Chapter 210 The Moment She Understood Him
While he was still thinking, she spoke again.
She said, "Just betting on lives is too boring. I imagine Mr. Jordan has done this many times before, so let's add some extra conditions."
Just when he thought she was nothing special, she had already stated the additional condition—
"Let's bet on whether someone is willing to die for another person wholeheartedly, expecting nothing in return, and without hesitation."
This established the purity of the bet.
But at that time, he didn't understand her plan. He just thought it was easy—his men had followed him for so many years, every one of them living on the edge, they would definitely do it.
So he said, "Fine."
Then he saw her smile, her eyes sweeping across each of his subordinates' faces.
"That's good."
She said, "This means that after this person acts, Mr. Jordan, you cannot give him any compensation whatsoever."
"Including giving money to his family, promising to take care of his family, anything like that—none of it is allowed."
Before he could figure out her intention, she moved again.
Amelia looked at everyone present and said, "Mr. Jordan, I'm using my life for William. Mr. Jordan, whose life are you using?"
"Simply put," her gaze turned to him, "Mr. Jordan, who is willing to die for you, expecting nothing in return?"
Instantly, he frowned and glanced back at his subordinates.
Then he saw hesitation and fear in their eyes.
Looking back at Amelia, she still had that smiling expression.
This made him somewhat angry. He stood up from the lounge chair, quickly approached her, and pressed the gun barrel against her head.
"Don't worry about who I'll use for my life. Didn't you say you'd substitute for William? Need me to help you out and shoot you right now to send you to God?"
He didn't plan to keep his promise anyway. Giving her a bullet a bit early wouldn't be a problem—he'd gotten rid of plenty of people over the years.
But she was laughing.
Laughing, with pity in her eyes.
Yes, that was naked pity!
Pity for him, Alvin.
"Alvin."
"Before coming to Seraphim, your reputation had already spread worldwide."
"Many people say you're moody, that your hands are stained with blood, but I think you're an extremely pitiful person."
Anger flared in Alvin's heart, and he pressed the gun harder against her head.
But she seemed to have no emotion like fear.
"I think you've been playing pranks all along."
She smiled, "It's just that these pranks are very bloody, very scary."
"I don't know what you've lost, or what kind of struggle you have inside."
"But I can see that your so-called playing with the world, your so-called moodiness, is just to find something, or someone, to fill that void in your heart."
"I call this feeling powerlessness."
"Wanting to protect some people but being powerless to do so, wanting to fight for some things but unable to, wanting someone to be wholeheartedly devoted to you, but when they look at you, there's always too much else mixed in their eyes."
"So you started finding ways, through pranks, to vent what's inside."
Alvin still remembered how angry he was at that moment.
He almost pulled the trigger to kill her. In fact, he had already started to move—just a little bit more and that bullet would have fired, blowing Amelia's head apart.
The inner self he had always hidden was completely seen through by her.
Even more, she was pitying him.
But he didn't want to admit it, so he sneered, using an extremely sarcastic tone to mock her harshly: "What's the point of saying all this? What about you? What can you do now?"
"You know very well that even if I shoot you dead today, that contract probably won't be signed. Aren't you powerless too?"
"Hahaha!"
He suddenly burst into laughter, looking at her mockingly: "After saying so much, aren't you just afraid of dying?"
"Beg me, Amelia. Beg me to spare your little life and let you slink back home with William!"
But she didn't beg him.
In fact, she didn't refute him.
She admitted it very naturally.
"Yes, I am powerless." She said, "It's precisely because I've personally experienced that powerlessness that I understand how you feel right now."
"Completely understand."
She looked at him, her eyes slightly red, but her face was smiling.
Just one look, yet it made him certain that she truly understood.
In all his years, this was the first time he'd experienced this feeling.
It seemed like something, at the moment she understood him, shattered.
"But Alvin, I'm luckier than you." She said, "I have a lover who is wholeheartedly devoted to me."
"Him?" Alvin was referring to William.
"Yes." Her words were very certain, including what was in her eyes and heart.
"He saved my life." She said, "When my life hung by a thread, he saved me. When I was weak, he gave me strength."
"The most beautiful words of love he ever said to me weren't 'I love you,' but—'You're in my life plans.'"
"Alvin, if today you held a gun to his head and asked if he'd be willing to die for me, I believe he would say yes without hesitation."
"And Alvin, what I want to tell you is." She smiled and said, "If you have someone you want to protect, then work hard to do it. Even if you can't, you still have to try. If there's something you want to get, do your best to fight for it. Powerless rage is useless."
She paused slightly and said, "This is my personal experience."
Instinctively, without thinking, he blurted out: "What if you still can't do it?"
She smiled gently: "You can do it."
"As long as you're ruthless enough with yourself."
Her single sentence was like a shot of adrenaline, an awakening.
Like a psychological suggestion, telling him he could do it.
Before he could say anything more, she smiled at him again.
"Remember the bet you agreed to with me—betting on lives, Alvin. I bet I'll win."
Before he could understand what she meant, she had already leaped forward, jumping directly into the ice pool beside them.
Alvin still remembered how he stood there in a daze, unable to react at all.
His mind felt like it was exploding.
"You can do it."
"As long as you're ruthless enough with yourself."
She had shown him with her actions what this meant.
The ice pool in late autumn was extremely cold. Staying in it for a while would cause hypothermia, and before long, one could freeze to death.
And that wasn't all. When she was in the pool, frozen until her lips turned purple and her face showed pain, suddenly blood began to flow.
At that moment, he was still wondering why there was blood.
She had no wounds on her body. None of them had fired a gun.
He was still thinking maybe the ice had cut her skin.
And she, too, seemed surprised by the presence of blood, but then she seemed to understand.