Hades, the Urban Legend

Chapter 504: The Mass

A woman in a sheer nightgown appeared, like a delicate sculpture draped in a veil of light clouds. She evoked images of the plump and soft lines of ancient Athenian goddesses in Western paintings, a visual stimulant challenging the limits of male hormones.

Her lustrous chestnut hair cascaded down to her waist in large, silky waves. With a high nose, full red lips, and enchanting blue-green eyes, she resembled a fairy from a fairy tale—noble, seductive, and mysterious.

At this moment, this mesmerizing fairy leaned lazily against the door, her expression playful yet imbued with a girlish shyness.

"Dear Chen Chen, am I beautiful?" Catherine blinked her electrifying eyes, looking at Yang Chen with hopeful anticipation.

"Hiss..." Yang Chen looked up and took a sharp breath, his expression a mix of amusement and helplessness. "I knew it, only you would be this outrageous."

Catherine pouted, walked forward, and wrapped her arms around Yang Chen's.

"It's been almost two years since we've been intimate. You are too cruel. Even now that you're in Europe, if I hadn't come to find you, you wouldn't have come to Wales to see me," Catherine said resentfully, pulling Yang Chen into the room and closing the door. The room's dim lighting was softened by thoughtfully placed scented candles, and a soothing Liszt piano piece played like a nightingale's song, making the night feel hazy and ambiguous.

The delicate figure clinging to him didn't make Yang Chen impatient to devour this inviting delicacy. Instead, he walked to the bed and motioned for Catherine to sit down.

Catherine reluctantly let go of Yang Chen's hand. Finally, Yang Chen had no choice but to let her cling to him and began, "You should know that I have changed a lot in the past two years."

"Is it because of your marriage? I know. I also know that your wife is here too, in this very hotel," Catherine said, leaning her head on Yang Chen's shoulder with a sly smile. "But I also heard from Jane that you still have many women, right?"

"She even told you that... I can't handle you mother and daughter. Not only did I get married, but in the past two years, especially in the last year, many things have changed, including my view on women. I must admit that when I first met you, most women were just tools for venting and fun for me, without much value. But now, both you and Jane, like Edward, Sauron, and Macedonia, I consider you my friends, not just something to make me happy."

Yang Chen smiled wryly and continued, "So, Catherine, don't do this anymore. You don't need to try so hard to please me. We've known each other for almost nine years. Even if you don't please me as you used to, you're still my friend and will always have my friendship."

Catherine's enchanting eyes sparkled with a peculiar light, and a playful smile appeared on her lips. "You really have changed a lot, Chen Chen."

"Hmm?" Yang Chen noticed the change in Catherine's expression and said with a smile, "You now look like a woman in her thirties, not a silly little girl."

"You're so annoying. It wasn't okay when I was young, and now you're mocking me for being older. Am I really old?" Catherine released Yang Chen's hands, stood up, and spun around in front of him. Then she fixed her gaze on Yang Chen's eyes and breathed softly, "Chen Chen, even friends can sleep together, right?"

Yang Chen didn't speak and moved his gaze to Catherine's chest.

"Do you like what you see?" Catherine asked with a coquettish smile.

Yang Chen nodded and said bluntly, "It's beautiful."

"Ha ha," Catherine laughed heartily.

"Chen Chen, you know, ever since my husband died, no other man has touched them besides you," Catherine said, suddenly straddling Yang Chen's lap and burying his head between her breasts. "I only want to sleep with you, to please you, and to be coquettish with you. Not because I need you to do anything for me, but because this is what I like, what I want."

Yang Chen felt a warm flush and found it a bit hard to breathe. After a while, he placed his hands on Catherine's waist.

Catherine's body was soft and curvy, with a hint of extra flesh that added to her mature allure.

"Ah," Catherine softly moaned, feeling the heat from Yang Chen's hands.

Yang Chen pulled his face away from her bosom, his eyes bloodshot, and looked at the bewitching and noble queen before him. His voice was hoarse as he said, "I could have controlled myself, but you just had to play with fire. It looks like you won't be getting any sleep tonight."

Catherine's eyes became pools of spring water, and her body clung to Yang Chen like a delicate willow in the wind. Her burning red lips gently nibbled on Yang Chen's ear as she breathed heavily, "Do you remember when we first met? I want you to treat me like you did back then."

Her soft and charming tone caused a flood of thoughts to erupt in Yang Chen's mind like a torrent.

Salerno, Italy.

This ancient city lay quietly on the southern coast of Italy. Apart from facing the holiday destination of the Mediterranean, the city, like many in southern Italy, was dim and old. Work, study, and life went on day after day. Besides the occasional excitement from the city's football matches, it seemed people couldn't see the future they desired.

Although it was winter, the warm Mediterranean climate allowed the residents to wear relatively light clothing as they busily moved along the streets.

It was the weekend, and the inherently laid-back Italians drove their cars sluggishly, looking at the faded traffic lights at the intersections, sometimes unclear in the sunlight.

Perhaps only the Gothic churches from the Middle Ages, with their towering spires, ornate stained glass windows, and various flying buttresses, retained a sense of the city's undying vitality.

The Natchez Solaro Church near the port was one of the countless unremarkable Catholic churches in the city.

Few remembered when this church was built. The granite stele recording its history had been buried in the bushes outside the church for many years, with no one bothering to unearth it.

Compared to Italy's many iconic national treasure churches, this one was truly inconspicuous.

It had a basic rectangular design with a high spire in the center, a black and gray exterior, and a color scheme weathered by time, making it hard to distinguish its original hues.

At noon, the church doors opened, and a group of peaceful-looking local Italians emerged—old people, women, young adults, and children. It was Sunday, and the mass had ended.

After the congregation left, Father Marino stood at the door, smiling kindly as he watched everyone leave. Then he made the sign of the cross over his chest, murmuring a prayer.

Marino was an orphan. The old priest who had adopted him passed away when he was twenty, and since then, Marino had taken over the small church. In the blink of an eye, he was now nearly fifty, and time had flown by, with his most precious years devoted to a god who had never appeared.

Turning around, Marino closed the church doors. In the empty church hall, he was the only person there. Sunlight filtered through the sparse gaps in the stained glass windows, casting a warm glow that highlighted the uneven walls. The air was filled with a musty smell, a testament to the church's long-standing disrepair. The decay had crept from the inside to the outer structure, and Marino often wondered if the roof might collapse on him one night while he slept.

His weathered face, looking older than fifty, showed signs of pain. He glanced up at the crucifix of Jesus at the front of the church, his eyes betraying a hint of agitation and unease.

After standing silently for a long while, Marino walked back to the front of the hall, where a rectangular table stood. On the table was a small basket of white bread and a half-empty bottle of wine. These were remnants of the Mass that the congregants hadn't finished, but Marino never wasted them because poverty didn't afford him the luxury of waste.

Picking up the basket and the wine bottle, Marino walked to the back of the hall, where his living quarters were. Since he could remember, the old priest had accompanied him for a dozen years, and after that, Marino had lived alone for over twenty years, up until today.

After rounding two corners, Marino did not enter his own room but instead walked toward the only guest room, which had always been empty. He pushed the door open to reveal a simple room with a single bed covered in white sheets, a table, and a somewhat unstable wooden chair.

At that moment, a woman dressed in oversized clothing sat in the chair, holding a girl about ten years old. They were quietly reading a worn copy of the Old Testament on the table.

It was clear at a glance that they were mother and daughter because both had stunningly beautiful amber hair and porcelain-like skin. Even from the side, their faces were strikingly beautiful—one like a fairy, the other like an angel.

"God's masterpiece," Marino often thought since he had taken in this mother and daughter half a month ago when they fell into distress outside the church.

Hearing the door open, the girl turned her head first. Despite her doll-like face, there was no smile. Her gemstone-blue eyes always had a wise look that made people feel she could see through everything.

"Good afternoon, Father," the girl greeted crisply.

Then the woman turned her face. Though she hadn't groomed much, and her hair was a bit disheveled, it didn't diminish her noble and elegant demeanor. With a whimsical expression, she smiled joyfully, "Good afternoon, Father Marino. My darling and I are reading the Bible, but there are many parts I don't understand. Could you explain them to us?"

The girl glanced at her mother and said, "You should learn to read more first. You're almost thirty and still can't read the Bible properly. It's clearly me reading it to you."

The woman playfully stuck out her tongue and pinched her daughter's chubby cheek, "Darling, you shouldn't say such things in front of Father. Give your mother some face. Haven't I told you many times?"

"Let go of your hand," the girl said, frowning as she removed her mother's hand, lowering her voice so that only the woman could hear, "When do you ever act like a mother? If I hadn't discovered someone tracking us early on, we would have been dead half a month ago."

The woman pouted in grievance, "Alright, alright, you're the smartest. Mommy won't pinch your cheeks anymore."

Marino watched the mother and daughter whispering to each other, his expression growing more complicated. After standing at the door for a moment, he said, "Ms. Catherine, I brought some bread and wine. You must be hungry."

The grievance on Catherine's face vanished, replaced by a sweet smile. "Thank you, Father. I am indeed hungry. I actually wanted to ask you about food this morning but didn't dare interrupt your Mass."

"I should have been more considerate and prepared some food first," Marino said in his Italian-accented English, smiling as he walked to the table and placed the bread and wine on it. Catherine didn't hesitate. Despite the dry bread, she didn't find it unappetizing. She picked up a piece, tore off a small portion, and held it to the girl's mouth. "Here, darling, open your mouth."

"I can eat by myself!" The girl, frustrated by her mother's feeding attempt, took the bread and started eating on her own.

Catherine sighed dramatically, "It drives me crazy. Why are other people's children so obedient, but my Jane is so unruly?"

"Don't blame me. Other people don't have a mother like you," Jane replied, rolling her eyes at her mother and bluntly stating the obvious.

Watching the mother and daughter on the verge of another spat, Marino cleared his throat, interrupting their exchange.

"May I ask you something, Ms. Catherine?" Marino said seriously.

Catherine blinked, nodding awkwardly, "Of course, Father. Please go ahead. But I'm not very smart. If it's an academic question, my daughter Jane would be more useful." She pointed proudly at Jane sitting on her lap, making the girl frown again.

Marino squinted, his expression a bit strange as he reached into the deep pocket of his black robe and pulled out a piece of paper, placing it on the table.

Catherine and Jane both fell silent when they saw the contents of the paper. Catherine's face went blank, while Jane's expression turned solemn, a serious look that seemed out of place on a ten-year-old girl.

"Wanted: Catherine and Jane. Reward: Ten million pounds."

Marino read out the key phrases from the wanted poster, his face cold. "This is a secret document I received from the regional bishop last night. You two are being secretly hunted across Europe. Anyone sheltering you could be implicated and killed, while those who turn you in will receive a reward of ten million pounds."

The room fell silent, with only Marino's slightly heavy breathing indicating his inner turmoil.

"Father," Jane suddenly spoke, her gaze icy. "Are you planning to turn us in?"

Facing the little girl, Marino's expression fluctuated. "If turning you in would indeed secure me ten million pounds, I would do it without hesitation. However, I thought about it all night. Since your warrant is secret, the handover would also be conducted secretly. As someone without any backing, how can I ensure they'll give me the ten million pounds?"

"You're smart, Father. If you did that, you would end up dead sooner than us," Jane sneered. "The best course of action now is for you to act as if you know nothing. That way, we all stay safe. And if one day, my mother and I manage to escape, you will be our benefactor."

Hearing Jane's words, Marino suddenly burst into wild laughter, bending over with mirth and stomping his feet like a madman. This unexpected reaction made Catherine instinctively hug Jane tightly, but Jane, though puzzled, was not frightened.

"What are you laughing at?" Jane asked.

"Poor child, you're very smart, but you're still just a child," Marino's face darkened, and a suppressed fervor flickered in his eyes. "You're right, turning you in is a very risky move. But do you really think I wouldn't dare?!

I've had enough! I've had enough of this dilapidated little church! I've had enough of this dry bread and poor-quality wine! I've had enough of those fat, arrogant bishops who take away the church's funds every day!

God?! I've been serving him since I was a child with the old priest. I've spent my youth, my most precious time, accompanying him! Now I'm nearly fifty, and I've never had a decent steak, never traveled abroad, and I've never even experienced a woman's body!

No one knows who I am, no one cares what my name is, no one will care if my church collapses! Or if I suddenly die one day!

What was half my life for?! Just to die alone in this rotten, stinking place?!

To hell with the bishops, the Vatican, and that damn God! Let them all go to hell!"

His hysterical roar shook the empty room, leaving Catherine and Jane completely stunned.

"Get away!"

Marino suddenly grabbed Jane and threw her to the ground!

"Jane!" Catherine snapped out of her shock, shouting as she tried to pick Jane up, but Marino grabbed her waist tightly with his arms!

Thrown to the ground, Jane felt her entire body aching, the hard wooden floor making her feel as if her body was breaking apart. Seeing her mother being held by Marino, she finally understood what he intended to do!

"Since I have nothing left to lose, why shouldn't I treat myself better? Since God sent such a beauty to me, how can I refuse?" Marino laughed, his face twisted and drooling, as he began to nuzzle Catherine's body.

In a panic, Catherine struggled with all her might to push Marino away, but she was just a woman. Even though Marino was past his prime, she still couldn't resist him.

"Let go of my mother! Are you crazy?! You're a priest! How can you do this?" Jane, finally frightened, burst into tears for the first time. The strong girl lunged at Marino, grabbed his leg, and bit down hard!

"Ah!" Marino let out a cry of pain and kicked out with his leg! "Bang!" Jian Xiaoxiao's small body was directly flung away by the kick, her head hitting the table! "Jian!" Catherine screamed, watching helplessly as her daughter fell unconscious! Marino couldn't care less about Jian's life or death. In his eyes, the person in front of him was his only path to paradise! "Catherine, stop rejecting me. You will be my first woman, and I will treat you well. I won't tell anyone you and your daughter are here. You just need to listen to me, and I will..." "No! Father, don't do this! Let go of me, why is this happening?" Seeing Marino's crazed and ferocious expression, Catherine finally broke into tears. She had never felt so helpless and terrified, crying out as she felt herself sinking into a mire from which she couldn't escape. If she could, she would even bite her tongue and end it all. But when she thought of her unconscious daughter behind her, Catherine painfully realized that she couldn't die so easily! She was a mother; she couldn't abandon her child! "A priest who steals my prey will face God's punishment." Suddenly, a rough male voice sounded from outside the door. The man's voice seemed to have a calming magic. Marino, who was about to bite Catherine's cheek, shivered all over and stopped all his actions. Catherine, who had almost given up resisting, looked at the door with tear-filled eyes. A young man dressed in a black suit and white shirt, looking quite gentlemanly and fashionable, entered. From his slightly youthful face, it was clear that he was still a teenager. The boy's appearance was ordinary, a clean-cut Asian. Apart from his particularly bright eyes, there was nothing special about him. Yet, this seemingly ordinary boy gave off an inexplicable aura, as if what you were seeing wasn't real. "Who... who are you?" Father Marino finally realized something was wrong and turned around in a panic to ask. The boy glanced at the unconscious girl on the floor and then at the disheveled, tear-streaked white woman. Suddenly, he smiled lightly, "Tsk tsk, such a beauty. No wonder even a Western monk couldn't resist breaking his vows." Such a frivolous and lecherous expression on a young boy's face created a strong contrast, making Catherine momentarily forget to cry, speechless. "Who... who are you really?!" Father Marino asked in a panic, feeling both angry and fearful as the boy showed no regard for him. The boy walked into the room, flashing a bright smile, "Zero organization, code name Thirteen, the assassin sent to kill this mother and daughter." Zero? Assassin? Thirteen?

A series of unfamiliar terms left both Catherine and Father Marino momentarily stunned.

After a long pause, Father Marino finally woke up to the situation. "You... you... are an assassin?!" It was hard for him to believe that a well-dressed teenager could be an assassin.

Thirteen shrugged. "Is there a problem?"

A hint of sarcasm appeared on Marino's face. "Young man, don't think you can fool a priest so easily. You must have overheard our conversation, and now you want to save them and then report back to claim the million-pound reward, right? Hmph, if assassins were like you, I could be an assassin too!"

Thirteen scratched his head in frustration. "Why don't you believe me? Do I have to prove it to you?"

"What can you prove, you wet-behind-the-ears kid?" Father Marino laughed maniacally. "Stop bluffing. Let me tell you, even if you saw me trying to assault this woman, so what? No one would believe a little brat like you..."

Marino couldn't finish his sentence because, in the next second, his head was smashed to pieces.

Catherine stared in shock at the blood mist dispersing in the air. Just a moment ago, the boy who called himself Thirteen had merely extended his left hand and, like lightning, struck Marino's head, causing it to explode.

Catherine had never thought that killing could be so straightforward, with no warning at all, achieving with pure physical force what even a bullet could not.

Nor had she ever imagined that a human head exploding could be so disturbingly beautiful, with the air filled with the rich scent of blood, crimson mist hanging in the air, and a fountain of blood spurting from the severed neck.