The woman was tall with long legs, her figure every bit as striking as Freya’s. Her chest looked firm and springy—a clear sign of daily training.

Her jet-black hair flowed like fine silk, smooth and radiant.

Karl could say without hesitation: among all the women he knew, her beauty and aura ranked top three.

Second place? Freya—his wife was undeniably lovely.

First? His mother-in-law.

Anyone who dared say his mother-in-law wasn’t beautiful deserved to die!!!

Staring at the breathtaking woman before him, Karl froze for a moment, then spoke softly:

“Sister, please—just say what you need. I’ll listen. But… could you lower the sword from my neck?”

He hated sounding so pathetic. Yet here he was—a mid-tier Silver-rank warrior—who, the instant he considered fighting back, saw a death node: his own throat slit.

She had to be terrifyingly strong. At least mid-tier Gold-rank.

The stunning black-haired woman shot him a disdainful glance. “Don’t be so… familiar. Who said you could call me ‘Sister’?”

Her words hitched—clearly breathless.

From her labored speech and trembling frame, she was dangerously weak.

A chill shot down Karl’s spine. *If she can kill me like this… what if she’s at full strength?*

“Your hair’s black. Mine’s black. You look so mature—what else should I call you?”

“…”

She didn’t answer, just rolled her eyes.

Unfazed, Karl grabbed his waterskin. “Sister, your lips are pale. You’re exhausted. Drink a little—just to catch your breath.”

She hesitated, eyes on the skin, then turned away sharply. “No.”

“You think I poisoned it? You ambushed me out of nowhere—when would I prep poison? Watch.”

He gulped loudly, opened his mouth wide to show it was empty.

Seeing his clear mouth, she reluctantly took the skin. Sipped once… then gulped desperately.

In seconds, it was empty.

“Uh… since you drank straight from the spout… does that count as an indirect kiss?”

“…”

Another eye-roll. She tossed the skin back. “I don’t care.”

*Cough—cough!*

Mid-sentence, she doubled over coughing.

Seizing the moment, Karl gently touched her wrist to check her pulse.

“Do you want to die?”

The sword was already at his throat.

But Karl didn’t flinch—no death node visible. “You’re poisoned. Deeply. Without treatment, you’ll die.”

His past life as a novice Chinese medicine practitioner clicked: pulse, symptoms, the faint black line creeping up her wrist.

She kept the blade pressed tight. “Obviously. I know I’m poisoned.”

She knew the truth: six hours left.

After that… she’d meet her end.

But before dying, she *had* to deliver what she carried—to *him*.

*CLANG!*

The warehouse’s iron door swung open.

Instantly, she yanked back the sword, clamped a hand over Karl’s mouth, and peered through the crate gap.

Two men in light blue uniforms, curved blades in hand, stepped inside.

Karl recognized them—twin brothers, peak Gold-rank guards under the city lord.

*(Not Count Watt—the royal-appointed city lord. The Crown’s eyes in Watt’s territory.)*

Karl’s brow tightened. These two never left the lord’s side. Something major was happening.

“Are they after you?” he whispered.

Eyes locked on the twins, she murmured, “Try reporting me—I’ll kill you instantly.”

“…”

Karl had considered it. Hunted by royal guards? She wasn’t innocent.

But the moment the thought formed—*death node*.

[His head severed by her blade.]

[The entire Sowani family marched to the guillotine.]

*Wait… what?!*

Why would reporting her doom his wife’s family?!

This made zero sense!!!

Still… Karl wasn’t reporting anyone.

Staying alive sounded pretty great.

Yet the visions remained: his beheading, the Sowani family’s fate.

*What’s triggering this?!*

Years of dancing on death’s edge kicked in.

*She must not be found.*

If the twins discovered her—he was locked into a death flag.

He didn’t understand the logic. But nothing else fit.

As he realized this, the twins advanced slowly toward their hiding spot.

The woman tightened her grip on her sword—ready to fight.

But pressed against her, Karl felt her trembling weakness.

*She’d lose.*

“Going out now is suicide,” he whispered urgently. “Trust me. I can hide you.”

She frowned, voice low with curiosity. “How?”

Karl met her eyes, hesitated a heartbeat.

“Sister… forgive me.”

In one motion, he shrugged off his coat, draped it over her, wrapped an arm around her slender waist, pinned her gently beneath him—and kissed her.