Page 195 of His Hell Girl

"I see…" she says, and I don't understand what she's seeing.

"Good." I nod, getting up and preparing for my next bout of training.

The next days are even worse as Vanya struggles to get out of bed. Her limbs are swollen, her skin a yellowish tinge and hot to the touch.

And just when I start to get a little worried, Miles calls me up to his office.

"Your sister hasn't been doing well." Is the first thing he says as I enter the room.

I don't answer as I take a seat, waiting for whatever it is he wants to tell me.

"You know I have no need for weaklings here," he continues, looking at me with a raised eyebrow, as if gauging how I'm reacting to his words.

"Yes, Sir." I nod.

"I'm glad we're in agreement, because I have an assignment for you."

I frown. An assignment?

"Of course," I readily agree, since it's not my place to disagree.

"The final test if you will. And then you'll be the first graduate of the program." He chuckles, pouring himself a glass of alcohol.

"Final test? What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

It's the first time he's said anything about graduation, or a final test. I thought it was all supposed to be continuouslearning. Trial and error as we map the way to scientific revolution.

"What was the first rule I taught you, Vlad?" he asks, the corner of his mouth curling up as he regards me attentively.

"Remove all attachments," I immediately reply, the scene in which I'd killed Lulu flashing briefly in my mind.

"Indeed. Do you think you still have any attachments?"

"No, Sir."

"What about your sister, then?" he inquires, amused.

"She's nothing." I don't even think as the words slip past my lips.

"Is that so…" He walks around the room, swirling the liquid in his glass in a pensive manner.

I cock my head, studying him and trying to understand what's happening.

"Then it won't be too hard for you to kill her." He suddenly stops, turning to me, his eyes shrewdly assessing my reaction.

"Of course not."

"Wonderful. I trust it will be done then?"

I nod slowly, a small frown appearing on my face as it dawns on me what he's asking me to do.

"But here's the catch, Vlad. I don't want a clean death. I don't want a mercy killing." He smirks. "Give me a show," he opens his arms in a dramatic gesture, "show me how you put to use everything I've taught you!

Going to his desk, he opens a drawer and throws me a set of knives.

"Entertain me, Vlad!" He tips his glass toward me before downing it in one go.

As I walk back to the room a heaviness settles on me. I don't know why my chest feels stiff, myselftrapped in my body, a cage that stifles me and holds me so tightly I can barely breathe.

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