he didn't dare to.

The camera focused on the reporters below, flashbulbs lighting up one after another, like countless eyes constantly blinking.

Benjamin turned off the TV and leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes. He'd expected the warrant. When Nathan first drew a line between them, he knew this day would come.

But so what?

A warrant was just a few lines printed on paper. The police couldn't find him because they didn't dare to look. The dirt he had on those people was enough to kill them a hundred times over. They couldn't possibly risk their own lives just to catch him.

He thought of Jessica.

He started imagining what she looked like when she opened that gift box. What expression did she have?

The corner of his mouth curved into that smile again, colder and fainter than before.

She didn't like his gift. He'd known all along—she never liked anything he gave her.

Not in the past life, not in this life either.

Even if he laid out everything he could and couldn't give right in front of her, she wouldn't spare it a glance.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number he'd long since memorized.

The phone rang for a long time, so long he thought she wouldn't answer.

Then the call connected, and her voice came through, very cold. "Benjamin."

"You got my gift." His voice was light, as if he were talking about something gentle. "Don't you like it? I thought you'd definitely feel satisfied."

Silence on the other end for a few seconds. "You're insane."

"Maybe." Benjamin laughed, the smile tinged with bitterness. "If you don't like it, that's okay. I'll get you something different next time."

Jessica's voice grew colder. "There won't be a next time. Benjamin, listen carefully. What you're doing won't make me look at you twice. You can kill as many people as you want, cut off as many hands, peel off as many faces—I'll only hate you more. If you've got the guts, offer up your own hands, and maybe I'll consider the possibility of forgiving you."

Benjamin was silent for a while.

He could hear the hatred in her voice—that hatred had seeped into her bones.

But he didn't care. Whether it was hate or love, as long as she still cared about him, even if all she cared about was how to kill him, he still had a chance.

"In the past life, Joseph never appeared." He wasn't provoked by Jessica's words. Instead, he brought up something else. "The Williams family never had any heir show up until the very end in the past life. He didn't exist in the past life, but he appeared in this one. Don't you want to know why?"

Silence on the other end.

It was a very long silence, so long Benjamin thought she'd already hung up. But she hadn't.

"If you want to know, come find me." Benjamin's voice was light, as if coaxing a disobedient child. "I won't force you. I'll wait for you."

He hung up, put the phone on the coffee table, leaned back on the sofa, and looked up at the ceiling.

The ceiling was white, high and distant, as if everything was beyond his reach.

Outside the window, the sky had gone completely dark. No stars visible, no moon either, just an endless expanse of darkness, as if it would never be dawn.

Jessica put down her phone and sat at her desk, not moving for a long time.

Night wind blew in through the window crack. Only one voice kept echoing in her mind—in the past life, Joseph never appeared.

She'd known Joseph for so long and had never asked this question.

She thought he was just the heir to the Williams family, just a survivor who escaped from the arena, just someone who happened to appear in her life that year, at that place, at that time.

But now she knew—he didn't "happen" to appear. He came specifically to find her.

Joseph had started out as a complete stranger, then somehow become her neighbor, and eventually her lover—none of those steps really seemed accidental.

She stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open. The lights were still on in the villa next door. Joseph wasn't asleep yet.

She looked at that lit window for a long time.

Then she picked up her phone and sent him a message: [I'm in the study. Come over for a bit.]