"You can still laugh? If you die here, you won’t be able to take your revenge, and everything you meticulously prepared will benefit someone else." "I don’t care. Anyway, the old man is already targeting Hugo Quinn. Whether I live or die, Hugo’s fate won’t be good in the end. My wish is fulfilled. But you? I bet you can’t wait to return to his side right now." Dylan Dawson truly hit Eleanor Hollis’s sore spot. Hearing Ashley Dawson’s tone, it was clear that the Dawson Family was preparing to go against Hugo. If Hugo knew she was already dead, how could he have the energy to manage everything at Grandeur? The Dawson Family could easily take advantage of this opportunity. She gritted her teeth, just as the tree branch snapped a bit lower again, causing both of them to quiver inside. Ashley had been waiting up top for the two of them to fall, but after waiting for a full ten minutes, the branch hadn’t broken yet. Her eyebrows knitted together, and she picked up a stone from the ground. With a glint of amusement in her eyes, she hurled it down forcefully. The stone grazed a cut into Dylan’s face, but he still didn’t let go, casting a crimson glare at Ashley. Ashley raised an eyebrow and picked up an even larger stone. "Let’s see how long you can hold on!" She hated Eleanor Hollis and hated Dylan. If both of them disappeared from her world, she believed she could live much more smoothly! "Eleanor Hollis, just let go. I never thought someone would accompany me to death. This is not so bad." Dylan suddenly turned his head, gave Eleanor a look, and then embraced her, falling downwards. "What are you doing? Bastard! Let go!!" Eleanor’s hands were scratched bloody by the branches, yet she still didn’t want to give up. But since Dylan suddenly threw himself onto her, she, already exhausted, had no strength left and was held as they fell together. "Madman! You madman!" To die and still drag her along! Damn it! Dylan let out a laugh, holding her tightly. The source of thɪs content is 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹~𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮~𝚗𝚎𝚝 The howling wind passed by their ears as their bodies fell freely and swiftly. The bottom of the cliff was pitch black; no one knew what lay below. A huge splash surged, and Eleanor Hollis choked on a mouthful of water, almost drowning. There was still a pair of hands on her waist—Dylan’s. This guy still hadn’t let go of her even now. Eleanor floated in the water, turned her head, and found that Dylan had already passed out. She frowned; logic told her she should discard this man immediately and swim to the shore by herself. But as she was about to pry his hands apart, Dylan’s laughter suddenly echoed in her mind. Even on the brink of death, he could laugh so casually. This person really didn’t care about his life at all. She gritted her teeth, supported his waist, and struggled to swim towards the shore. Several times she almost sank, but with a small remnant of willpower, they both avoided drowning. She didn’t want to die here; she still needed to return to Hugo and couldn’t let the old man’s plot succeed. After reaching the bank, she was utterly exhausted, lying there, gasping for air. Exhausted, a large swathe of darkness suddenly enveloped her. There was no time to think of anything else, as her head tilted, and she directly fell asleep. The sun climbed from the other side of the valley, and the person lying by the river finally showed signs of activity. Dylan Dawson was the first to open his eyes, squinting against the blinding sunlight. Sunlight? He’s not dead? He turned his head and saw Eleanor Hollis sleeping deeply beside him. She seemed very tired, asleep without any guard. Dylan propped himself up, rubbed his sore head, and stared blankly at the pond before him. He was afraid of water. He nudged Eleanor Hollis next to him, his body growing weaker. In the water, many things emerged, crouched before him, wanting to drag him in, to drown him. He spoke with a trembling voice, his face growing whiter, curling his body tightly, not daring to open his eyes. So much blood, blood everywhere, and drowned people—it was terrifying. Someone save him; he didn’t want to go back into the water... "His parents are criminals! A child born from them is no good either." "Drown him, and there’ll be one less scum in society." At five years old, he moved to a new home, but the neighbors didn’t welcome him. "Beat him! His parents are bad guys! So he’s also a bad guy!" "No, it’s not like that..." Dylan’s mouth kept mumbling, face flushed, sinking into a deep dream. "Let me go!! *Cough cough*! I’m going to die. I want my parents. I want to see them!" "Drown him! Drown this bastard!" Seven or eight boys shouted, pushing him into the water. He drank so much water, enough that he almost threw up. Almost couldn’t breathe anymore. His parents weren’t like that; they were wronged. They were taking the fall for someone else... Taking the fall? Yes, taking the fall. How did he forget that? "Don’t drown me, please don’t drown me..." Dylan’s body was trembling, feverish like a branding iron. Eleanor Hollis woke to these murmurs, turning her head to find Dylan curling up, muttering something in agony. "Don’t drown me, I’m not a bad guy." "Get away! Get away from me! Mom, Dad, someone save me, I’m so scared." A man in his twenties, scared like a pitiful little dog. Eleanor dragged him away from the water’s edge. Dylan hadn’t regained consciousness, but he could feel it, feel himself moving further from the disgusting water, finally letting out a sigh of relief. Eleanor was bringing some water with a leaf, intending to give it to him due to his chapped lips. But her movements halted in the air, simply staring quietly at the face before her. A tear fell from Dylan’s eye corner, and he bit his lip, body taut. What kind of nightmare could terrify this man to such an extent... She fed him the water, furrowing her brows, drinking some herself as well. She’s no saint, Dylan deserved what he got. She picked up a stone, wanting to smash it at his head, but at a thought, she stopped again. Damnit, couldn’t bring herself to do it. Just because he laughed at the brink of death and just because he cried now, why couldn’t she? Eleanor was vexed, gritting her teeth as she looked at him, clutching the stone in her hand. The man was very weak now, and if she acted, he would undoubtedly die. But after hesitating for a long time, she finally dropped the stone far away, sitting quietly at the side. Although she didn’t know what had happened to him before, his current extreme nature suggested his past experiences were likely unpleasant.