Chapter 643: Plans and Nightmares

"Your invitation just now was incredibly stupid!"

After Li Ang's interview invitation was flatly rejected by the female reporter, leaving him to depart with a look of regret and board the public carriage back to the Cleanup Bureau, the Black Goat immediately squeezed out of the window glass, chattering a few questions before sighing in disappointment:

"If you wanted to set a trap to catch her, you could've just invited her to your home or to Ryan's place—then, whether it was Emma or the Red-Haired Chief, with a planned move against an unsuspecting target, catching her would've been effortless."

But you specifically invited her to the Cleanup Bureau for an interview? That woman's a rebel, a Water Bearer's subordinate, and still nursing serious wounds—she's running from you as fast as she can, so why would she ever come to the Cleanup Bureau to interview you?"

I was watching from inside the chandelier glass the whole time—when you invited her to the Cleanup Bureau, her face turned pale with fear. The moment you looked away, she stole glances at you, full of suspicion—she's already onto you!"

After spouting all that, giving Li Ang's impulsive invitation a damning overall assessment, the Black Goat smacked its lips, unsatisfied:

"Kid, now do you see how vital I am?"

"If I'd been able to pop out and warn you just then, you wouldn't have spooked her. Now, after this, setting a trap for her again will be much harder—what a waste!"

Yeah, yeah, you're right, you're absolutely right!

Li Ang glanced sidelong at the Black Goat, then calmly asked while jotting down the newly acquired intelligence in his small notebook:

"Is there a possibility I never intended to catch her at all?"

"???"

"A live spy whose identity is already exposed is far more useful than a dead one in custody."

Still writing, Li Ang answered without looking up:

"If she's still in contact with the Water Bearer Director, we can feed her false intelligence through her—or even use her to track down the Water Bearer Director's whereabouts. Isn't that more useful than capturing her?"

That's true…

After pondering for a moment, the Black Goat nodded slightly, though still grumbled:

"If you weren't planning to catch her, then why even mention the Cleanup Bureau? You just invited her there—she's already suspicious, thinking you're setting a trap!"

"It's better that she's suspicious."

Recalling the intelligence he'd just seen, Li Ang frowned slightly, paused his charcoal pencil, and said with palpable pressure:

"She's a Level One Cleanup Agent. According to the Chief, under extreme circumstances, an elite like Senior Emma could destroy half the capital in a single day—she could kill me with one glance."

Someone with that kind of destructive power and unknown tactics is far too dangerous. Jerry's friends can track her movements, but they can't stop her from causing destruction. Only the Chief himself has a chance of subduing her immediately."

"But you know the Chief's situation—he can't possibly drop everything else just to watch her day and night. So the safest approach is to make her wary enough not to act recklessly, yet still keep her clinging to the hope that she can stay without being caught."

"..."

In just that short time, you've already thought this far ahead?

After hearing Li Ang's plan, the Black Goat clicked its tongue, suddenly feeling this kid was slightly unfamiliar.

After gradually gaining power and being "corrupted" by Emma and the Red-Haired Woman for a while, Li Ang had changed completely—he was no longer the hot-headed fool he once was.

This bastard's heart's gotten darker than ever—he's grown used to setting traps for others, and his methods now resemble the Cleanup Bureau's scheming types, full of twisted, convoluted schemes—his shit probably even has threads on it.

"Fine."

With clear malice, the Black Goat glanced at Li Ang's backside, then asked curiously:

"So what's your next move? Go straight back to the Cleanup Bureau and wait for Emma and that Red-Haired Woman to return?"

"As for what comes next…"

Li Ang paused, thought for a moment, then circled something on his notebook with his homemade charcoal pencil, hesitating:

"First, return to the Bureau and inform Senior Jerry of the situation, then go to Princess Wang Nuwei to break off the engagement."

…

The sun had set.

As the sunlight faded, the embers and dust left by war spread like streaks of dark gray paint, painting shadow after shadow across the narrow alleys.

After several brutal, back-and-forth battles, the once-thriving city had been reduced to ruins. Cracked streets revealed broken mechanical parts; collapsed buildings spewed weak, gray-white, acrid smoke from ruptured steam pipes.

Dust, smoke, ash, rust, blood, cries!

A desolate and fierce wind howled through the alleys, dragging the chaotic, smoky, charred-earth scent into the lungs of survivors, stinging their eyes until they streamed tears—as if the war-ravaged city itself were mourning its own death.

Recognizing the shattered city before him—though he'd only visited once, it felt unbearably familiar—Veronica, who now looked six or seven years younger, froze, then bit her lip hard.

This was her dream… The ruined city before her was Cornwall City, the former capital of Ryan County, utterly destroyed in war.

During the War of National Defense six years ago, the Kingdom and the Ice Realm's mechanical forces fought eleven brutal battles for Cornwall City, reducing its once-prosperous streets to ash. Even counting those who fled early, over half the population still perished.

What she now saw was the morning after the sixth battle, moments before the Ashito Kingdom launched its seventh assault—the next two hours would become her lifelong nightmare.

Though she desperately resisted moving forward, the Princess trapped in the dream could not control her actions—she could only follow her past self, accompanied by a large guard detail and ten battlefield medics, heading toward the broken factory at the end of the alley.

It was a sugar refinery repeatedly bombed. Cornwall's Rainbow Candy, once beloved across the Kingdom, had been the rainbow in countless children's dreams.

After six rounds of battle, the once-sweet factory lay half-collapsed, steam still hissing from ruptured pipes inside its bullet-riddled walls, shattered machinery scattered everywhere.

Contrary to the scorched ruin around it, the factory floor was flooded with vividly colored syrup. Inside the ruined storage room, dozens of civilians who hadn't escaped waited—hopelessly—for rescue that would never come.

In the dream, the Princess heard weak cries for help, urgently directing guards to pry open the door, even tearing apart the warped frame with her own hands, rushing in first.

The last rays of sunset streamed through broken windows, casting dappled shadows across the half-destroyed room. A child, sticky with filthy syrup, hugged a doll and timidly looked up at her—beside the child were thirty-odd survivors.

Seeing her target, the dream-Princess sighed in relief and smiled warmly—but the Princess who knew she was dreaming stared at the doll in the girl's arms, its face half-shattered, its expression frozen in a mournful smile, and bit her lip until it bled.

"Boom!"

With a tearing hiss of displaced air, hundreds of bombs filled with alchemical fuel, trailing blinding white flames, tore through the crimson twilight and struck Cornwall's alleys. The half-collapsed sugar factory vanished into rubble; the vibrant syrup below erupted into a roaring sea of orange and yellow fire.

"No!!!"

As the brilliant flames were about to fully erupt, the Princess in her sleep jolted awake, sitting bolt upright on the bed.

Even though she'd escaped the dream, even though she'd broken free from the nightmare that had haunted her for six years—just before the most agonizing moment struck—her thin nightgown was soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to her skin, making her shiver uncontrollably.

"Huh..."

Leaning weakly against the headboard, she gasped for breath until her heartbeat steadied. She made no attempt to sleep again—instead, she rose, drank a cup of ice-cold water, sat at the desk, opened the unfinished documents, and silently picked up her feather pen.

The Curse of the Nightmare King.

Every direct royal descendant, upon reaching adulthood, is haunted by nightmares for life—repeatedly reliving their deepest regrets and sorrows in dreams so vivid they feel real.

But perhaps that's for the best.

After finishing the document in hand, the Princess turned to look at the smiling tin doll on the shelf behind her. She fell silent for a moment, then picked up another document.

The Curse of the Nightmare King is painful—but it constantly reminds her, ensuring she never forgets what happened, never loses sight of what she must do.

…

As the Princess wrote furiously, the pile of documents on her desk slowly dwindled, while the oil in the lamp gradually burned away.

Then came a soft "pop"—the lamp flickered slightly, and a maid's quiet voice called from the door.

"Your Highness? Are you asleep?"

"Not yet."

Picking up tweezers, she rolled the wick to brighten the dimming lamp, then continued reviewing documents as she asked gently:

"What is it?"

"Princess Veronica… your relative… ah… Mr. Li Ang is here. Would you like to see him now?"

(End of Chapter)