The bus arrived. Leon watched from beyond the car window as Grace disappeared inside, followed by McGill.

“Follow it.”

At his command, the driver began to follow the bus. His gaze remained fixed on the bus winding through the rural roads, deep in thought.

Today was historic. The day would be recorded in the annals of history as the Blackburn stronghold of the Blanchard rebels fell, and in Leon Winston’s history, it would be noted as the day he forever conquered the fortress named Grace Riddell.

He had rented a suite in a nearby hotel in advance, a place where the weary, cold, and tired woman could rest fully. He planned to pop champagne, holding her in his arms tonight.

The deployment of troops was already complete.

Blackburn village was effectively surrounded. Some soldiers, disguised as travelers, had finished assessing the internal situation. The village was in a festive mood, anticipating Christmas Eve. They were completely off guard.

The military had been informed of Grace’s description and was advised that she was a double agent not to be attacked and to be protected as a top priority upon sighting.

With all preparations in place, only the final step before launching the clean-up operation remained.

Grace Riddle’s betrayal.

Leon had long awaited the moment when that woman would become a traitor in front of hundreds of her comrades.

Whether you love me or not, all you’ll have left is me.

As that moment drew nearer, he found it hard to suppress his laughter.

Grace. Once a calamity, now a grace, as her name suggested.

Leon smiled, promising to gladly offer everything he had to the woman who gave him the best Christmas gift. It was a smile of premature victory.

The bus continued, passing familiar landscapes.

Dense pine forests, moss-covered roofs, sheep grazing on hillside pastures, and the river shimmering in the sunset light. Not long after crossing the old iron bridge over the river, the pointed spire of a church began to appear beyond the forest. It was a place she had grown tired of seeing almost her entire life.

The bus came to a stop. Only two passengers got off at the secluded station.

[ Welcome to Blackburn. ]

Grace passed the old sign at the village entrance and walked on without hesitation. From afar, the sound of bells and carols floated.

As houses began to appear, strings decorated with colorful fabric scraps crossed overhead. The cold air carried hints of cookies and wine, the festive ambiance she always longed for.

As she approached the square where the church was, she encountered villagers one by one. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at her in surprise. It was supposed to be a holiday for returning home, yet no one welcomed her back.

Home?

Grace burst into laughter.

What a joke. Nobody ever considered her family or a comrade.

Suddenly, the term ‘comrade’ seemed so ridiculous, and she laughed again.

They pursued equality within the revolutionary group, calling each other comrades, as their goal was to create a world where everyone was equal. Nevertheless, the right to sit at the leadership round table was reserved only for certain families, the main players of the past revolution.

In other words, it was a hereditary system.

Claiming to abolish classes while creating them and promising equality while practicing discrimination…

Only now did she see such contradictions. She had lived twenty-six years as if blind.

“The royalty might be corrupt, but at least they know they are. You rats of the rebellion, pretending to be pure while rotten inside, are far worse.”

Yes. That was right.

Corrupted from within yet feigning innocence, hypocrites.

“I said using seduction is filthy, not that you are filthy.”

That was right, too. It was them who were filthy.

In the end, Leon Winston spoke only truths.

It was funny. Really funny.

She laughed the moment she found herself agreeing with the enemy.

‘Enemy? I’m no longer with the revolution.’

No, they weren’t the revolution. His words were correct. A revolution led by a few without the support of the people was merely a rebellion.

‘Oh, I thought I was a champion of justice.’

She devoted her life to what she believed was just, only to discover it was injustice. As she burst into tears mixed with laughter, the village ladies looked at her as if she were crazy.

To endure such immense hardships for these hypocrites was utterly foolish.

“This is all for your comrades. Shouldn’t we quickly undo the brainwashing and stop the pointless sacrifices?”

Yes, that was right. His words were all correct.

Her vision cleared.

Finally, she had entered the village square.

As she moved towards the center of the square, the carols grew clearer, and their joyful voices resonated. In front of the church, in the middle of the square, stood a giant fir tree decorated with colorful ribbons and candles, topped with a big star.

In front of it was a statue of the Virgin Mary holding a newborn baby. People around the statue recognized Grace one by one, hesitated, then started whispering among themselves. She deliberately opened her coat and exposed her pregnant belly.

They looked at her, a virgin impregnated in her effort to protect herself as if she was a prostitute on the day celebrating the birth of the savior from a virgin mother.

Grace, locking eyes with them, raised her fist, which she had been clenching.

It was time for condemnation, for atonement.

Pointing at the sinners one by one, she shouted so loudly that the whole village could hear, no, so that the one bringing hell would hear clearly.

“Hypocrites! You, and you, and you! Everyone in this village is an accomplice!”

The astonishment on the faces of the hypocrites slowly turned into hostility and discomfort. Amid the uneasy silence, hurried footsteps sounded from behind.

Turning around, she saw the nursing officer who had followed her whistling through the whistle around her neck and dashed between the secluded buildings as if waiting for the apocalyptic knight said to come on Judgment Day.

Grace watched calmly at the spot where the woman disappeared until someone suddenly grabbed her from behind.

“Grace!”

It was Jimmy.

He was looking down at her with a pale face.

“Ha…”

Seeing his face, she thought she would be angry, though laughter came out first. His face hadn’t changed at all in two years.

He hadn’t changed at all. Yet, she has been ruined this much.

As the shrill sound of the whistle cut through the sky, Jimmy abruptly dragged her to the nearest building, the village hall. She followed obediently, having anticipated this.

“D*mn it…”

As soon as they were inside and the door was closed, Jimmy groaned, holding his face in his hands.

It was just as Nancy had said. Grace looked too well for someone who had supposedly been living comfortably in the royal pigsty, with too fine clothes and too healthy a complexion.

‘And with that royal pig’s child…’

Seeing the bulge of the devil’s child through the man’s coat that surely belonged to that greedy devil, Jimmy clenched his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see her in that state at all.

Unable to bear the pain, he had his eyes closed and began to scold her.

“I told you not to come back. If the leaders find out…”

Slap!

A fierce strike landed on his cheek.

“You cowardly b*stard.”

Grace grabbed Jimmy’s collar with both hands as he stared at her blankly, holding his swelling cheek.

“Just like you did to me, you must have forced other women to seduce the enemy.”

Hearing her accusation, Jimmy sighed deeply and started making excuses in a tone as if trying to soothe a hysterical woman.

“Grace, I told you our work is much dirtier and more shameful than you think. There are inevitable sacrifices.”

“Oh, so your role is to hide safely and peacefully in this secluded village and force others into ‘inevitable sacrifices.’ Right? No, it’s not a sacrifice. This is exploitation!”

However, Jimmy showed no sign of remorse. He insisted everyone volunteered for their roles and started making excuses that as a leader, he had no choice.

It was utterly disgusting.

“That’s right. Now it’s time to make the excuse that the elders told you to do it, and you had no choice? And you still claim to be the leader?”

“Grace, please, calm down…”

“Monster.”

“….”

Jimmy looked down at Grace with a blank expression as though he had never in his life imagined he would be called such a thing. It was clear he had lived his life committing vile acts while thinking he was a messenger of justice.

“You’re the real monster. This filthy den of monsters shouldn’t exist.”

As she delivered her judgment through clenched teeth, the sound of car tires scraping harshly against the road erupted outside, like the shriek of a wild beast, cutting through the air. The carols that seemed endless abruptly ceased, replaced by screams.

Soon after, gunshots echoed.

__