Chapitre 140: Unread Messages
Ivan figured out what was going on almost instantly.
"Phantom," he muttered as he glanced at the two Melanie Chases in front of him, who looked like they were carved from the same mold. "Changing appearance is your Phantom ability... No, more likely, you and Phantom share the same ability, right? You used this ability to play both sides with the Phantom, deceiving the hostages and making them testify for you. But it was you the whole time."
Indeed, that made more sense.
Even if someone could copy Melanie's appearance, infiltrating the mothership of The Ninth Special Service Division and disarming the alarms without alerting anyone would be no simple task. Unless it wasn't an impersonation at all—unless Melanie Chase, a senior agent of the division, was herself the whole time.
Ivan narrowed his eyes. "That hair sample..."
"It's mine," Melanie replied, her voice light, almost amused. "As long as I have a DNA sample, I can change into someone else and even copy their DNA. So I simply became poor Lisa, then took a piece of my own hair... Ha, and that's the 'important physical evidence' you so carefully hid."
"Was there a single truth in your story?"
Ivan stood up as if nothing had happened, brushing the dust off his jacket.
"What happened to those two poor girls?"
"Well... there's truth in it, of course, but truth is often mixed with a little bit of lies. That's how the best stories work. You have to use lies to make the truth more believable," Melanie said softly. "I was just a kid back then—headstrong, impulsive, reckless. You know how teenagers are.
Lisa's poor uncle was nothing more than a scapegoat. He had no idea what was happening."
Ivan narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening. "You killed him."
After a pause, his tone grew more serious as he added, "You're Hanna, the one who escaped from the scene—her best friend."
"Yes," Melanie admitted without hesitation, looking Ivan directly in the eye.
"Why?"
Melanie sighed, her voice heavy with nostalgia. "Like I said, I was just a kid. It was easy to be... impulsive. You probably can't imagine what that feels like. Two best friends, inseparable, always together. But one of them is beautiful and confident, and wherever she goes, she's the center of attention. She wins all the favors in the world.
And if the other one is the ugly duckling, she'll look... annoying to everyone else."
Ivan remained silent, listening.
"Lisa was the beautiful one. She had always been like that—captivating, naturally the focus of attention. Even the boy we all thought was cool at the time would send her flowers with little notes, trying to win her over.
She would show them to me, pretending to be annoyed, talking about how 'distressing' it was. But you know what? That was just a girl showing off, flaunting to her ugly friend what she didn't have.
It took me a long time to figure out why she had chosen me as her best friend out of everyone. The answer was simple: I was the ugly duckling. Being around me made her feel even more beautiful and confident every day."
Ivan's brow furrowed.
"So you killed her."
Melanie's expression turned wistful. "Like I said, I was a kid. I didn't think it through. Killing her didn't solve anything. I thought it would make me feel better, but it didn't.
Afterward, I realized it wasn't just her. Even without her, the uncomfortable feeling didn't go away. It was the world itself. Beauty attracts attention, and the so-called civilized people of the world give beauty all the conveniences you can't even imagine. Meanwhile, those of us in the shadows—the ugly, the outcasts—are ignored and forgotten.
This world isn't for people like us. We're born to be cast aside."
She paused, a strange but familiar smile creeping across her face.
"But thanks to the great Lytos, my fate changed. This power—the ability I dreamed of—allows me to be anyone. I can become anything. No one can look better than me, and now, the world revolves around me."
"Lytos? Is that the name of some ancient entity?" Ivan asked.
Melanie smirked. "It's something you wouldn't understand."
Ivan studied her face—the same face he'd thought he'd known for so long. "So, all this time, since you joined The Ninth Special Service Division... it's all been a lie? You've been wearing a mask?"
"Lie? No, I think you misunderstand. This is my real face—my original appearance. The ugly duckling has transformed into the swan, and I've left my past behind."
"Interesting perspective. I bet Professor Miyazaki would be fascinated by how your phantom-derived abilities developed. But for now..."
With a blank expression, Ivan raised his weapon, pointing the barrel directly at Melanie's head.
"You're under arrest."
"Arrest? By you?" Melanie giggled. "Why, Ivan? What's the point of this? You've lost everything, haven't you? This crumbling system has failed you, hasn't it? Are you really going to point that gun at the one person who understands you... just to defend a world that no longer cares about you?"
Ivan smirked, shaking his head. "Funny. But if you really knew me, you'd know that none of that matters to me. I just enjoy killing scum like you."
He sneered.
Melanie sighed. "I expected as much. You're a paranoid lunatic who sees the world in black and white, I know. That's why I had the Phantom throw you into that coffin, sealing away my past with you.
I didn't think you'd survive, honestly. There were hallucinogens in the coffin designed to interfere with your nervous system, and they should have suppressed your self-healing abilities. I guess that troublesome bat saved you again, didn't he?"
Ivan chuckled darkly. "Don't kid yourself. You lured me there just to satisfy your twisted desire to show off. Because deep down, you can't resist boasting about your genius to a dying audience, can you?
I've seen killers like you all my life—sociopaths who get high on their own cleverness. You always create elaborate stories to justify your crimes, to convince yourselves you're more than just a common murderer.
You're no different from them. You just have a few more tricks up your sleeve. But I've dealt with people like you before."
Ivan paused, then flashed a contemptuous smile.
"You've been stalling for time, haven't you? Waiting for someone? Let me guess, your little plan was for you and Link—the traitor you freed when you disabled the security system—to meet here.
You've been keeping me busy, waiting for him to show up... but something's gone wrong, hasn't it? Based on your original plan, he should have been here, what... three minutes ago?"
Melanie's expression flickered, betraying a moment of uncertainty.
Ivan grinned. He could tell he was right.
She had been stalling, waiting for backup. But something had clearly gone wrong. Her partner wasn't coming, and that left her uneasy.
Ivan relished her discomfort, savoring the shift in power.
"Want to bet on what your partner is up to right now?" Ivan laughed. "I'd wager he's busy getting his face smashed in by 'Old Bat Punch' and doesn't have time to check his messages."
---
Bang.
Link's face armor cracked under the weight of Batman's pitch-black fist. Red fragments flew in all directions, and electric filaments sparked through the air, filling the room with the acrid scent of burning flesh.
Blood spewed from Link's crooked mouth as he gasped, his eyes still wide with shock and confusion as he stared at Batman.
This can't be happening.
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