Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

Although she was utterly rotten at being a human being, Malin didn’t mind applauding her for the choices she made as a mother. As for the brass bullet he would deliver to her shortly, that was a different matter.

"You didn’t lie, thank you, Lady Anna." Mars smiled upon seeing the answer he got from the Spell Formation, then raised his pistol.

"Could you not kill me in front of my daughter?" The lady requested.

"No problem." With a wave of his hand, Mars’s spell put the daughter to sleep. He did not turn around, as Malin had already reached out with his Spiritual Energy to move his kin to an empty space aside.

"Thank you, Mark. You’re gentler than I thought." The lady smiled happily.

"Your daughter said the same to me a long time ago. I let her down, and now I have to fail her a second time... Goodnight, Lady Anna, may the girls you’ve disappointed forgive a mother, although I think that’s unlikely. What do you think?" Having said that, Mars bowed his head and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

As Lady Anna fell to the ground, the burly man sighed: "Is it my turn next, Mark?"

"Yes, Claude Dofen, I’m sorry. At that point in time, I killed your son first." Mars opened his cigarette case, offered him a smoke, and then put the case away.

"I thought you’d have one yourself, Mark." Claude laughed and lit the cigarette for himself: "Slim West Lake, good stuff... My son, will you still kill him?"

"Not anymore. Now he’s just a bastard the same age as me in this timeline. I have no reason to kill him, and I’m not like you guys; I have a bottom line, and you don’t." As Malin sighed, he began to reflect on his past: "Speaking of which, my lover didn’t like me smoking, so I quit. I used to smoke a lot, every day thinking of when I’d be able to kill you all for my father’s revenge... Later, I met your son; he discovered my secret and ultimately my true identity. He wanted to expose my existence to you. We used to be very good friends; he extorted protection money from me every year, and I even visited your home. Too bad... Fate does not harbor ’what ifs,’ nor does it spare anyone. I was fond of Natasha; she died in front of me. Your son Gaine was my friend; he also died in front of me... Perhaps I’m just naturally destined for solitude. My father was, so were my friends, and in the end, even the organization I once aspired to devote my life to... Sorry, I’ve started thinking about my childhood dreams again, Mark. Do you still remember what our original dreams were?"

The young man was recalling his past while morbidly narrating words that instilled fear, eventually even laughing at the end and turning to look at himself.